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Afterglow

By: LittleHenry



The familiar tingling began almost instantly after Henry slid his hard cock inside his new bride. Anne's wet hole engulfed him in welcoming heat as the length slid in slowly. Kissing softly on her left shoulder, he eased his body down using his knees and forearms for support.

"Ohhh," responded his sexy wife. "Mmm, oh my god." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her body alive after a lengthy prelude from Henry's talented tongue.

Anne had awakened that Sunday morning in her husband's arms, the first day of the rest of their lives together. They were married the day before and drove the six hours to the Outer Banks for their honeymoon. While she had fretted over every detail of the modest, but tasteful wedding, Henry had planned their trip just as carefully.

She had eased out of bed carefully so as not to wake him. With her usual cat-like grace, she had glided to the window, then pulled back the curtain. She had been careful not to open them too wide lest she expose her C-cup breasts to any potential passersby.

Out the window of their coastal bungalow she had seen short waves from the Atlantic washing over the beach not far away. The lapping of the water had made her think of the way Henry could bring fire to her clit with his soft licks.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, she had returned to bed eager to awaken her new spouse for some early-morning escapades. She had slid under the sheets and moved down until she could draw his soft member into her mouth. She loved the feeling of it hardening inside her and would suck gently until he couldn't help but thrust lightly.

It hadn't taken long before Henry was pulling her away so he wouldn't come too soon. After returning the pleasure (and giving her a nice climax), he had slid over her for a smooth, leisurely ride.

But all that sucking had made him much too sensitive. He forced his mind to calm and his body to relax so that he could make it last as long as possible, hopefully long enough for Anne to have a second orgasm.

Anne wasn't interested in a slow fuck this morning. Her need caused her to pull and push against his hips urging him faster. Pushing up onto his hands, he gazed down at the beauty beneath him. Anne's long dark-brown hair was spread across her shoulders and pillow. Her thick lips were spread slightly as she began to breathe faster. Her dark eyes locked onto his, showing the passion building inside.

A track athlete in college, Anne's legs still maintained their supple strength, and he could feel it as she slid them up his thighs and wrapped them around his waist.

She was pulling him faster, but he was trying to resist the speed or else this would end quickly.

"Don't stop, don't stop," she pleaded and humped her hips upward.

In only a minute, her body stiffened while her inner walls pulsed rhythmically. The sensations were too much, and he came with a groan, blasting over and over inside. He lowered himself back down and lovingly kissed her again and again.

While she had definitely come, Henry had a feeling she wasn't done; the orgasm was more of a medium intensity, and he figured she had another one possible inside. He wasn't too worried about pleasing her, however. One of the pleasant discoveries she'd made early in their lovemaking sessions was that he didn't soften right after coming. As long as he was buried inside, Henry remained hard.

He continued to kiss her and also reached up to caress her cheek with his left hand. He waited to see if she would push up with her hips, signaling her need for more, but she seemed very relaxed. So, he pulled back out and lay down on his side next to her and pulled her close.

Feeling more joy than he even knew was possible, Henry thought about their lives and what had brought them to this point.

Henry and Anne had known each other for a year and a half before they ever had their first date.

Not long out of college, Henry was attending a barbecue at a friend's house and was immediately drawn to the 5'7" brunette with a slim waist and ample breasts. While many of her surrounding friends were wearing shorts, Anne had on a light summer dress in purple and white swirls. He loved the way her wavy hair fell down just low enough that it might brush against her nipples if she were nude.

"Getting an eyeful?" came a voice from behind. 

Forcing himself to break away from the dark-haired vision, Henry turned to his best friend and asked, "Hey, Mike, who's the girl talking with Marcy?"

"You mean the frumpy one with the mousy hair and wide ass? I can get you her number if you like."

"Shut the fuck up. You know who I'm talking about."

"Yeah I do, but I also see who is walking toward them carrying two drinks."

Henry saw a tall, well-built man walk over and hand one of the cups to the lovely woman. He gave her a simple kiss on the lips that let Henry know that the two were definitely a couple and probably been so for a while.

"That would be Anne and Sid. They've been together for several months now, so give it up. Are you sure you don't want the frumpy one's number?"

And so Henry tried to put Anne out of his mind, but it was difficult as she and Mike's girlfriend Marcy became closer friends. She showed up at dinner parties at Mike's apartment, always with Sid, while Henry occasionally brought a date.

Half a year later, Anne and Sid broke up, but by this time Henry had settled into a relationship with a sexy blonde named Brandy. While not exactly a rocket scientist, Brandy was always fast with a laugh at his jokes and faster at stripping off her clothes. The two had sex frequently and in many places - including a memorable afternoon in his office.

On that day, Brandy had come to see him at his job at a small marketing firm. He'd held off taking a lunch break so they could spend time together that afternoon. She had worn a long, colorful skirt that swished against the floor as she walked - what she called her gypsy skirt. 

Back in the breakroom, he had sat down in a chair with some warmed-up leftovers, ready to hear about her day. Instead, she had sat on his lap and whispered in his ear, "I'm not wearing any underwear." She had pulled back and giggled, while he had felt a fast twitch in his groin.

"Uhh, well there's not exactly anywhere here in the office to take advantage of such a pleasant situation."

"What about right here?" had come the reply with a grinding of her ass in his lap.

"What? Are you kid-"

"Why not? I'm sure everyone else has eaten already, and I have this long outfit for cover."

As a blush had spread over his cheeks, Brandy had reached down and unzipped his pants.

"I was thinking about you in the car and couldn't help but get started early. I rubbed myself as I was driving over, and this truck driver I passed must have gotten an eyeful."

With a glance at the door, she had continued, "Now let me just raise up a little and slide closer."

Sitting sideways in his lap, Brandy had rubbed his tip around her clit before sinking all the way down in one smooth motion. "That's it, baby. I feel you thickening. Now let me bounce up a down some. Oooh, yeah. I can feel you throbbing. Do it some more - it makes you feel even fatter."

A few minutes later, they had heard the distinct click-clack of heels approaching. As a female coworker had entered and headed for the Pepsi machine, Brandy had spoken nonchalantly, "And then I saw the cutest pair of sandals. I know you don't care about shoes ..." 

As she had continued as if everything was normal, Brandy had contracted her pussy repeatedly, sending Henry into an excited hunger. He had wanted to scream at the woman to get the hell out of the room so he could pound away, but all he could do was lean his head closer to Brandy's shoulder so that the coworker wouldn't see how red his face was.

Seconds after the woman left the room, Henry had wrapped his arms around Brandy's waist and lifted her up and down on his cock until he exploded. 

Just when he had thought he couldn't pulse another time, she had leaned over to breathe in his ear, "I'm just gonna stand up and walk out of here with your come running down my bare thighs under this skirt."

After a year, and many more unforgettable humps, that relationship played out, and shortly thereafter Henry asked Anne out.

Neither one had dated that many people; both had been in a few long-term partnerships, but not serious enough for an engagement. In their mid-20s, they were still young enough to be exploring who they were as people and as lovers.

One night at her apartment, Henry knelt on the bed next to her supple form. After giving her legs, ass and back a long, thorough massage, he rolled her over and admired her firm tits. He slathered more massage oil on his hands and slid them across the undersides. He had discovered that the bottoms of her breasts were quite sensitive, too, and made sure to give them plenty of attention.

He cupped the breasts and lightly lifted them before letting them slide back through his oily fingers. He rubbed up and down the valley between them, then across the tops and down the sides, being sure to avoid the center.

"Mmm," she moaned. The areolas, bigger than a 50-cent piece, swelled and darkened, looking very inviting. So did the plump nipples atop them. His mouth watered as the tips hardened, and he finally could resist no longer.

"Ahh," she cried out as he sucked the right nipple into his mouth and squeezed the left between finger and thumb. She pulled his head closer as he suckled, applying and releasing pressure. He switched sides, leaning over her body and putting his left hand down as he leaned in. As he clamped down on the erect tip, his right hand cupped her entire sex.

"Mmmaaahhh," she groaned, her legs sliding around on the sheets.

He made love to her chest as his right index finger slid up and down her lower lips. Eventually she took both hands and pushed his head south. Kissing his way down, he stopped to tongue her belly button while lightly circling her clit hood with fingertips.

Still kneeling by her side, he used his right arm to hold her right leg out of his way and then moved up her thigh with light kisses that sent flames through her body. At the crease where her leg comes up to her lips, he stopped to run his tongue up and down, knowing it is another favorite erogenous zone. From that he moved on to catching each lip in turn between his own lips and sucking and pulling gently.

"Oh god, stop teasing me," she pleaded, reaching for his hair and pulling him higher to her clit.

His back was beginning to tire from holding himself up in this position so he moved both arms between her thighs so he could lean on his hands.

He then pulled his elbows against the back of her knees. Her legs were pulled back toward her head allowing him to rest a little of his weight on the back of her thighs. Her legs were effectively trapped, so he could continue to do as he pleased even if she were begging for release.

He ran his tongue up and down her slit, pausing slightly each time to flick the nub at the top. In this position, he had a clear view of her pussy and the crinkled hole behind it. A sudden urge passed through him, something he had never considered before. Leaning over further, he licked all the way down her lips and across the perineum. Then, flattening his tongue out as flat as possible, he lapped over her hole and halfway up her crack.

Anne's hips lurched, but she didn't protest or try to push him off her thighs. Suddenly very nervous that she would think him a freak and a pervert, he wondered if he should just stop and screw her, but this new curiosity begged him to continue.

He again lapped over the hole and then reversed and went back across it. He didn't wait to see if she would stop him and began licking the tip up, down, left and right over the puckered opening. He was pleasantly surprised to feel her tremble underneath him, seeming to encourage him further. He didn't want to hurt her, but neither did he want to tickle her, so he kept a steady, even pressure against her body.

After a couple of minutes, he heard her sigh, and a tension he hadn't even noticed yet seemed to flow out of her muscles. The opening also relaxed, and he felt his tongue slightly ease forward. Making his tongue a little more stiff, he squirmed directly on the hole and sensed it relaxing further. The entire tip then slid inside as a moan came from behind him.

With an up-and-down movement of his head, he pushed his tongue in and out of her ass. He slipped his left hand up past his face and slid his fingertips over her cunt. Juices were overflowing her hole and were spread out over the lips. He used the moisture to slide up and rub over the clitoris.

Instantly, Anne convulsed with her hips bouncing off the bed. Henry maintained contact the best he could, feeling her ass muscles clenching and releasing his tongue. When he leaned back and pulled his arms out of the way, her legs slid to the bed lifelessly. She had fallen directly to sleep.

After that, Henry had made an effort to include lots of oral play in their sex life. Every time he went down on her, he eventually had to go "back there" with his tongue. On two occasions, she had pulled away slightly in resistance, so he simply stopped doing anything more with his mouth and just mounted her. It was his passive way of saying "when it comes to licking, it's all or nothing, honey."

This had to be at least a small disappointment for her because he always gave her at least one orgasm with his tongue before he jumped in the saddle. After the second incident, she never showed any hesitation again.

During his ministrations, he used his tongue or the flat edge of a thumb to push on her hole. For some reason, he still hesitated to insert a finger in her ass. Even though she wasn't resisting and seemed to be moaning more, he just couldn't feel 100% sure she was really enjoying the stimulation or if she was just quietly tolerating it. Their relationship was just so perfect that he hated to do anything to ruin it.

One night at his place, he was at the foot of the bed with his mouth on her clit. Then he placed his hands behind her knees and pushed them up toward her head. The legs went back easily, so easily in fact that he knew she must have been helping. Suddenly feeling more encouraged, he moved his mouth lower and started working over her asshole. As had become routine, her sphincter soon relaxed, and his tongue could squirm inside.

This time, however, she pulled her left leg away from his hand and swung it slowly over his head. 

He was dejected, thinking she really didn't want this kind of attention anymore and was completely turning away from him. To his shock, she rolled over on her stomach and then lifted her ass in the air.

He dove forward and shoved his tongue deep as his right thumb dipped underneath and rubbed through her slit. Soaked, his thumb slid smoothly back and forth, then he pushed it up inside her twat at the same time he pumped his tongue in her other hole.

She groaned and pushed back at his face. He sped up his thumb, really pounding his palm against her crotch. She gasped and her ass seemed to open even further.

Emblazoned with a new confidence, he kept his thumb pumping as he moved up on the bed and went closer on his knees. With his left hand, he reached down to rub his cock and felt the entire length coated with its own drool. He rubbed the clear fluid around to ensure an even coat and then brought it close to her rear.

Pulling his right thumb out, he used his hand to rub his dick up and down over the widened asshole. She didn't flinch or tighten up, merely held still as he enjoyed the slippery coating of his saliva mixing with his precome. He held the shaft steady and pushed forward. He wondered if she would lurch forward and crawl away, but she held her ground.

While his cock was fairly wide, the head came down to a slender tip, like a spear - perfect for the job at hand. The end moved into her hole about half an inch before he felt the beginnings of resistance. He didn't pull away, though, just used his hand to move the shaft slightly, changing the angle of the gentle pressure. The head went in perhaps another half-inch before he felt a quick clench-and-relax from her muscles. 

The squeezing on his cock tip felt wonderful, but he didn't want to rush forward suddenly. Instead he eased back slightly and moved forward again. He let a little spit drop from his lips to his cock, which was drooling itself and adding to the lubrication.

With the same light push as before, he leaned in and felt the head slip right back in that first inch as before and then a little further. The outside of her hole was completely relaxed now, but he could feel he was bumping against a little tightness further inside. He didn't know much about anatomy, but it felt like a second sphincter about two inches in. He slowly moved back and forth some until this muscle also relaxed, and the head slipped all the way inside.

He paused to enjoy the sensation of being in her ass for the first time - feeling that it was probably the first time any man had been in her ass (which he later found out to be true).

Rather than pull back out, he pushed forward some more and felt the going was easier now. Even though his girth was pretty big, the slender tip seemed to have done its job well.

He pulled back and moved forward a few times and then remembered that he wasn't stimulating her anymore. He reached around her slender waist with his left arm and put his index and middle fingers on her clit. He softly stroked it as he stroked her ass.

"Ohh," she moaned. Then as the strokes continued, she called out, "Oh god oh god oh god. Yes, yes."

The tight, warm vice of her ass and her moans were too much for him. He knew he was getting close and hoped that it wouldn't hurt her to shoot off inside her ass. He knew his cock bulged even wider when he was coming, but he absolutely didn't want to leave her wonderful hole.

He frigged her clit faster as she moaned louder. She had been vocal in bed before, but now she grew louder than she had ever been. Her arousal enhanced his excitement, and he picked up speed, sliding in and out quickly, but still worried about sinking to his full depth.

Suddenly she screamed and her ass began pulsing over and over. The feeling was too much, and despite his fears, he pulled her back on him and buried himself deep as he spurted over and over as hard as he has ever come in his life.

The two collapsed on the bed. Henry was spent, but at the same time quite aroused at the idea of having her ass again and again.

To his complete shock, Anne's demeanor changed after that. She didn't offer her ass up to him again, and on a few occasions when he inserted a finger in her ass, she pulled away.

Finally one evening as they fondled each other in bed, he came right out and said, "I want to be back here" and caressed her ass cheek. She pulled her hips back and said softly, "No."

"Why not?"

"It's dirty, and I feel like I'm just some object when you touch me there. Like some kind of blowup doll."

"What? That's crazy. I'm deeply in love with you, and I certainly don't think of you as some sex toy. When I'm with you, I'm making love to you. And when two people are in love, I don't think there is anything wrong with expressing that love in any way they want, as long as there is love and respect. And I do respect you."

Despite his pleas, Anne didn't give in. 

Unfortunately, that night was still deeply embedded in his mind - just like his dick had been deeply embedded in her behind. And now every time her back was turned to him, he would stare at her perfect ass and wish for another stab at it.

Eventually during oral sex, he couldn't resist trying something once again, and he dipped his tongue down to lick her hole. Just like most of the first experiences, she didn't resist and seemed to come harder then. After that, he once again began making rimming a common part of their lovemaking. But he never went any further than that.


Afterglow



Now here they were on their honeymoon, and he was so satisfied with his wedding bliss that it hadn't even occurred to him during their morning screw that he should want her ass.

He lay on his left side with his right arm across her body. He placed his head on her shoulder and his right hand on her left breast and sighed contentedly. He thought he might drift off to sleep again, but then he felt her take his right hand off her tit and push it further down.

Oh, he realized. She isn't quite done yet.

He slid his hand across her mound and down her lips. He felt her moisture and then at the opening, a little of his own seed seeping out. He ran his fingers up and down and over the clit. Up and down, back and forth. A few minutes passed, and she hadn't come yet. He worried his fingers might be too rough and considered licking her out. Then he had another idea.

Since it had been several minutes since he'd pulled out, his penis had deflated and would be very soft if he rubbed it over her clit. But he was feeling a bit wiped out and didn't want to get on top. So he decided to approach her sideways.

With her on her back and him on his left side, he squirmed around until his hips were just lower down the bed than her crotch. He lifted both her legs up and over his right hip and slid forward until his cock could reach her.

In this position, both hands were free, so he used the right one to rub himself against her and reached around her right thigh to use his left hand to pull back the hood over the clit. She gave a soft sigh and seemed to be settling in for a long session.

It didn't take but a few minutes before his member stretched out again, though a little less firm than before. He pushed forward and slid the head inside her, eliciting a "mmm" from Anne. 

When he pulled the head back, the tip was coated in his come and made sliding around her lips and clit much more fun.

Then he began alternating between slipping inside and rubbing against her clit. Wanting to see the action, he used his left arm to push her right leg up and out of the way. She got the idea and reached down to grasp the leg and pull it further up. Now he could watch the tool rubbing all around.

He wanted to try something different and inched a little more forward and turned his hips so he was angled downward some. Then he placed the length against her slit and started gently sawing it against her. This allowed the shaft to stimulate the clit while the head rubbed all over the outside of her opening. Anne's continued sighing (and intermittent gasping) further encouraged him and swelled his cock to full strength.

He was surprised to see even more cum ooze out of her and coat his head. The seed started to drip further down, so he moved the head and caught up with the fluid just as it was reaching her asshole. She gave a gasp as the soaked member slid over her, and suddenly he was remembering that one special night when he took her anal cherry. He so wanted to do it again, but he wasn't about to ruin their honeymoon with the suggestion.

Still, he couldn't help his infatuation.

He reached out his left hand and rubbed her clit, while his right hand helped massage his cockhead against her taint and ass. Her breathing quickened, and so did his. She was building toward a massive orgasm, and her excitement and the kinky feel of her ass against the side of his head was pushing him there, too.

After several minutes of pressure and rubbing against her clit and ass, she announced, "Oh god, I'm gonna come." He rubbed his head harder on and around her ass and prepared to blow a big load all over her cheeks.

With her right leg already pulled back toward her chest, Anne suddenly reached down and pulled the left leg back as well. The change shifted the angle of her hips upward, and in one quick motion, his slippery cock plunged into her relaxed ass.

Henry was surprised, aroused, orgasmic and worried all at the same time. He glanced up at her face and saw her shocked face looking back. Then while maintaining eye contact, she shuddered, the entire bed quaking. Afraid to move inside her ass, he held still, then felt the rhythmic contractions of her muscles, which milked him over the edge. Never looking away from her, he erupted in her ass for only the second time.

Her face was pulled tight during the frenzy, but then she relaxed, and a warm smile spread over her face. She let go of her legs, which moved down to again drape over his hips. She reached out a hand and petted his face.

Still deep inside her, Henry knew that something had changed now. Before she worried that he didn't respect her and objectified her when it came to her ass. But now she knew that she was indeed an object: an object of his affection and adoration. And he now knew she'd be open to him no matter which hole he wanted.



Afterglow



You have drifted to sleep, sprawled on your stomach on the bed, as I rubbed massage oil into your heated skin, soothing it, and draining the tension from your body. For a moment, I am annoyed with you: how could you fall asleep when I want to play? But I reconsider; you have been a good slut tonight, taking all your punishment, the caning having raised angry welts all over your ass, upper thighs, and even between your firm cheeks, over your tender hole. No, you have served me well tonight. 

I look down at your sleeping form with pride, admiring the sexy curve of your ass, and taking in the two dimples just above it. Bending over you, I lightly kiss each one. I snuggle up against your warm body, draping one of my legs between yours, causing you to stir, but not awaken. With a fingertip, I trace faint patterns along the welt marks decorating your oiled skin, just barely grazing you, so light is my touch. You are so handsome. My fingers rise to the collar encircling your neck, stroking it lovingly, considering all that it means. You are mine; your mind and body belong to me. I drift off to sleep myself, my hand resting upon your neck...

I awaken, with no sense of time or place. There is no light streaming through the window, so it must still be night. In my haze, I can feel the warmth of your body next to mine, and your presence pleases me, gradually awakening my arousal once more. I open my eyes to find your head turned, watching me.

"What is it, my pet?"

"You are so beautiful, Mistress."

I feel a blush spread over my face, my desire for you mounting.

"You may worship Mistress with your mouth now, my pet. Begin at the top, work your way to my pussy, and then begin again at the bottom and work your way back up. Then you may kiss my pussy and be rewarded with my juices."

"Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress."

Your lips brush my forehead, tracing my hairline with a trail of kisses, down my cheeks, and I take a fistful of your hair, and guide your mouth to mine. We drink deeply of one another, tasting each other's mouths, our lips becoming tender and swollen. Reluctantly, I guide your face lower to continue your journey. You attack my neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there, licking across it in broad strokes as I let out a deep, involuntary moan. Too much of this will break my resolve to see this to its end, and I move your face away. 

With each breast, I whimper softly as you kiss in a spiral, starting with the outside edge and ending on each nipple, sucking them into your mouth and nibbling the firm, rubbery flesh, before marking a straight line of kisses down my stomach, stopping just above my mound, where you peck all along the border of my closely-trimmed hair, before looking up at me. Our eyes meet, and I can see that you are seeking approval. 

"Yes, my pet, you give Mistress so much pleasure. Continue."

You move to my feet, seating yourself between them, and raising one to your mouth. You draw my fresh, clean toes into your mouth, sucking on each one, tasting my skin mingling with the soap from the bath you gave me earlier. Laving each one, you suckle the sensitive skin between them, massaging the soles of my feet with your thumbs, making me squirm beneath you. 

Next, you lick across my instep, and nibble the thin, delicate skin over my ankle, before licking and kissing your way up my smooth, shapely calves. Your tongue snakes out, vigorously lashing the flesh behind my knees and electricity shoots along my nerves, lighting my body on fire. I start to wonder now who is torturing whom. Just when I can finally feel your warm breath on my dripping sex, you shift, repeating the entire process on my other leg until your face is inches from my pussy once more. You look at me, imploringly.

"You may taste me now, slave. Make me cum in your mouth. Don't miss a drop..."

Worshipfully, your soft lips press against the slick, velvety folds of my pussy as you inhale deeply of my sweet aroma. You pause a moment, feeling my pulse through my gently throbbing vulva, before dragging your tongue through the length of my engorged lips, dragging a sliver of juice the length of my pussy and at last, onto my clit, causing my hips to buck involuntarily against your face. I shudder as your tongue flicks over my sensitive bud again and again, driving me toward the inexorable climax to which all your teasing has been leading.

Your tongue works eagerly over my swollen clit, feverishly stroking it, as you grow desperate to taste my delicious nectar. Suddenly, the heat that has long been building in my core reaches its apogee and my thighs tense around your ears as I cry out my release. The contractions of my climaxing pussy force my juices to pour forth, and while you do your best to drink greedily of them, you aren't quite quick enough, leaving some of them to drip down, coating my pulsating nether hole. This escapes your notice, however, as you hungrily probe my pussy in search of more of my intoxicating nectar like the dutiful whore that you are. 

As my orgasm abates, you look up at me, your eyes shining almost as much as my wetness as it coats your face, ecstatic to have pleased me. My stern eyes find yours as my withering gaze obliterates the sense of pride that had been filling your eyes, and your eyes quickly turn downcast once more. 

"You missed a spot, my pet. I specifically told you not to miss a drop."

"I... I'm so sorry Mistress, I...," you stutter, as you look down at my splayed pussy lips, perplexed as to what you might have forgotten. 

Roughly, I grab your hair and press your head lower, mashing your lips against my crinkled star. For emphasis, I grab a pillow, thrusting it under my hips to raise my dark aperture to a more optimal level. I grind my ass against your face, your nose buried in my pussy as the wrinkled surface of my most private entrance presses insistently against your mouth. 

"You missed my ass, you useless slut. Now clean it for me before I get very disappointed!"

Like a starving man, your tongue slithers forth and hungrily probes my rosebud, savoring the heady combination of my sweet juices and my natural musk. I feel your tongue tracing each ridge of my pucker, being careful this time to locate every trace of my juices, and the warm, ticklish sensations radiate out through my empty pussy, to my over-stimulated clit, and up my spine. Focusing my attention, I push out with my sphincter muscles, opening my hole slightly to your invading tongue, and drawing it inside me. I feel you try to wiggle it against my sensitive internal lining but my clenching ring traps it, and I clamp down upon your tongue for emphasis. It is I who am in control here.

I take from you what I need, allowing the heat of this pleasure to spread through my body and I lower a hand to my throbbing clit, massaging it vigorously but briefly before exploding in another climax. As the waves of release flood through me, my tight rim contracts rhythmically against your tongue and a fresh flow of juices spills over your cheeks and nose as your mouth is pinned to my ass. Finally, the spasms cease and my muscles relax as I melt into the bed, releasing you.

As you rise to your knees, your downcast eyes dare to steal a glimpse of me, and this time they find the approval you crave. I open my arms, beckoning you to rest within them, nestling your head between my breasts. 

"You've served me well, my pet."

I feel your smile against my bare skin, and I delicately rest my fingers against your collar once more, fingering it gently. I am so pleased that you are mine.



Afterglow ……or Afterburner?



This might better be described as a vignette, rather than a short story. But it was fun to write, and I like it. I hope all of you will like it as well. Anyone who has read my other posted story (one and only so far -- I'm working on it and hope to have some more up in time) may recognize my wife's character. This work should be regarded as a very early prequel to the other story. Hope you enjoy.

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We had been laying there for what seemed like a long time after we had reached the end of our Sunday afternoon lovemaking, holding each other as we rested – not talking too much but enjoying being with each other. Finally, Belinda – or Bink as she liked to be called by those closest to her – stirred.

"I need to get cleaned up,' she said as she slid from under the covers and made her way to the bathroom. "I'll be right back' she continued, looking over her shoulder at me and smiling as she walked toward the bathroom.

"I'm not going anywhere," I replied. 

I watched the rear view of her pleasant form for a few seconds before she entered the bathroom and closed the door.  My wife had a nice little rump – just a tad on the large size for her petite build, but in a way that was that was still pleasing to the eye. I just continued to lay still and closed my eyes. Our earlier lovemaking had been great, and the feeling of being physically spent and exhausted was quite satisfying. Bink had pulled the sheet off as she had gotten out of bed, and the cool springtime breeze coming through the open windows of our bedroom had a very refreshing and relaxing feel to it.  The feeling of the air on my exposed body was satisfying and a bit sensual.

I had almost dozed off when I got that feeling you get when someone is staring at you. I opened my eyes to see Bink standing by the bed with a sly grin on her face. Her eyes were directed toward my crotch. My dick was in that flaccid but still somewhat semi-erect state that follows a good workout, and it was kind of bent over and lying on one side. Bink seemed to find it funny and continued to giggle. She reached and gave it a quick stroke with her finger. "You need to get that thing covered up and put away," she said. "It's liable to get you in trouble all hanging out like that."

"You seem to be the one trying to start some trouble" I said. I reached out and touch Bink on her hip. The "glow" of her small but supple form reflected our just completed lovemaking but also suggested receptivity to further advances. Her nipples became once again erect, and her hips were somewhat thrust out as though waiting my advance. Her cute little red bush, trimmed in a nice and neat pattern for her bikini, formed a natural focal point of her nubile little frame.

Likewise, I began to respond to the situation – and stimulation -- my cock slowing emerging from its rested state to become hard again. Our eyes met, and without saying anything we both knew what we wanted.

I got up on my knees and Bink got up on the bed on hers to face me. We gently just held each other close for a moment. This type of thing – an encore -- happened from time to time for us, and we knew it was going to be special and great.

I put my hands on Bink's hips and gently "steered" her to turn around and get on her all fours. 

"Oh yes, this is what I want," she said as she buried her head in the pillow. She had always had a special affinity for doggy style that I found a bit unusual. I'm not complaining by any means, but I always imagined that most women did this mainly to accommodate their men.  Just considering the perspective of the woman, the position never looked too comfortable to me. But Bink loved it, and it was almost always the "mandatory" position for a situation like this. 

I got positioned behind her, and after spending a second or two finding the "right spot" thrust my dick into her pussy to the hilt. Bink moaned as I begin to move back and forth, and she responded with her own thrusts so that we begin to find a rhythm. Then without really thinking too much about what I was doing, I gave her a good swat across the ass.

"Bounce that fanny" I blurted out.

"Yes," Bink exclaimed. "Make me do it!"

I gave her another good swat on the opposite cheek. She then put into high gear, bouncing her ass back and forth against me so fast that it took everything I had to hold on and keep inside her.

"God I could do this all night," she shouted.

"I'm right there with you baby," I shouted back. Actually I was in fact doing pretty good.  I was always impressed, but a bit perplexed, by myself that on the second time around like this; I could stay rock hard and go for the long term. I often thought it was not too bad a performance for a baby boomer who had to work hard to stay in shape and keep from getting a gut.

"Oh yes, fuck me – fuck me hard," shouted Bink, as she went into overdrive, bouncing her ass in an increasingly fast speed.

For good measure, I gave her a couple of more swats on her plumb cheeks. "Keep that thing a bouncing," I commanded.

She sat up, keeping my cock inside her, and leaned against me. She reached her arm back around my head and brought me forward to kiss her. Our tongues intertwined, and I caressed her breasts with one hand while my other work her clit as she continued her rhythm up and down and my rod. After a few minutes of this play, she reassumed her position on all fours.

"Make me pay, make me pay good," she shouted.

I didn't know exactly what she meant by this, but I figured it called for a few more swats on the behind – for which I happily obliged.

Bink then let out a loud shriek and practically knocked me off the bed she slammed into me so hard. And then with a few final thrusts, she held steady close to me and with her head buried down in the pillow. I knew she had climaxed and just needed to be still in this position for a moment.

Eventually she lifted her head up and looked around toward and asked, "How was it for you?"

"Great, but I'm still hard," I replied.

This was another part of our encore pattern. I could often outlast her. In fact I would sometime be nowhere near climaxing when she would come.

"Well, I guess we need to do something about that," she continued. "Would you like me to turn over on my back so you can come inside me?"

Actually I had another thing in mind which might make for an interesting end to this second act.

"No, why don't you come here beside me," I replied.

Bink moved beside me on her knees. I took her hand and positioned it on my dick.

"Just go back and forth," I told her. "Not too hard, and slow at first. I'll tell you when to get faster."

Bink obliged me willing for this follow-up hand job, but after a minute or so she blurted out, "Oh hell, you deserve better than this!"

She grabbed me by my shoulders and said, "Lay down; I'm going to finish this right for you."

Now Bink sort of had inconsistent attitudes about oral sex. I loved tonguing her sweet pussy, and she seemed to enjoy that quite well. She would often give me a quick kiss or lick on the cock and maybe even take it in her mouth briefly during foreplay. But a full fledge blowjob was not her style, so this development this evening was quite a pleasant surprise.

I lay on my back, and Bink was immediately on my cock with her mouth, alternatively going down on me and then licking my balls and shaft up and down with her tongue – and still managing to get some hand action in as well. She shifted her now somewhat red backside around so I get at it with my hand. I at first inserted my finger in her pussy, but when feeling how wet and juicy it was -- given the workout it had had -- I had another idea. Using her own juices as a lube, I worked my finger into her tight little bung hole and begin working it back and forth. I had my index finger in her ass and used my middle finger to alternately work her pussy and spread her juices around her back door.

"Oh that's good," she said. "I really like that"

So much so that she begin rapidly going up and down on my dick with her open mouth, very quickly bringing me to climax.

"Shoot that wad," Bink shouted, as my jisim splattered all over her face. She gave me a few more quick jerks with her hand as she licked up more jisim off my dick and stomach. This was surreal; as great as our sex life was, Bink just didn't do this kind of thing for me.

She rested her head on my stomach for a minute or two, and then she moved up to lie in my arms.

"That was great," I told her. Then, perhaps knowing better and with a somewhat smart-ass bent, I said, "Can I expect that a lot from now on?"

She kind of grinned and just looked at me for a second or two. "Well maybe you can sometimes expect it for a job well done and for doing things out of the ordinary. " Then she was quiet for a second or two more as a mischievous grin formed on her mouth.  "Speaking of, how did you know I would like your finger up my asshole........."



Afterglow Pt. 01



Part I

Chapter I: Dark Horse

"How do you like it?"

I jumped, nearly spilling my wine. A tan woman with large brown eyes laughed at my reaction. 

"I apologize. Didn't mean to creep up on you."

She wasn't American, but I couldn't quite place her accent. I guessed French, but there was another exotic note to her voice. Her hair was dark black and silky, glossy beneath the gallery lights. Her smile was pleasant enough, but I thought she was amused by me. I didn't like the idea of being the butt of a joke.

She raised her eyebrows and jutted her chin towards the painting behind me. I turned and took it in again.

The painting was crimson with black curvy lines that intersected every which way. A black circle penetrated a red circle on the right side of the painting. A warm pink surrounded the scene, and drops of paint dripped down, just touching the shapes below. Truly I wasn't that into modern art but there was something about the painting that drew me in. The sign next to it provided its title: "Afterglow". It had caught my attention the very moment I entered the gallery with my boring date.

Realizing I still hadn't answered her, I spoke in an awkward rush. "It's really pretty," I said.

Her smile widened. "Really? Pretty?" Her brown eyes slanted back towards the painting. "That's not the adjective I'd use."

"Maybe erotic is better," I decided, shocking myself. I hadn't meant to speak that aloud. 

The woman, however, was unsurprised at my answer. "Considering it's called 'Afterglow' I think you're on to something."

She adjusted the green strap of her dress. Everything was so elegant and refined about her. There was a wistfulness settling deeply in my chest; she was the kind of woman I'd always wanted to be like. Beautiful clothes, perfect hair, with a classic sophistication that seemed effortless.

Instead I was the kind of woman who spilled wine on my white dress, whose hair had decided to free itself from the bun I'd wrapped it in, and I was quite sure I had lipstick on my teeth.

"I don't know much about abstract art." I licked my lips, hoping the pinot noir hadn't made them purple. "I like this one, though. There's something... edgy but comfortable about it. Unfamiliar, but soothing."

She sipped at her champagne, her eyes never leaving mine. When she finished, she licked her lips, too. Something buzzed between us—a not-yet-known connection that made me want to reach out and touch her. Maybe it was just the alcohol. I certainly hoped that was all it was. 

"I'm Olivia," she said. Her hand reached out and took my own, hanging by my side. Her hand was warm and super soft. I felt silly knowing she could see my chipped nails that so desperately needed a manicure.

"Elizabeth. Nice to meet you." I forced a smile and fiddled with my wine glass.

"Do you come to the gallery often?" Her accent was beautiful. Every word she said rolled off her tongue.

I snorted. "No. I'm on a date. I don't think he knew what to do with me."

She laughed, eyes twinkling. "So you're not an artist?"

"No, not at all. I'm a lawyer. I can't even draw a smiley face."

Olivia lifted her glass to her lips. "Sometimes that's all it takes."

I glanced around the gallery. "I do wish I had the talent."

"Well, then tell me, Elizabeth. If you could paint one thing in this room, what would it be?"

I giggled and then realized she was serious. Definitely an odd question, but the intensity in her eyes made it impossible to refuse. So I took stock of what was around us.

I saw people talking passionately about the art hanging from the walls. Too boring. I saw my date, Robert, engaged in a debate with someone I didn't recognize. How dull. Then I saw all the abandoned wine and champagne glasses—some still half full—and ashtrays with mountains of lonely ashes and cigarette butts left behind. What excess. What a waste of decadence. It was depressing and beautiful, and for some bizarre reason I thought maybe this stranger would appreciate it.

"The ashtrays. The deserted glasses with lipstick smudges still on them."

She glanced over her shoulder over to where my eyes were directed, and then looked back at me. Her beautiful face merged into an expression of confusion. "Why? What does it all symbolize to you?"

"Well, maybe—"

A clammy hand touched my elbow and I jumped yet again in front of Olivia. 

"Liz, we have to run."

I turned to Robert and sighed. "Sure."

"It was wonderful meeting you, Elizabeth," Olivia said. She waved to me and disappeared into the throng of pretentious fakes who reeked of smoke and irony.

Robert made a noise and I tore my stare away from where she vanished.

"What is it?"

"That's the artist. Olivia Beringer."

Holy shit. "I had no idea."

"I only know because my buddy pointed her out before." He gave me a smile that was supposed to be alluring. "She's a dyke, you know."

My eyes rolled and I didn't bother hiding it. I'd accepted the date with Robert, a fellow lawyer at the District Attorney's office, because I was bored, and because my best friend Jacqueline reminded me I hadn't been out with someone in over a year. Now I was regretting my decision to pick this idiot something fierce. 

"I don't know anything about her, so no. I didn't know that."

"Funny she chatted you up."

She wasn't chatting me up but I didn't feel like correcting him. Now I knew why she was so curious about my response to the painting.

I took a peek at the price tag and confirmed my suspicion; I couldn't afford it.

"I need to get going," I told him.

He nodded absently and guided me by the small of my back.

As we left, I could have sworn I felt someone's eyes on me.

000000

A few days later my doorbell rang. The FedEx man waved when I opened the door and drove off, leaving a huge package behind.

After I dragged it in and tore open the tape, I pulled out a painting wrapped in layers of plastic. It was Olivia's painting, the one I admired so much. My dog, Toronto, sniffed it and looked up at me, wearing a matching expression of wonder.

When the shock died down a bit my eyes flicked to the card attached to it.

"Elizabeth, Got your address from a mutual friend. Hope you don't mind. I'd love to discuss the painting more with you over dinner.—Olivia"

On the bottom of the card she gave me her cell phone number, written crisply against the stark white of her business card.

This was the strangest thing to ever happen to me. I thought back to what Robert said. She was a lesbian, he'd heard. He suggested she was coming on to me, and now that she gave me the painting for free with only a dinner offer, I was beginning to wonder if he was right.

I pulled out my laptop and googled Olivia Beringer. A few impressive links came up, detailing her two decades in the art world. I checked her birthdate and saw she was 38. No boyfriends were mentioned, but I didn't see anything about girlfriends, either.

Then I stumbled upon an interview she did a few years ago about how she survived breast cancer. My beloved grandmother had suffered and died from the disease. I was stunned the vivacious and healthy woman from a few nights before had endured the same horror.

My eyes scanned the laptop's screen in a furious rush; I had a strange desperation to know every detail about her.

>>

The artist sits with a cigarette, arching an eyebrow when I cough meaningfully.

"Does it bother you?" she asks.

That seems to be the theme of her recent project. I point this out to her and she laughs, the smoke billowing out from her red lips.

"Yes, well, I found out I had breast cancer last year, you know. And I was bothered and I wanted everyone else to be, too. Not necessarily in a bad way. I wanted to disturb the air. Disturb people's molecules. Get them going."

"I wasn't aware you had cancer. How are you doing?"

For the first time since we sat down, Olivia looks vulnerable. "In remission, thank God. It was a tough battle and it took a lot out of me but I'm still here. Still painting. Still smoking. You'll be relieved to know I'm trying to quit." She grins and puts out her cigarette. "If something bothers you, darling, you only need to tell me."

And that sums up Olivia Beringer. Never eager to please, but equally never eager to hurt you.

>>

I yanked the painting out of its box and looked around at my dingy, empty apartment wondering where the hell to put it. I had "Starry Night" over my bed but it didn't really go with the decor, and considering this painting was about sex I figured it belonged in the bedroom.

Not that I would know anything about sex. It was coming up on a year I'd gone without, a frightening reality I didn't like to think about.

Instead I decided to think about my budding relationship with the enigmatic artist who inexplicably sent me a painting worth thousands of dollars. 

000000

"Yes?"

I nearly pressed "End" on my cellphone. I was terrified, and my boss (the District Attorney himself) was watching me through the window of my office. Personal calls were frowned upon, of course.

"Um, hi. Olivia?"

"Yes, this is Olivia. Who is this?"

"Hi. Um." I cleared my throat and straightened my back. The words wouldn't come.

This was absurd. We were going to dinner. That was it. It didn't have any other undertone just because she was a lesbian and I was straight. I knew plenty of gay people and never read anything extra into what they did, just as it was vice versa. 

So why did it feel like I was asking her out on a date?

"This is Elizabeth. From the art gallery. Well, the lawyer who was visiting the art gallery. You sent me 'Afterglow'?"

"Yes," she said with a smile in her voice. "I remember. Thank you for calling. I wasn't sure you would."

"Why wouldn't I?"

She was quiet on the other end for a few seconds. "Truth be told, you seem a little uptight."

"Oh," I said. I couldn't fault her for thinking that. "I see."

"So, were you planning to join me for dinner?"

I thought, "Hang up, Liz. This feels more and more like a date.You really don't need this. You're confused about your existence enough as it is. Blurring the lines of your sexuality is not necessary right now," on a continuous loop.

And yet another part of me was tempted by the worst sin ever: curiosity.

"Of course. I'd love to talk more about your work." I cleared my throat. "Dinner is fine. And talking about your work, uh, sounds...fine. Yeah."

She let out a breathy, silky laugh. "Free tonight?"

I took a deep breath. "I am."

"Meet me at The Brink at 7. Know it?"

"Of course."

"I'll ask for a table. See you there." 

She hung up, leaving me with the loud voices in mind going absolutely crazy.

000000

I was the first one there, naturally. It was engrained in me at an early age to be prompt. Plus I wanted the advantage of being there before her.

I sat at the table she reserved and sipped my vodka and OJ. It did nothing to ease my anxiety. Why I was so nervous I didn't know. I eventually concluded it was because I thought she was much smarter and prettier than me. She was the cool senior and I was the pimply freshman who couldn't meet her eyes.

Eventually Olivia drifted into the restaurant like a dream. She wore a gauzy, cream-colored dress and her hair danced way below her shoulders, tickling the bottoms of her breasts. My eyes traveled down to her heels, which were pink and higher than anything I'd ever dare wear. Men broke their necks as they watched her cross the restaurant, but she kept her eyes on me.

She sank into the seat across from me and eyed my orange juice and vodka with amusement. "Needed the hard stuff tonight, darling?"

And just like that I was the awkward girl again.

"I like vodka," I said. I prayed she didn't see the way I self-consciously squirmed in my seat.

"How about we switch to wine?" She gestured to the waiter and ordered us the most expensive red on the menu.

Then those mesmerizing eyes settled back on me. "Aren't you curious why I asked you to meet with me?"

The waiter promptly returned with our wine. I focused on the sound of it dripping into my glass rather than her stare.

The waiter disappeared and Olivia clinked my glass with her own. "For a lawyer, you're not very talkative."

That got me to smile. "I usually am. Most times people are telling me to shut up."

"Really?" She watched me like I was the most fascinating specimen of human on the planet, which was just not so. 

"I think I'm just in awe of your talent a bit. Like a fangirl."

"A fangirl?" She smiled and tilted her head. "I don't know the expression."

"It's like when a girl is a really big fan of something or someone. It's dumb."

She sipped her wine. The waiter came back and we ordered our dinners--steak for her, chicken for me. And then we were alone. Truly alone.

"Elizabeth," she began. Her voice startled me. "I'm a very blunt person. As a lawyer, I'll assume you typically are, too. I want to explain to you why I've invited you here tonight, though you will not ask. I suspect you're afraid. Perhaps I should be afraid, too, and be wise. Get up and leave you." Her smile was slow but it crept up her face until her eyes glowed. "I'm not a wise woman. You can tell by my paintings I have a lot of heartbreak. I enjoy it. It gives me material. It makes me strong. It makes me a woman, in fact. We all carry heartbreak, yes?"

Under her thrall, I nodded.

"I also have a habit of finding straight women irresistible. My last two lovers were straight. They were great lovers. I loved both of them equally and fiercely, but it ended. Know why?" Her smile turned a bit sad. "They were not in love with me. With the idea of 'different', the idea of 'novelty', the idea of 'an artist' who saw what was inside buried beneath their makeup and designer dresses, yes. Not me. You understand?"

"I think so."

She took my hand and circled my palm with her finger. "I saw you looking at my painting with such longing. Such yearning. I paid attention to everyone's face when they looked at that one. It was most important to me. And it seemed like you got it because you looked like you wanted it. Maybe I'm being a fool...but I'd still like to get to know you. What do you say?"

My hand in hers felt heavy. "I don't know what to say. Is this a...date?" She shrugged in reply. I sucked in a breath because of her non-response, which was an answer in itself. Rather than freak out, I decided to keep talking. "I don't really get why...why you... Why me?"

"I wanted to paint you. That was my first thought." She looked down and noticed she was squeezing my hand. She pulled away and strangely I wanted to grab her hand back, but I didn't. I reached for my wine, instead.

"Paint me how? I can't imagine anyone painting me," I laughed.

Olivia met my stare. "I could paint you. I'd love to, in fact. At my opening you looked trapped and uncomfortable. You looked like you desired to be miles away. I imagined you on the sand somewhere. In a desert looking beautiful. On a boat. Anywhere but there."

I kept my eyes on the table. "I don't really love the art scene."

"Yes, there are lots of phony people around. One must be careful." She thanked the waiter who put her steak before her. I moved back so that he could bring me my dinner, noticing for the first time how I was practically sprawled across the table.

I didn't know what to do. She hadn't answered definitively if this was a date or not, and I didn't know how that made me feel. Should I run? Stay? Freak out? My mind was so busy trying to make sense of it all that I remained there, seated with uncertainty.

"Why did you want to paint cigarette ashes and wine glasses?"

I looked up from cutting my chicken. "What?"

"Remember I asked you what you would paint?"

Ah, yes. "Because they looked lonely. I hate seeing the remnants of things left behind. Ostracized. "

She took a bite of steak. "Are you sure you're in the right field? You're much more of an artist than you realize."

I laughed. "I don't think so. I'm fond of concrete ideas. Things I can touch and see."

"Me too," she said, running a finger around the rim of her wine glass. Her eyes reflected gold from the candle on the table. 

My nervous energy transitioned to an entirely different energy I wasn't at all familiar with. 

"What's your favorite movie?" I blurted. I wanted to inject a little normalcy into this encounter, something that everyone asked people.

Olivia's eyebrows lifted. "What's yours?"

"An Affair to Remember," I answered without thinking. 

She grinned and tossed her black hair back. "Ha! Of course it is! I knew you were a romantic!"

"I'm not, I swear!" I giggled, the wine and the dizzying quality of Olivia's presence getting to me.

"It's okay to be a romantic, Elizabeth." She said my name like she was making love to it. "We all are in some ways. My favorite movie is Pulp Fiction. Not initially thought of to be romantic but there is romance there in ways people don't often realize."

"Where are you from?" I asked, wanting to pin down her accent.

She moved her head back and forth. "Everywhere. I was born in France. I spent half my childhood in Italy. Most of my young adulthood in Germany. Then I moved here to New York. I've been here for fifteen years."

"Do you like it here?"

"Yes. There is a sad beauty here that I admire."

"I have a confession to make," I announced, putting down my silverware. I wasn't sure it was a good idea, but it was something I felt like I had to do before the night was over. I was interested in getting to know her better, though to what purpose I didn't know. 

"Oh? I'm intrigued."

"I read an article about how you had breast cancer. And I think you're so brave."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "People always tell me that. I'm not brave. If you only knew how much of a scaredy-cat I am..."

I shook my head. "You're brave. Like my grandmother. She had it."

She stopped shaking her head. "Oh?"

"She lost the fight. She was so sick towards the end. We were very, very close. She practically raised me."

Enthralled with me for no reason at all, Olivia put down her knife and fork and stared at me. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

"She lived a long life. I just wish she hadn't had to suffer."

Olivia took my hand. "Me too."

We moved on to lighter topics until the restaurant closed. I grew more comfortable, hardly aware of the number of people around us dwindling until Olivia stood and draped her coat over her shoulders.

"It's time to go, darling."

I stood on shaky feet and followed her out into the late February night. It was snowing and the ice cold flakes brought me back to reality. It even undid the magic of her spell and the daze of the alcohol.

"Holy shit," I shouted.

Olivia paused in her steps and took my arm, dragging me over to a closed storefront so we didn't block the still-crowded streets.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes scanning my face.

"I was just on a date."

She laughed and her breath curled in the air around us. "Yes."

It gave me a small comfort that she didn't deny it, that I wasn't going crazy. "I really was on a date. That was a date, right? A romantic date?"

Olivia tossed her hair back and laughed. "Yes!"

"With a woman."

She patted her chest as if checking for breasts. "That is indeed so."

My heart thudded and I began panting. "How the hell did this happen?"

Her smile faded. "Are you upset?"

"I'm terrified."

She pulled my hand up to her lips and kissed a fingertip. "It'll be okay, Elizabeth. I'm not forcing you to do anything."

"I want to do things, though. Oh my God! What is this? What's happening to me? We only spent a few hours together and I want you! This is absurd!"

A man passed by us and laughed. Olivia rolled her eyes and moved closer. "What kind of things do you want to happen?"




Afterglow Pt. 01



"This isn't me. I'm scared! This is scary!"

"It is," she said, nodding. "Let me walk you home."

"No! You'll kiss me."

She laughed in my ear. "I won't. Not if you don't want me to."

"I just want to be friends. Just friends."

"I'll try. You're very delectable, my dear."

"No men seem to think so."

She pulled back a little. "Really? Or is it the other way around?"

Olivia placed her hand on my back, nearly the tickly part of my waist. The scant touch released thousands of butterflies into my stomach.

I hardly knew the woman and I somehow ended up on a date with her. She was the first person who caught my interest in a long, long time and she had a pussy.

Then it was like someone knocked me over the head with something jagged and heavy. "Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God. Am I GAY?!"

Olivia laughed the hardest yet. "Sweetheart, let me walk you home. You're drunk. I have no idea if you're gay or not."

She took my arm in hers and we walked through the falling snow. I murmured my address when she asked for it and then we were silent.

My building finally appeared through the white blanket of snow and I climbed the stoop, disengaging from her grip.

I dropped my keys and cursed. Olivia grabbed them and smoothly handed them to me, holding on to my hand for an extra moment.

"There's no need to panic. You are who you are, what you are, and no one can decide that but yourself. I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to get to know you. Please don't be angry with me. I hope you will agree to at least being my friend."

"Could we really keep it just friends?" 

I looked at her for the first time since my freak out and saw her biting her lip to keep from smiling. "I don't think I could."

She looked so beautiful there. Snow catching in her dark hair, her bright eyes imploring me for something. A chance, maybe. 

A part of me said, "Fuck it," and took over.

I stepped down from the stoop, wrapped my arms around her and kissed her. I ignored her wide eyes, her exclamation muffled by my lips and the cheers of two drunk guys down the street.

Once my lips met her own, everything around us melted like the snow on our faces. It was just Olivia and her delicious mouth that tasted faintly of the wine we drank. After a couple of seconds she lifted her hands to my face, cradling it as she took possession of me. It was her kiss, now—not mine. I let her kiss me, let her suck my tongue with her own until I was a shaking mess of nerves and flesh.

We kissed for an eternity under a street lamp and a purple New York sky, and it never once occurred to me I was kissing a woman because it simply didn't matter.

This was Olivia. I didn't totally know her yet, but I wanted to.

Chapter II: I Kissed a Girl

"You kissed a girl." Jacqueline pushed back her large sunglasses so she could gape at me better. She glanced around our office to make sure no one was listening. Roger, our boss, walked by and waved. 

When he was gone, she focused her attention back to me and shook her head, her fiery red hair flowing with each turn of her head. 

"You kissed a girl."

"And I liked it," I joked.

Because seriously, if I let myself think too much about it I was sure I'd go insane.

Olivia had left without a word after our kiss. I floated upstairs in a dream state, passed out, and woke up to the sun with a hangover from too much red wine and kisses. I didn't know what to do, and I was late for work.

At first I didn't want to tell Jackie. I didn't know how she'd take it. Then she handed me a report and the words "I kissed a girl" plopped right from my mouth.

She didn't think my joke was funny. Her peach lips frowned at me and she squeezed further into my cubicle. "I'm trying to wrap my head around this... Who was it?"

"Olivia Beringer."

Her eyes popped open. "That artist you were telling me about? Holy shit. You saw her again?"

"She asked me to dinner. I couldn't say no."

Jacqueline pulled over a chair and sat down. At least she wasn't horrified by me, or worse, scared of me. She pulled at the sleeve of my shirt. "More. Tell me more. Now."

I told her about how Olivia sent the painting, how there was this crackling awareness around her, how I'd never had such an amazing kiss before. Jacqueline listened to my whispers with amazing patience, nodding and swallowing when I described how suddenly nothing was more appealing to me than Olivia's body.

"Is it like that with...all girls?" Jackie asked, becoming self-conscious for the first time since I told her I might be gay.

I rolled my eyes. "How the hell should I know? I've only been aware another woman could excite me for about twelve hours."

She ran her fingers through her hair and shifted awkwardly on her seat. I got the drift.

"No. I'm not thinking about you like that."

I could have sworn she looked relieved. "Maybe it's just a phase. Or maybe you're, like, just into her art. Sometimes really talented people are just naturally hot. I've never been exposed to anything like that; maybe I'd become a dyke if I was around such power."

"What if it's not a phase? What the hell would I tell my parents?" I asked. I ignored the questionable use of dyke, and the strange way she seemed to be explaining away my experience. My amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience.

She stared at me like I was a moron and let a small smirk creep across her face. She gathered up a few papers, stood, and gave one last shake of her head. "It's a phase because it's just not you, Liz. I know you."

My friend walked away, leaving me wondering just how much she knew me. And just how much I knew myself.

Later that afternoon my cell rang just as I was getting that groggy I-need-another-cup-of-coffee feeling. I peered at the screen and saw it was Olivia. That perked me right up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Elizabeth," she said. She always sounded like she was smiling.

"Olivia. Hi. How are you?" I sounded like a moron.

"Fine, you?"

"I'm...okay."

"Would you be available for dinner tomorrow night? I was thinking you could come over to my place."

"Your place?" I'm sure I squeaked.

"Would that be okay?" Her laugh was blowing away all my second thoughts.

"That would be lovely."

"I'll text you my address. Ta, darling." 

She hung up before I could say goodbye or change my mind.

000000

Saturday morning I woke to five missed calls from my mother and one "WHERE ARE YOU?!" text. The woman thought that if I didn't respond to her immediately I was dead in an alley somewhere. No matter how many times I reminded her I was 28 and that I'd been living on my own for many years, she couldn't accept the fact I lived a separate life. I dialed her number with reluctance and she picked up before the first ring even finished.

"Where have you been?"

I looked at the time. 9:40 AM. "Sleeping, Mom."

"This late?"

"I like to sleep in on the weekends. Like a normal person."

She made a noise under her breath. "I wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight. You haven't come over in months."

I loved my mother—truly—but she was a neurotic woman that had a habit of accentuating my own anxieties and turning me into a frayed mess by the end of a visit. My father was a quiet man who often fed into her worries. Going over for dinner wasn't something I particularly looked forward to.

"Can't tonight, Mom. I have plans."

"Ooo, a date?"

Ugh, sort of but I couldn't tell her that! She'd want to know all the details and I couldn't articulate them yet. I was still in denial about the date part, too.

"Dinner with a friend."

Mom sighed. "Always dinner with a friend, never 'movies with the boyfriend'. I worry about you, honey. You haven't dated in the longest time."

"I went on a date the other night with a coworker. It was a disaster."

My dog Toronto jumped on my bed. He must have realized I was awake and was now demanding a walk. He nudged my knee with his cold, wet nose and I squealed into the phone.

"What? What was that?"

"Just Toronto," I sighed. "Look, I'll try to stop by for dessert or something. Tomorrow would work better."

"I don't want to guilt you into it."

"You're not." She was.

I fought the desire to just hang up. Talking to her was such work. "I just have plans with Olivia and-"

"Who is that? I've never heard of an Olivia before."

Rolling my eyes, I slipped into pajama pants and hooked Toronto up to his leash. "She's an artist. I met her the other night. She's really great."

Mom was quiet for a minute. "You're going out on a Saturday night with an artist?"

I walked out into the brisk Saturday morning and stomped through a couple of inches of snow on the ground. Mom acted like an artist was a different species. Rolling my eyes, I pulled Toronto closer. "That's what I said."

"I didn't know you hung out with artists."

"Okay, Mom, gotta run. See you tomorrow maybe? Give me a call."

"Elizabeth, I-"

I pressed end, not feeling very guilty.

000000

Olivia lived in an impeccable brownstone in Brooklyn. My mouth dropped when I saw it. Honestly, I shouldn't have been so surprised. She clearly had money. Still, seeing the tall brick building, exuding wealth and status in New York, was intimidating. And knowing the occupant made me shiver. I rang the doorbell and quickly shoved my hands back into my pockets to keep them warm.

She answered the door wearing a stunning purple dress that drifted all the way to the black heels she wore. Her stunning brown eyes were lined with thick makeup and looked all the more exotic for it.

"Elizabeth," she exhaled, like she didn't know if I'd show or not. And truthfully I'd thought about turning back around about fifty million times.

If last time wasn't entirely wasn't a date, this was. 

I blushed and smiled. "Hi."

"Come in. I'm just chopping some onions." She wiped at her eyes. "Any of my makeup leaking?"

I smiled while stepping over the threshold. "You look perfect." 

Olivia shut the door and checked me out. Her whole face glowed. "Thank you. You, too."

I followed her to her kitchen where bunches of different pans sizzled. It smelled delicious.

"I love to cook," Olivia said, waving to the mess in front of us. "It soothes me." She poured me a glass of wine, clinked my glass with hers, and watched me over the rim as she took a generous sip. "What soothes you?"

It took me a few minutes to think about it. Olivia let me stutter while she went back to chopping."I-I'm not... Well. I don't know."

"You need to relax, honey. Maybe I'll give you a massage later." She grinned at my blush. "No one takes care of you, do they? Or you don't let them, perhaps."

Sipping at my wine, I shrugged. I was uncomfortable. She sensed it and changed the conversation.

"Long, hot baths soothe me, too. I think about a lot of my work in there. Images I want to see painted."

"I like baths. Bubble baths." I smiled. "I take one every night, actually."

Olivia's eyes scanned my body. "Interesting. I'd like to see you unwind. Anyway, we're having chicken tonight. I thought I better play it safe with you."

"God, I'm beginning to worry you think I'm boring!" A nervous laugh bubbled up from my chest.

"No," Olivia snickered. "I don't invite boring people over here. I'm just scared of you, a little."

My eyes widened. "Scared of me?"

"You're intimidating in your own quiet way. So smart." She cut into the flesh of the chicken, trimming its edges before throwing it into simmering oil. The scent of the onions cooking wafted over and my mouth watered. "And I don't want to do anything to freak you out."

It was calming in a way to hear that Olivia had fears of her own, in spite of her composure. It dawned on me later that maybe she was playing them up to get me to relax, but no matter what it helped to relieve the tension in my shoulders. I let out a long breath and gave her the first genuine smile of the night.

She cooked and asked me questions.

"Who was your first love?"

I had to think. "Tom. He was a lifeguard. My mom told me he was too old for me." I laughed when Olivia shook her head. "So naturally I thought he was a lot more gorgeous than he was. We started dating and I really thought I loved him. Then college happened and he cheated on me. To be fair, we grew apart." I sat down on the stool and leaned on my elbows, propping my chin on my hands. "What about you?"

"His name was Charlie. He was an American. He thought he was a poet." She rolled her eyes. "He managed to persuade me into believing that, too."

My breath caught. "Your first love was a man?"

"I'm bi, or I thought I was for years. Now I just go for pussy."

Her frank language brought the blood rushing to my face again and she barked out a laugh.

"Life is too short to use euphemisms or skirt around the issue. I like women. I like their lips, their hair, their eyes. The way they walk and talk and think. Their hips. Their brains. Their hands. Just them. Men, I've tried. I've had some great lovers that were men, and some tremendous orgasms. In the end, however, it's women for me."

"I don't know what I'm doing here," I finally whispered.

Olivia plated our dinner and then came around to lift my chin up so I looked her in the eyes. "You're experimenting. You're having dinner. You're living life."

She took the plates in her dining room, and for the millionth time since I met Olivia, I followed.

000000

"I've never known someone who couldn't whistle," I laughed. Tears rolled down my cheeks as she contorted her lips, failing over and over.

Olivia shrugged. "I never said I was perfect."

"You purse your lips and push your tongue back. Here, try it." I puckered my lips like a moron and let air seep through the small, wet hole of my lips.

Something changed in Olivia's face. She leaned her upper body across the small expanse of the table, ignoring my jolt of shock, and kissed me. Maybe I drank too much wine, or maybe I really wanted it, but I quickly decided it was the best kiss I ever had.

It was different kissing a woman. Describing it is difficult. She was all soft and sweet-smelling, all smoothness and feminine whimpers. Everything she touched on my body—my throat down to my breasts, heavy and aching for her hands—she had, too. It was an odd but incredibly erotic thought that had me rubbing my thighs together. Passionate desire careened into my pussy, making me wet and desperate. 

My shaking hand found her hair. I pressed my fingers into her scalp, trying to bring her head closer to me. She moaned and stood, detaching her mouth from mine.

"Come," she ordered.

Somehow I got up and took her hand. She brought me upstairs. We passed beautiful painting after beautiful painting, one naked woman after another. She tightened her hand around mine to offer reassurance, and turned to smile at me over her shoulder. 

Finally we walked into her bedroom. It was simple compared to the rest of her house. A painting of two faceless and naked women reclining against one another hung above her bed which was covered in pure white. Her walls were a subtle cream. And the dresser against her other wall was also white. I felt like I stepped into a Stanley Kubrick movie for a moment.

Then she touched my shoulder. I could feel the heat of her hand through my sweater.

"If you don't want this to happen, you can say so at any time. I promise I won't push anything on you." In those sex-tinted moments, her accent became heavier. In one unabashed rush, she shed her dress and stepped out of its puddle. She kept her heels on, and the sexy white lace lingerie beneath. I never expected her to wear white; it was fucking hot against the tan of her skin. She grinned as I took in an audible breath.

Something about her wearing white provoked me. I moved forward and slowly ran a hand down her arm. Goosebumps sprang up across her skin.

"Take your sweater off," she purred.

I complied. Olivia's eyes widened at the simple red bra I wore underneath. She licked her lips. "God, I want to paint you."

"Now?" My voice was throaty. I didn't sound like myself at all.

She lifted her eyebrows. "I had other things in mind for the moment. You'll have to wear that some other time. Now take off your jeans."

I was proud my hands only shook a little as I popped the button from its hole. My pulse had to be visible in my throat. Olivia just watched with perfect calmness as I slipped the denim down my smooth legs. The sensation of the jeans and the feeling of Olivia's brown eyes drinking me in had me wetter than I'd ever been. I wore red panties to match, and shivered when the air hit the moistened fabric. As I moved, my pussy slid against the silk material.

"Now your bra."

Perhaps another time, or if Olivia had been a man, I would have teased her. I would have played the age-old game of flirting, of withholding something the other partner wanted. Maybe I would have said something cliche like "you first". Maybe I would have lowered one strap and pouted. 

But I was too nervous for all of that, and it didn't seem right pulling that with Olivia. I took my bra off in a rush, my nipples hardening further in the cool air. She made a sound of pleasure and brought her hands up to the lacy bra, barely concealing the dark nipples underneath. 

"Get on the bed." She was no longer speaking to me in a soft, coaxing way but as an authoritative seductress who wouldn't stand for any fooling around.

I got on the bed with my knees first, quickly dropping down to my ass so I could face her. I scooted back against her pillows and watched with heavy lids while she removed her own bra. Her breasts were as tan as the rest of her, and her nipples were like perfect berries I wanted to sink my teeth into.

She brought one knee up onto the bed, stretching so that I could see the taut fabric just covering the slickness of her pussy. She laughed when I reflexively tugged on one of my nipples.

"Not such a novice after all, are you?"

I blinked. The words were foreign to me, both because of the increasing heaviness of her accent and the drugged state of my brain. She brought her other leg up to join its partner and then moved to hover over me. Her hair drifted down, the ends brushing against my sensitive nipples. I made a small noise in my throat and she snickered.

Two fingers traveled up my right inner thigh. "I wonder if you're wet? I'm willing to make a very large wager," she breathed against my parted lips, "that you are."

The fingers pressed against my soaked panties. 

She grinned, her teeth perfect except for one on the left side that was just slightly crooked. "Oh, dear. I would have won." She kissed me, swallowing my groan as her wicked fingers slipped through the side of my underwear and ran across the drenched lips with cruel slowness.

"The things I'm going to do to you," she promised. "Sweet girl."

She kissed down my throat, over my collarbone. Her tongue made the journey down to my right nipple, swirling around in a frenzied circle. I arched and writhed like a wanton cat, desperate for attention.

"Oh God," I begged. Olivia hummed against my nipple, nibbling on it now and then. I thrust my hips into the air again, but I needed something else. 

She licked down my quivering stomach, pausing to stick her tongue into my bellybutton. I gasped and she giggled.

"How I'll make you scream," she said against my hip. 

And then that mouth sucked my wet panties into her mouth. I cried out at both the sensation of her tongue briefly against me and the sound of her sucking my juices from the fabric. 

So close to an orgasm. So far away from everything I ever knew.

Looking down at her eyes, hungry for me, and seeing the curves of her perfect ass, feeling her tits pressed against my knee, I panicked.

I pushed at her forehead and backed away from her. She sat up, her expression perplexed.




Afterglow Pt. 01



"I-I c-can't. I can't d-do this," I stammered. I jumped up from the bed and ran over to my discarded clothes, eagerly putting them on.

Olivia sat on the edge of my bed, watching. She was silent, and didn't say any words to draw me back.

As I was fighting with my jeans, trying to button back into the fucking hole where it belonged, I felt her hand on my shoulder. I spun around and she was still naked on top. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"You're freaking out."

"A bit, yeah. Sorry. I just—I have to go home. Okay?"

"May I call you?"

My eyes opened and she stood in front of me, looking fragile and worried.

"Yeah. Okay. Just—I gotta run."

And run I did...down her stairs, through the door to her perfect brownstone, and into the nearest cab.

Chapter III: Back to Black

Sunday morning Olivia left me a message.

"I've been thinking. I'm really sorry. I took things too fast. In my hunger for you, I forgot to woo you properly. Please give me another chance."

I was a mess the whole day, eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch right out of the box and staring at my cell phone like she could see me through it. I wasn't ready to call her yet, though I knew I would. I knew it like I knew the sun would rise tomorrow. My body, still wet and eager, knew it even better than I did.

Even Toronto was moody, refusing to chase after his toys when I threw them (as I desperately fought off the desire to call her back).

Then Monday morning came and I didn't know how I could call her. I blushed every time I thought of her body above mine, and turned completely red when I thought about how I pushed her away. This was so beyond my comfort zone. I needed a distraction.

So I drank coffee all day and buried myself in reading a current case. It was about a woman, Rose Sherman, desperately trying to get away from her stalker. Scary, compelling stuff. It infuriated me how lenient stalker laws were. He'd been terrorizing her for nearly a year before he finally broke into her apartment and screwed up by leaving behind fingerprints and a nasty present in her panties. The cops were able to bring him in and now the legal system could bring Rose some justice. He was out on bail, but he was being heavily monitored. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he was behind bars permanently.

I would have to meet with her later in the week and get an idea on how I could represent her to the fullest. Forget about trying to impress my boss and the other lawyers in the department; I wanted to support this poor woman.

Jackie came over to my desk that afternoon and noticed my jumpiness.

"What's wrong with you?"

I took a big gulp of my coffee and shook my head. "What? Nothing. Why? Nothing is wrong with me."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Anyway, how's your lesbian?"

I rolled my eyes. "Lovely, Jackie."

"Over that absurdity yet?"

"Why is it absurd?" I asked, trying to remove all annoyance from my tone. It didn't work. Jacqueline grew defensive.

"Oh, I don't know... Maybe because I've known you for eight years and you've always liked dick. Remember John Grant, your ex-boyfriend who you used to be obsessed with?"

I shuddered remembering John and how terrible our breakup was. Yeah, I had been obsessed with him until he asked me to marry him. Funny how those things turn out. After that I took a year off from dating, which brought me up to the current day, hanging out with a lesbian on my weekends. 

"What's your point?"

"My point is that sometimes we get depressed and do crazy shit. My sister gets a tattoo every time she goes into a depression. I eat everything in my house. Maybe your thing is crazy experimentation that will not only hurt you, but her in the process. Ever think of that?"

I felt like she just slapped me. "She's a big girl, too, you know."

"Look, just go out with a guy. Any guy. Remember what it feels like. It's been a year, Elizabeth!"

"I went out with Robert the other night and—"

"You hardly gave him a chance." Jacqueline leaned against my desk. "I just think you need to experiment with what you know before you experiment with what you don't. Like, do marijuana before you do heroin. Know what I mean?"

She patted my head and left. I opened my cell and stared at Olivia's name, so incredibly tempted to call or text. But I couldn't. Jacqueline was right, to an extent. Olivia was a fantastic person who deserved to be loved deeply by someone who had their shit together.

It just wasn't me. Why else would I panic when I had a woman between my thighs?

I got back to work, now with a pulsating headache. Truthfully I didn't have time for silly romances, not when such an important case that could make or break me landed on my desk.

000000

"Elizabeth!"

I turned in the lobby of my office building and saw Robert chasing after me. He didn't call after our date at the art gallery—mostly, I assumed, because I didn't invite him up to my apartment. I tolerated his existence at the office, his sly smiles and obnoxious winks—who winks anymore?—because it seemed normal to do so. Jacqueline constantly reminded me what a gorgeous guy he was and how I hadn't had sex in a year. An eternity, in her eyes.

The last guy I had sex with was John Grant, my boyfriend of three years before he asked me to marry him and I freaked out and broke up with him. Though I loved him, he was admittedly a bore towards the end. And he never made me come; I mastered the art of faking it. Sex was just never that exciting for me, and I didn't completely miss it.

Of course there were nights when it seemed like every nerve-ending in my body was alive. My sheets teased me with each scrap of the fabric. The wind blown in from my open windows skirted across my shirt and I wouldn't be able to resist teasing my nipples. A hand would inevitably travel down to my panties and I would make myself see stars before drifting off to sleep, wondering if that was the gauzy madness Jackie referred to.

Then I went out on dates with people like Robert, listened to them drone on about their day, and panicked about the thought of them anywhere near me. Only Olivia reawakened the urge to seek that satisfaction in another person and I couldn't go through with it. 

"Elizabeth," Robert repeated again. I looked at him so properly dressed and nodded. "Sorry I didn't get a chance to call you. The other night was fantastic. I had such a great time."

I forced a smile. "Wonderful."

"Listen, would you want to get drinks tonight? It was a busy day and I need to blow off some steam."

I opened my mouth to refuse. Then the elevator doors opened and Jacqueline appeared. She saw Robert hovering over me and gave a thumbs up. She disappeared into the wintry afternoon, leaving me with the reminder that I wasn't gay. Robert was exactly what I should want. A cock is what I personally needed to fill me, not Olivia's fingers or her artful tongue.

The very thought of that aroused me. Confused, annoyed, terrified, I heard myself telling Robert yes. It couldn't hurt to get one drink, I told myself. So I ignored the predatory gleam in his eye, the way he stood too close and the beat of my heart that told me with every throb this was wrong, wrong, wrong.

000000

"So I told Jake, I said, 'Jake. You want to go into court for something this fucking stupid, you just go right the fuck ahead.' God, what a fucking moron he is." 

Robert sipped his wine and sank back into his seat. The wine and the crowded bar made me hot, so I pulled my sweater off and ignored Robert's blue eyes watching.

"Jake is a really talented lawyer. I'm shocked he'd want to try a case that wasn't worth it." 

Robert didn't like my answer. "He wants every opportunity to haul ass in there to show off. Roger thinks he's some golden boy, too. Typical you'd want to defend him."

Our boss was a bit of a hero in my eyes so I was irritated he was speaking so dismissively of him. "Roger doesn't have favorites. And why is that typical?"

"Because he's a good-looking guy. You should know though—he's gay. Just like your artist friend." He grinned and I didn't like it.

"My artist friend?"

"Yeah, Olivia Beringer. She couldn't take her eyes off you the other night. Jackie mentioned you went out to dinner with her." He gulped down some more wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I had no idea you were into girls."

My heartbeat quickened. "I'm not. It was just dinner."

He pulled out his wallet and left a generous amount of bills on the table—at least he was a good tipper. He yanked on his jacket. "Let's get out of here. It's fucking boiling with all these shits here."

I followed him out, furious with Jackie for telling on me and scared that someone knew a secret about me. Something I wasn't even sure I knew, myself.

Once we were out of the bar and standing on the sidewalk, Robert ran his hand down my arm. I shivered, and not in a good way.

He kissed me. It was too much tongue and too little lip. There was nothing erotic about it. He moaned into my mouth; he seemed to be enjoying it, at least. I let him stand there, moving his slippery tongue against my own in the freezing cold. He pulled away and grinned with sickening confidence.

"So, you like pussy, huh?" he asked. 

I blinked up at him. "Excuse me?"

"Tell me all about it, baby." He got too close. His hand wrapped around my arm in a painful grip. "You're a cock-tease. Personally, all gay people gross me out but there's nothing like a hot lesbian. Why don't you—"

"Shut the hell up."

"Oh yeah?" His lips curled into an obnoxious sneer. "Or what?"

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again."

He grinned with incredible self-confidence. "What are you gonna do about it...dyke?"

"I'll tell everyone that you fucked Roger's wife."

Thanks to Jackie and her large ass mouth, I'd heard that the summer before Robert had a brief but extensive affair with the Roger's bored wife. It would destroy not only his career but also his life if Roger ever got wind of it. 

Robert's eyes turned panicked. 

"Yeah, I thought so," I said. 

I spun on my heel towards home just as it started to snow. 

That night was one of those nights where my body came alive and my hand had a mind of its own. It played its way down, grasping at my thighs and stroking my lips. A circle around my clit. An inch inside of me.

Suddenly it was Olivia there, her clever smile and wicked mouth. Right, wrong, me or not me, I let the fantasy play out. It was her hand between my thighs, her mouth drinking from me. I lost myself in a trembling orgasm and fell asleep right after, questions and doubts left for morning. 

00000

I stayed as far away from Jacqueline as I could the next day. I was still pissed at her for telling Robert about Olivia. I was also irritated she thought he was some kind of catch. 

Rose Sherman came to meet me just before lunch. Poor girl watched everyone, looking as though she half-expected them to attack her. Her friend held her arm and approached me. 

"Hi, Elizabeth?"

"That's me." I shook her hand.

"I'm Felicity, Rose's partner."

I nearly asked if they were business partners, but then I noticed the intimacy of their touch, the way Rose looked at Felicity like she was her only salvation. Then I recalled references to Felicity in the case file and it all made sense. What a coincidence that I would happen upon such a case. I brushed off thoughts of Olivia and got to work.

"Please sit."

Their hands remained clasped as we went over the details. We would have to pause sometimes, as some of the accounts made Rose hyperventilate. I felt terrible.

After the last episode, I closed the case file. "You know what? Why don't we go out and grab some lunch?"

Rose looked to Felicity. She nodded and jutted her chin at the file. "Too many bad memories."

We went to a little diner around the corner. After our steaming plates were brought to us, I tried to glean a little more information out of the skittish Rose.

"So he was an ex-boyfriend?"

She stared down at her soup. "That's right."

"And his behavior picked up when you two dated?"

"No, not really. Maybe. Our relationship was pretty intense and he was always sort of dominant, I guess. But it's really been bad since we broke up. Dan thinks me dating Felicity is some kinda joke. Or, like, a ploy to make him jealous, or even turned-on." She shuddered. "One time he sent me pictures of us. Felicity and me." Her shamed eyes met mine. "In bed."

I shook my head. "How long has this been going on, exactly? The order of your protection you filed is fairly recent."

"I felt stupid about it, at first," Rose confessed. She cupped her mug and looked out the window, lost in thought. "He didn't do anything threatening back then. We'd dated for only five months, but I could tell I was the most serious relationship he ever had. I thought maybe he needed some time to adjust. He just lost his job, his life was in turmoil. I didn't want to call the police and complain because he texted and called me all day."

"You thought it would stop." I pushed my food away. The sadness draped over her and the overwhelming compassion brewing in my chest made me lose my appetite. 

"Of course I did. Nothing like that ever happened to me before. Usually I was the one being dumped." She offered a small smile. "Who knew I'd wish I was dumped again."

"When did the threats start?"

She toyed with a french fry. "Maybe about a month later, when it was clear I had no intention of getting back together. It was weird, at first, but I didn't feel threatened. Dan left boxes of chocolate and flowers at my apartment. Packages began arriving at work." She squeezed her fingers together until the fry was mush. "He even sent some shit to my mom. Now I know it was to let me know he could get to her, too. A few weeks later, the letters started."

Felicity stoked her cheek and Rose relaxed into the touch.

"You went to the police then?"

Rose nodded. "They thought it was cute. They said I should be flattered. When I showed them the letters, they said, 'What a poor guy. He's heartbroken.' They told me there wasn't anything they could do until Dan officially broke the law." She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "I was so frustrated and hopeless."

"Then the letters got worse," Felicity broke in. "We had just started dating and I was like, what the fuck. This guy is crazy. The letters came in the mail after we went out a couple of times. He must have followed us. He detailed things he wanted to do to her. Sent her pictures of sex and murder victims, saying how pretty she'd look like that. It was sick stuff. He mentioned me a few times, too. Once that started, I sent her back to the cops. That's when they gave us the order of protection."

"And that's when he broke into the apartment?" I sipped my coffee, even as my stomach churned.

"No. He killed our cat first."

Rose flinched. "We're not sure. We don't have any proof."

"I know it," Felicity said resolutely.

"About how long after your cat died did he tear your place apart?"

Rose took a deep breath. "A day later."

"Tell me about the day he broke into your apartment."

"I came home and everything was all over the place. He'd burned pictures of my family, scribbled over pictures we had up of the two of us. Threw kitty litter everywhere." She swallowed. "Left semen in my underwear. I'm pretty sure he stole some, too."

Felicity hugged her and kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear. 

Obviously it made me think of Olivia. How strange the world works. I have a sexual identity crisis and two women in love stumble onto my lap. 

Overcome with sympathy for them, I reached out a hand to both and squeezed. "I promise I'll get him. I'm definitely going to get him."

000000

The rest of the day went by in slow motion. Robert stayed the fuck away from me, thank God, and Jackie was out meeting a client. 

I knew I was scheduled to go to court in a few days, so I tried to do as much prep work as I could. 

But honestly, I was distracted. Olivia's lips, or voice, or even her hands would flash into my mind, tormenting me. I became convinced it was rude to not at least call her back.

Before I could think more about it, I fished my cell phone from my purse and called her.

She picked up after the third ring. "Elizabeth."

"I'm sorry I'm only getting back to you now. I've been... busy."

"Of course. I assumed you were."

Before I could stop myself, I asked, "Want to get some dinner tonight?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Are you sure?" 

"Positive." I swallowed afterwards and shut my eyes, waiting for her response.

"Okay. Meet me at the pub on the corner of your street at 7."

"I'll be there," I promised and listened to her hang up.

000000

The bar was crowded. Some basketball game was on, and every other five seconds a chorus of men groaned. 

I sat on the corner of the bar, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as I nursed my beer. Olivia was late. I figured I deserved to be kept waiting.

When she ran in, she marched over to me with such force that any awkwardness I might have felt disappeared. "It's pouring out there!"

"Is it?" I looked her over and noticed she was soaking wet. She shook off her drenched coat.

She shook out her hair. "And freezing. I forgot my umbrella, too." She beckoned over the bartender and ordered a cosmo. Finally her eyes swept over me. "Lucky you missed it."

"Yeah, I don't have an umbrella, either. And my coat is pretty thin so it practically plasters itself to my..." I broke off, embarrassed I was referring to my body. Especially because of her weighty stare. 

She caught on to my discomfort and cleared her throat. "I didn't think I'd hear from you again. I think that every time we part."

I sipped my beer, looking for some courage. "I'm sorry I—"

"Stop being sorry," she snapped. "For goodness sake, Elizabeth. Either you want me or you don't."

"It's not really that easy."

Olivia rubbed her neck. She made the normal action seductive somehow. "It is."

"You can't always go after what feels good. You need to think about the ramifications."

"And what would be the ramifications if we fucked?"

I choked. "I— I don't even think I'm gay. I mean, I've never been with a woman before. I never even kissed a girl back when I was young and stupid, trying to get a guy's attention."

She rolled her eyes. "I should have known what I was getting into when I started flirting with a lawyer." She took my hands, ignoring my flinch. "Stop stressing yourself out. Stop worrying about definitions right now. What ramifications could possibly worry you? Do you think you'll go to jail if I suck on your clit? If you shove your fingers into my pussy?"

It was as though her words traveled through my body and stroked my pussy themselves. I squirmed on the stool, uncomfortable and horny. This wasn't like me, to get worked up over just words alone. It usually took me a long time to get to the point where I go crazy with lust, if that ever happens. Olivia's dirty talking was getting me going, and she knew it.

Triumph danced in her eyes when she pushed her tits against my arm. Her lips practically touched my ear when she whispered, "Will you have to go to confession when I ram my beautiful strap-on into your little pussy?"

I gasped and lifted my shoulder up to her mouth as if to push it away. I couldn't recall being this turned on in a long time, and I reflexively went to touch my own breast. I could feel the nipple pressing against the material of my dress.

Olivia laughed and only then did I realize what I'd done. I hopped off the stool and her giggling stopped. She almost looked scared, like I was going to run and leave her. She opened her mouth, perhaps to apologize, but I stopped any words with my mouth. 

Her lips were just as soft as I remembered. Her tongue danced wildly with my own. I wrapped my arms around her and moaned when I felt her fingers stroke my ass. 




Afterglow Pt. 01



Then I heard cat-whistling and remembered we were in a busy bar with lots of testosterone. A few men gaped at us. The others licked their lips.

I recovered first, pulling Olivia out of there by her hand. 

It was raining hard when we emerged, laughing at the idiots we'd left behind.

Olivia spun around in the rain, circling with her arms stretched out. She let out of a shriek of excitement. "I wish I knew you intended on giving them a show. I would have been more prepared." 

I walked over and kissed her. "Let's go back to your place."

Chapter IV: Happiness is a Warm Gun

We ran up to her bedroom, tearing off each other's rain-soaked clothes on the way. Olivia stopped me in the hallway, dropping to her knees so she could eat me. Her wild tongue swept across my wet flesh, circling against my clit. My fingers clutched her hair as my hips bucked against her face. She laughed when I moaned, and the sensation vibrated against me. I needed more.

"Bed. Let's get to bed," I forced out.

She stood up smirking and wiped her mouth in a deliciously dirty way. I followed her to her bedroom, marveling at the perfection of her perky ass. My own was not as plump as hers. I wanted to shove my face in it and nibble at the sweet skin. 

As if she knew where my thoughts had gone, she gave a little jiggle. "You like my ass, baby?"

I couldn't respond. She dug in her closet and came out with an impressive strap-on. Her face broke out into a gleeful grin. "I'm going to fuck you with this."

She came and pushed my body to the bed. I bounced on top of it, a little nervous about the size of the plastic cock she had in her hands. It had been a long, long time since something other than my own fingers had brought me pleasure. 

Olivia put it on, her eyes never leaving mine. "This vibrates, you know."

My head fell back against the pillow. "Oh, God."

"Mmm. You're going to come for me many times tonight."

She climbed on the bed, kissing my body until her lips matched my own. Then she ran the dildo through the lips of my pussy. I was so turned on that you could hear the wetness as the fake cock moved against me. 

"I'm going to make you wild, my baby."

And just like that, she rammed inside of me. I clutched the bedsheets and screamed. 

"You like that?"

I nodded frantically. 

"Tsk, tsk. I need an answer. Do you like being fucked by another woman?"

"Yes."

She leaned over and kissed my neck, sucking hard. I'd have a hickey for sure.

I rubbed her ass, pulling it closer to me as I bucked up faster. I could sense the volcanic orgasm coming and I couldn't wait for it.

Olivia laughed at me but she increased her speed. Our breasts rubbed against each other, turning us on even more.

She adjusted the vibration speed and I went crazy. It benefitted her, too, and she moaned in connected bursts like a song. She manipulated her hand between us and rubbed my clit. 

"Are you close?" she panted.

I could only nod. 

She bent her head and took my nipple in her mouth. Her tooth ran against it first. Then she sucked it in with one deep, wet breath.

I broke apart with a shaky cry. My body moved mindlessly, pushing the dildo further inside until my pussy couldn't take it any more. I clenched and unclenched countless times. Olivia guided me through it, kissing me with incredible passion. 

Only afterwards did I notice I was crying. Olivia licked the trail of my tear and kissed the tip of my nose.

"Are you worried about the ramifications, now?"

I shook my head and smiled. Sated and content, I had no guilt or misgivings, at least at the moment. I was more interested about getting my tongue between Olivia's thighs.

At first the idea seemed daunting. I had zero experience going down on another woman. I knew Olivia was experienced, and I didn't want to disappoint her.

But now my own selfish need to get a taste of her outweighed any performance anxiety.

I gently pushed at Olivia until she collapsed beside me. I followed her mouth, giggling between each kiss.

"An orgasm does you well, Elizabeth." 

I yanked the strap-on off her. "Oh? And does it do the same for you?"

For the first time since I met her, Olivia looked a touch afraid. "You don't have to—"

"I want to. I'm gonna eat your pussy so good that I'm gonna make you weep."

Where these words of mine came from, I didn't know, nor did I care.

She pinched my nipples. "Kiss me."

I gave her a long kiss, but my hunger to make her come eventually won out. 

My lips skimmed down her body. I gave her nipples long circling licks. My fingers replaced my tongue, tweaking her nipples with increased force, as I moved my mouth lower and lower.

Once my head was above her pussy, I gave her thigh an openmouthed kiss.

"Stop torturing me," Olivia begged. 

But I didn't feel like it. Sex with Olivia had given me a newfound sense of confidence. I felt like a sex goddess, like my orgasm had literally set fire to my soul. Plus it was nice to be the one in control for once. 

So I decided to toy with her. I stroked her with my fingers. The faint touch made her gasp.

"Elizab—, Elizabeth. Please. P-lease."

"Mmm," I hummed against her clit. 

She started begging in different languages. I wanted to play with her more, but my own urges made it impossible not to push my tongue inside of her.

One hand pulled at her nipple. I decided to fuck her with my fingers, so I stuffed three inside her wetness and laughed when she screamed. When I sensed she was close, I lapped at her clit. 

"I'm coming. I'm, I"m coming!" As she lost her mind, I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked. 

It took her a good while to come down. When she was too sensitive, she pulled my hair. I grinned and moved up to fall next to her. She dragged my body closer and gave me a slow, luxurious, toe-curling kiss.

00000

We spent the rest of the night giving each other sleepy kisses and watching silly TV shows. I called my neighbor and begged him to go over and walk Toronto.

I'd felt a happiness I'd forgotten existed, if I indeed ever had a taste of it. We didn't talk much. It was unnecessary.

Morning came. I was confused upon waking up in an unknown place. Then my eyes fell on Olivia's sleeping body. I slapped my hand over my mouth so I wouldn't shriek. It was like I was drunk last night. I did things I never imagined doing in a million years. With a woman. 

My eyes traced her body and I decided I wouldn't mind doing it all again. I kissed her shoulder until she slowly awoke. She kept her head still, but those eyes slid me way.

"Give me a kiss if you're gonna rudely wake me up."

I pressed my lips against hers, laughing through the kiss. 

"Is it time to go to work?"

My heart stopped. I had no idea what time it was. I jumped out of bed and picked up my cell phone. It was nearly 9:30!

"Shit!"

"Elizabeth, calm down. You can go in late. It's fine!"

I hopped around, trying to get my clothes on as fast as I could. "I'm preparing for court tomorrow, shit shit shit! And I need to go walk my dog. Fuck, why won't these fucking pantyhose get the fuck up my—"

"I'll make you coffee." She stood and didn't bother covering herself. "And you can call your neighbor and ask him to take care of Ontario."

"Toronto," I corrected.

Olivia smiled. "I'm sure he won't mind doing you another favor."

Her accent calmed me. I took a deep breath and couldn't help but take in her nakedness. There were a few hickeys on her breasts, thanks to me. And that ass really was too much. 

She smirked when she caught me checking her out. "Silly girl. I thought you were going to work!"

She turned and ran down the steps, laughing at me.

I washed my face and analyzed myself in the mirror. I had sex with a woman and it wasn't half as awkward as I anticipated it to be.

I liked it.

No, I loved it. 

I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face.

00000

Jacqueline pounced on me the minute I got into work.

I'd borrowed one of Olivia's dresses, but it was too snug in the bust area. I hoped my sweater would help cover it up. Of course Jacqueline noticed.

"Where on earth did you get that dress from?"

"It's new."

She touched the hem. "It's a little too tight."

I waved my arm. "Whatever, maybe I'll return it."

"You're in a bad mood today. It's no biggie you're late. I came in late yesterday, actually."

I flipped through my paperwork. I was flustered and exhausted, but every now and then my lips would smile so wide my cheeks hurt. 

Jacqueline noticed this, too.

"You got laid! Didn't you?" My neck snapped in her direction and my eyes bulged. "You did!"

Jackie slid her chair over to my desk. "Tell me all the details. Immediately."

Luckily Robert came over, asking Jackie for a form she had to fill out for him. His snake eyes took me in, and unfortunately for me, he was even more observant than Jackie was.

He leaned over and murmured, "So, is it weird for you to be in charge of the lesbo case? Considering your own proclivities, I mean."

"Is it weird for you to have to work beside Roger day in and day out?"

Jackie coughed, poorly covering up a snort. 

Robert's eyes widened but he bent closer to me. "You bitch."

"Keep digging your own grave, asshole."

He ripped the form out of Jacqueline's hand and stomped off to his desk.

Jacqueline thankfully didn't ask me any more about my apparent afterglow, or about the scene she just witnessed. Sometimes she was a good friend. 

And anyway, we were all dreadfully busy and any "glow" I might have had turned to the flush of exertion.

I walked out of work two hours later than planned. Olivia texted me she'd be waiting at the pub we went to the night before. The thought of Olivia sitting there in a swanky dress, of us likely repeating what happened the night before, gave me just enough energy to make it to the bar. 

I caught sight of her and began making my way over. Something curled around my upper arm and squeezed. A hand, I realized, stopping short. I spun around to see what asshole was touching me. He was a head taller than me, with hair that curled at his collar. An Average Joe. 

The man's face contorted into a creepy smile. I tried to shake him off but he wouldn't lessen his grasp. 

"Ms. Elizabeth Quilty?"

"Can I help you?" I ripped my arm out of his grasp and tried to take a step back. His hand went back around my forearm. "Stop touching—"

"You're the attorney, correct?"

I took a moment to look him over. He definitely looked familiar. 

"Who are you?"

When he smiled, I inexplicably shivered. He was a very good-looking man who exuded the all-American, boy-next-door type. Yet he made my skin crawl.

"We have a mutual friend."

"If you don't let me—"

"Say hi to Rose for me when you see her next. Don't want the pesty police getting their panties all in a bunch."

My breath caught. "Dan?"

"Rose's boyfriend, yeah. Nice to meet you."

I tried to yank my arm away from him but he wouldn't release me. "Let me go!"

A beefy guy turned to look at us. I was about to scream for his help when I felt something hard poking me in the side.

"Feel that? My gun in your ribs?"

"You're making a big mistake. I have witnesses here."

"Oh? No one is paying attention. The only guy who's mildly interested can't even see me."

"I'm going to tear you apart in court."

"I see you're a lot like Rose."

"Excuse me?"

"You like girls, too. It's cute, really. My fantasy come to life."

I shook and tried to move away from him but yet again, his grip was too tight.

"I'm just here to warn you. Nothing is gonna come between me and Rose. Not some used up twat, and not some cunt of a lawyer. Do you understand?"

"You're not going to get away with this."

The pressure of his gun disappeared. I noticed he wasn't holding me anymore, so I turned around to face him. But he was gone.

Completely gone. 

He had completely vanished and he was right: there wasn't anything I could do.



Afterglow Pt. 02



I'm not John Grisham, and I'm not a lawyer, but I did my best. And I've made some edits thanks to some wonderfully observant and knowledgeable readers. Thanks.

OOOOO

Chapter V: Let's Explode

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Steve?"

Steve—my best contact on the police force and a very good friend—shrugged and shook his head sympathetically.

"It's a federal offense. I highly advise you to let me file the charge and get him him arrested."

"I'll lose the case," I said, more like a question.

He nodded. "You'll lose the case. If you file a restraining order, or make a formal complaint, the judge will make you hand over the case to someone else. You'll be considered too biased and involved, and you know that, and they'll consider it too dangerous. They'll likely dismiss your charge against him if you give them a fight. You have no witnesses. They might think you're drumming up drama to make the judge prejudicial." He sighed and rubbed his face, clearly exhausted.

"Why would I make something like that up?! I could be disbarred if they found out I was lying. He threatened me! Stuck a gun in my ribs! And you're telling me that if I make a complaint, I'll lose the case? How the fuck can he get away with this? This should automatically put him behind bars."

He got up from the table and glanced out of the window of his office, watching the chaos of different criminals getting booked. "He doesn't have to get away with this. I already told you what I'd do if I were you. I'd drop the case and file a restraining order, and let me arrest him." He glanced at me over his shoulder. "C'mon, Liz. Let someone else handle this one."

"Oh, like someone stronger. You mean a man?" I sneered. Steve shot me a dirty look. "I can't drop the case, Steve. That's what the little shit wants."

"Better to be safe than sorry. This is a nasty one and he's not going to stop, unfortunately. Seen too many like him."

I sighed and rested my elbows on the table, dropping my head into my hands. "If I let this case go, it'll ruin my career. Roger will never give me a case like this ever again. I'll spin my wheels for eternity. They'll think I'm being dramatic, weak. They'll never trust me with something like this again."

Steve came over and put his hand on my shoulder. "If you let this go, you might not have a career either way."

I slammed my hand on the table. "Fuck! I'm not letting him win. This is such bullshit. Maybe if I explain to Roger..."

But I knew I couldn't do that. As much as I respected Roger, and as much as I suspected he respected me, his view of me would change somehow. I wouldn't be the girl who fought tooth and nail to be viewed equal and tough. I would be the little girl crying to her father.

"Whatever you decide to do, call me day or night. You've got my cell. I'll put a cop on your block, okay?"

"Okay." I thought of Olivia, who'd been so worried and held me as I shook in the bathroom of the bar. "Can you put one on the block of my...friend?"

Steve's smile was slow and kind. "Sure."

OOOOO

It was nearly ten by the time I got down to the subway. I waited anxiously, desperate for a hot shower and my soft bed. And seeing Toronto was always a mood lifter.

I couldn't stop looking over my shoulder, or analyzing men who got too close. Especially when I couldn't make out their faces. Something about being stuck in this filthy, piss-stinking narrow space was putting me on edge. Was that asshole somewhere nearby? Did he know I went to the cops? I shuddered.

A train on the other side of the tracks whizzed by, deafening and fast. I took a step back and my heel wobbled. I was off kilter, and I felt incredibly vulnerable. Exposed. Violated.

I tried to focus on the intricate piece of graffiti on the cement pole next to me, but it was a swirl of expressions like "glory" "liberty" "pussies more more pussies". I recognized a few gang references and it only served to make my goosebumps raise higher from my body, almost painfully. I rested against the pole and closed my eyes.

A guy's elbow knocked against mine. I looked over at him and he was staring, a little creepy smile curving his lips. His teeth were yellow and he smelled heavily of cigarette smoke.

Really, this wasn't too strange an occurrence. But tonight I took about ten large steps away and pulled out my cell, eager to do something other than panic. We were all so lulled into a strange and false security that, if we had our cell on us and pretended to be invested on whatever was on the screen, we were safe.

I had a dozen texts from Olivia, all different variations of her asking if I was okay.

And of course I had a missed call from my mother.

My train noisily pulled up and I rushed on, sitting in a corner seat and balling my body up as tightly as I could. My tough exterior was blown. I felt very much like a child, lost in the sea of the faceless citizens of New York. I was nothing to them; they were nothing to me. A homeless man lay spread out against a few seats and a couple of asses were giving him a hard time, poking him and calling him names. I didn't want to intervene. That was what growing up here taught me, and my experiences as a woman showed me. Don't fucking intervene, because they'll move on to you next and they'll almost always be stronger than you.

But I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand looking at this subtle but cruel torture.

"You pay to get on here, asshole?" one of them was asking.

Another was unzipping his pants. "You know, I feel like taking a piss right here."

"Get away from him," I said. I desperately hoped I sounded strong. In charge. "And you whip it out and you and your little friend will be behind bars for indecent exposure.

The group of guys turned around slowly, scrutinizing me top to bottom, bottom to top. The leering began. They moved over like snakes; it was a wonder they weren't hissing.

One of them scoffed. "You a cop or something, bitch?"

The man they were antagonizing gathered up his sweaters and other junk, averted his eyes and swiftly ran off to another car. I was left alone, facing men who'd just love to fuck with me. The few other people on the subway with us stared straight ahead, or studied their iPhones and probably increased the volumes of their music or podcasts.

The train vibrated and then jerked to a stop. It wasn't mine, but it was a good part of town and a glimpse out the window assured me the area of people waiting was crowded. It wouldn't stop them if they were inclined to do something to me, but it might make it harder on them.

I shook as I hopped down, nearly twisting my heel in the process. I heard them laughing behind me.

They stayed on.

"Bitch," they hissed.

Their hisses followed me all the way home.

OOOOO

I woke to my alarm the next morning. I couldn't believe I had to go to court, to face this asshole who thought he had the right to infringe on my fucking personal space with a gun. That he thought he was entitled to beating the teeth out of his girlfriend because she somehow belonged to him.

The fury was probably a good thing for me to hold onto, because truth be told I was scared. I shook as I put on my suit, sent off a scattered text to Olivia and a more reassuring one to my mother. I was terrified of seeing him again, and devastated I was giving him such power over me.

So I bought my coffee down at the corner and buried my fear deep inside with every strong sip.

Rose and Felicity were milling about the hallway. Both of their faces were tired and swollen. A lot of crying and tossing and turning must have happened the night before.

I took Rose's hand. "It's going to be okay. Just go sit inside; I'll be there in a minute."

I sat on a bench and shut my eyes, letting my head rest on the wall, and called upon the strength I'd built years ago school. I was a tough bitch, I kept telling myself, but all I kept remembering was how powerless I'd felt in that bar. Even with Steve, in the police station where I should have felt safe, I felt like a voice not heard.

"Ms. Quilty," someone drawled above me.

My eyes fluttered open and I fought the scowl that often twisted across my face whenever I was confronted with Landon Fontaine. What a name, I always thought, but it suited him. Ostentatious, wealthy-sounding, strong.

He was a dirty lawyer who fought hard and almost always won. Being that he was from the swampy south somewhere, his accent was thick and slow and downright soothing. He was all politeness all the time, and all gentlemanlike in court. Most of the judges ate him right up and granted him unfair leniencies. Forget the string of women he'd divorced or destroyed in his past, the men he'd ruined with a mere whisper, the predatory gleam in his eyes whenever he spoke with you, or how he collected secrets and packed them all into his back pockets, eager for a chance to blackmail someone with them. He was the star of the New York legal system, really. If a defendant had any kind of money, he or she sniffed around Fontaine's firm.

Because court—or politics—really wasn't about the law anymore. Wrong, right, justified, unjustified were just terms flung around for the sake of it. That wasn't to say all criminal cases were treated this way. The high-profile ones were the groundwork that legacies were built on. Think of George Zimmerman, Casey Anthony, or even as far back as OJ Simpson. It was a show, a sensationalist way for everyone with even the teeniest bit of power to strut their feathers. Anchormen and women shared horrific details of the cases with you through the TV screen, and even you weren't able to look away.

Landon knew this. So, his suits were from the best designers, finely tailored and pressed. He was good looking in an aristocratic sort of way. He reminded me of a younger Robert Redford. He had a face you could trust, a firm handshake and the ability to fit into any crowd. His jokes were raunchy but never out of line. He even made me smile on occasion, he was that charming, and I hated him for the loathsome turd he was.

Because I had seen what he could do in the courtroom. He could make a rape victim shatter and regret the day he or she was born. He could confuse a man perhaps not as smart as he. Women were sluts. Men were jealous. His opinions changed as frequently as he changed his suit.

Landon could hardly contain his glee when children were witnesses. When he cross-examined them in the courtroom, even his most loyal supporters shifted uncomfortably. Landon didn't shout when he spoke to the children. He spoke perhaps softer than he did to anyone else. And he was very careful about his movements. If someone put you on the spot, you couldn't say he appeared to be intimidating. But you knew it in your bones, because it was in his eyes. It was in the words he used. It was written all over the way he walked around, or the smirks he tossed to the jury whenever the kids made a mistake.

You knew in that instant he was a slime.

But some people had shorter memories than others, and when the case was all said and done and he had more money in the pockets of his new suits, his friends congratulated him and forgot all about how he sent those children off into crying jags that lasted weeks.

So I looked up at him now, brewing with the familiar hatred I knew well. I clutched at that hatred desperately, refusing to be intimidated or scared anymore—for at least the rest of the day. I didn't bother standing, pretending we were on equal footing, because we wouldn't be.

"Nice to see you, Mr. Fontaine."

He scoffed and looked away from me, watching people milling about down the hallway. "You never think it's nice to see me. Lying so early in the morning, sweetheart?"

I sighed and picked up my briefcase. "Are you approaching me with some kind of plea?"

Landon threw his head back and laughed. "You're a corker, Liz." His smiling face moved closer to me and he slapped a hand on my shoulder. "A corker."

"You know the evidence. Filthy panties. Nasty letters. Threatening voicemails."

One side of his mouth turned up as he opened the door to the courtroom. His other hand gestured for me to go first. I went inside, inhaling the familiar scent of leather and dust.

"Lovers' spats. That's what all that boils down to."

I glared at him. "You're kidding me right now, Landon."

He threw his briefcase on his table and straightened the tie around his neck that probably cost more than 6 months' worth of my rent. "No, this isn't a laughing matter, Elizabeth." When I continued staring at him, he shook his head. "Probably a bad time to ask this, but do you ever loosen up?"

"Bad time to ask this, but do you ever take a good look at yourself in the mirror? Or are you too busy kissing your reflection?"

"Liz?" someone called.

I looked over my shoulder and spotted Rose and Felicity waiting for me anxiously.

"What you are is a hater of men, Ms. Quilty."

Landon said it as though he were joking, but we both knew he wasn't. And what kind of joke would that be, anyway? It was out of line, however you phrased it.

"Why? Because I go after shits like your client?"

He laughed. "I'm just kidding you, of course. I know you are an unbiased, faithful representative of the law. Truly a beacon of what young lawyers should be today. But, I merely heard you have the same proclivities of those women over there. Well, at least one of those women. I still stand by my client's belief that Rose is merely experimenting, trying to get back at him."

"Where the hell did you hear that?" I swallowed hard. This was out of my league, undoubtedly, but I couldn't back away. They knew. That would explain my nasty experience with his client.

At that moment exactly, Dan Tierney appeared beside Landon in an almost identical suit. He was handsome, no doubt of that, and he had the same ability to pretend he was a kind, feeling, sympathetic human being that Landon did. I just happened to have the ability to see through the both of them.

"Ms. Quilty," Dan greeted, bowing his head. He was mostly expressionless, but I caught the perverse amusement in his eyes. I couldn't wait to hammer his skull into the ground.

I turned away from both men, the sight of them making me ill, and went over to Rose.

"Everything is going to be okay. Remember, this is just the indictment part. The judge goes over some of the evidence and decides if we go on to trial. Of course we will, with the stuff we have here, okay? It's just protocol."

Rose sat next to Felicity. When I turned I noticed Dan staring at her. His eyes swept to me and when he saw I caught him, a small smile curved his lips.

The judge entered and everyone stood. We went through the usual and everything was going according to plan before Landon's evidence exploded the courtroom.

The judge—Samuel Frank—read over the contents Landon handed him and tutted.

Then his fiery eyes met mine. "Why are you wasting my time with this, Mr. Fontaine?"

"I have no idea what he just handed you, Your Honor, but—"

"He handed me something in direct rebuttal of what you just presented. Approach the bench, please."

Landon strode up, cocky and as pleased as a pig rolled in shit. I followed, feeling in the pit of my stomach something horrible was about to happen.

And I was right. The judge handed me letters—at least a dozen—sent by Rose. Definitely her handwriting, I noticed right away. And they were written as passionately and violently as Dan's. Perhaps slightly worse. She didn't threaten his death, or imagine his body in pieces. No. She wrote about him doing all that to her.

"There are no dates on these. Perhaps—"

"And there's more, Your Honor," Landon interrupted. "More than what we have here. I think it's clear here what happened. These two have a volatile relationship and Ms. Sherman is using half of the truth to manipulate and injure my client. His reputation, his—"

"What about his intrusion into her apartment? The threatening voicemails? The panties filled with his semen!" I'd gotten a bit hysterical and Samuel Frank gave me a quelling look.

"Well, they always had an interesting relationship!" Landon exclaimed, gesticulating wildly as if he were on stage. "I have pictures and videos and letters in my possession that will lay claim to their unique tastes in the bedroom. My client's seminal fluid in Ms. Sherman's underwear is not the most unusual thing the couple has done." He whistled. "No, sir. Not by a long shot." He got closer to the judge. "Not to mention Rose Sherman's... lover has left some interesting messages for my client, as well. Quite threatening. Most involving castration of some kind. Shall we have a listen?"

"We're not on trial yet, Mr. Fontaine. I suggest you collect yourself, though your passion is duly noted."

Judge Frank stared at me long and hard. He was one of the few judges who rarely put up with Landon's crap. He knew what he had in front of him, but he knew what my case also lacked. I didn't have the appropriate rebuttals, disproving or disputing the concrete evidence in the slime ball's possession.

"Ms. Quilty, do you have anything in your files right now that can discredit what Mr. Fontaine has described? In other words, if I were to ask Ms. Sherman questions about the information Mr. Fontaine provided me, under oath, would she be able to refute some of these claims?"

I felt like I could faint. For the first time in my life, I thought I might. Blood was rushing in my ears, louder than the sound of the subway speeding past, and coldness engulfed my chest and stomach.

"No," I whispered.

Judge Frank shook his head at me. "I'm surprised you've come into my courtroom today with such a lack of evidence and a disregard for research. I'm left with no other choice but to dismiss the charges at this time. I can't indict the defendant with this mess." He shuffled some papers but then looked back up at me, pointing his finger. "Come back to me when you have all your business in order." Then he glanced over at Landon, who was already grinning and backing up to his client. "And Mr. Fontaine?"

He stopped and his grin turned into a respectful smile. "Yes, Your Honor?"

"I think it reprehensible you didn't provide the prosecution with your evidence before we got here today. Clearly she wouldn't have proceeded, but then I guess you wouldn't have had your chance to shine and lord your expertise over us. Next time why don't you lead with professionalism rather than vanity?" He stood and nodded at Landon. "Also, the restraining order still stands. And your client will return to jail for a month for the first violation of Ms. Sherman's protective order. Get your client in order, Counselor, or I will see fit that the law will."

OOOOO

Rose and Felicity followed me out of the courtroom, asking me thousands of questions. I hardly heard them. I headed for the closest bar I could find, sat on a stool and ordered straight vodka. Felicity shook my arm.

"Hello?! Don't you think we deserve an explanation?"

"We'll try again," I muttered, thanking God the bartender had already returned with my drink. "And at least he's off the streets for a month."

Rose also shook me. "How can you sit there so fucking calm? He's going to kill me!"

I swung around and looked at them both. "You didn't provide me with the entire picture."

Both women looked utterly confused.

"Were you engaged in some S&M relationship with Dan?"

Rose jolted back as if I slapped her. "W-what?"

"He has pictures from your time together. Letters you wrote yourself, asking to be choked and cut and raped. Voicemails Felicity left. I don't know the contents, or if Landon was bluffing, but all that shit alone was enough for the judge to dismiss my request to indict. We can try again, and we will, but don't ever fucking withhold shit like that again. Because courts find out, and shitballs like Fontaine hunts shit like this down."




Afterglow Pt. 02



The woman sat on the stools to the right of me and ordered their own drinks.

"Sorry," Rose whispered after a while. "I was embarrassed. I never... n-never thought it would come out. That he would keep them." She gulped some of her drink down and then met my eyes with her tear-filled ones. "Things were so good in the beginning, Liz. Then he just turned and I was so lost and... He made me write those letters. And we were together, and it got him off and made him happy and I didn't think anything of it." She scoffed. "Well, I did. I hated it. I thought it was weird. I wanted to break up with him long before I did because of it. But still I just thought it was fantasy." She shuddered. "Now...now I think it's more than a fantasy."

I put my arm around her and squeezed her closer. "We'll get him. One way or the other."

"The other way might mean us dying," Felicity cut in, her eyes fierce.

"Let's try to be a little more positive," I muttered and proceeded to finish three vodkas in under a half hour.

OOOOO

Something was licking me.

"Toronto," I muttered sleepily. "Stop. I'll take you out in a minute."

The lapping continued up my leg. Then hot breath blew against the thin fabric of my panties and my eyes popped open.

Olivia's naked body rested between my spread legs, that beautiful smile spread across her face. "Good Morning."

"How the... What—How can you—"

"Your neighbor let me in. Guess I don't look particularly suspicious." Her attention drifted back to my wet panties and her voice lowered. "Little does he know."

"Olivia, I can't right now. I have to"—I checked the clock—"get to work in an hour and a half."

Olivia didn't bother glancing up. "Plenty of time for me to feast."

"No, there isn't."

"God, I'm so thrilled you're wearing white panties. I can see how wet and pink you are underneath and the fabric is so wet and—God. Makes me so hungry for you, baby. And I've been so hungry lately."

"Olivia, I'm serious! I have to show and—oh!"

She gave my panties an open-mouthed kiss with a damp flick of her tongue against my clothed clit. My thighs automatically tightened to move her head in further, and the erotic feeling of her smooth hair against the silkiness of my legs made the gesture even more erotic.

Her eyes flicked up to mine as she slipped her index finger into the side of the panties and bared a small portion of my dripping pussy to her hungry eyes. I must've looked dazed with lust and wonder because she let out a throaty laugh that vibrated up from my pussy through my spine.

"I'm going to eat you out so good, baby. You're going to be boneless for the rest of the day. You need this. You need my tongue. You need the pleasure it'll give you. And," she smiled, "you need to relax."

I saw no need to fight with her and rested back on the pillow, sighing when I felt her drag my panties down my legs. They got caught around one ankle and she ripped them away, impatient and apparently as needy as I was at the moment.

I thought she'd tease me. A lick here, a nudge there and a suck when she was feeling particularly charitable. But no. She was insatiable. She dug her mouth into my pussy, alternately running her tongue up my lips and flicking her tongue against my clit, which felt like fierce vibration.

I was going to come. It was there already, building up from my stomach and through my chest. I was screaming, pulling her hair and shoving her closer to my desperate aching. My cunt was wetter than I could believe; her mouth slid against it effortlessly. She drank from me, greedy and thirsty.

Her wild moans made the pleasure unbearable for me. I couldn't take it. My head tossed back and forth in an helpless display of overwhelmed orgasmic delight.

"I'm going to come," I wept.

Just like that she was gone. My pussy contracted wistfully.

"Where are you—"

"Hush," she whispered. She climbed up next to me and then her head turned, baring a bright and excited smile. "Sit on my face."

I'd dreamt of that. Many times. I'd never even done it with a man. I was afraid to sit like that, to bare it all, to be in so much control and to be so obviously wanton and slutty. But Olivia wanted it and her tugging hands were pulling me closer, convincing me all the more. I took a deep breath and moved over her.

It was awkward at first. My knee bumped her nose.

"Shit, sorry!"

She laughed and shook her head. "Sink that pussy on my face."

I lowered my hips until I felt her hot, damp breath blowing against my flesh in bursts. My thighs were on either side of her head, pressed against her ears. I stared at her, her face upside down, and rested my shaky body against the headboard. Her hair was scattered all over and she was flushed and so, so sexy.

I wasn't down all the way. She wouldn't stand for my hesitation, and instead slipped out her long tongue and sent it on a long, deliberate lick.

Moaning and shuddering, my body mindlessly ground against her mouth. Sunlight filtered into the room through my blinds and illuminated her face. I could see my juices all over her chin, and even her nose, and I became nothing but a woman eager to come by her lover's tongue.

I began to ride her face. She made a sound of pleasure and it sent fire up my spine. My pace increased and I became wild, fucking her face. My hair thrashed around, sometimes sticking to my open mouth. Her tongue shoved itself into my pussy, the soaked tastebuds running roughly against my smooth, wet walls.

"Oh, God," I chanted over and over again.

Olivia turned her attention back to my clit, slurping it inside her mouth and alternately sucking and flipping it. Suddenly three of her slender fingers were working themselves into my tight hole. Realizing what she intended to do, my head flung back and I cried out.

"Play with your nipples," she mumbled into my flesh. "Want you to come."

So I did as she asked. My hips sped up as her fingers and tongue did. I delighted in being fucked by her like this, and once I started pinching my nipples I knew an amazing orgasm was careening fast towards me.

I wasn't wrong. Her tongue bathed my clit while her fingers fucked me roughly. I let out a high-pitched whine that only grew higher as the threat of orgasm rose and flooded over.

"Olivia!"

My knuckles were white while I held onto the headboard for dear life. She continued fucking me through the most intense orgasm I'd ever had. The wet sound of her fingers moving through my pussy sharpened the pleasure and I bit my lip, resting my head against the wood.

When I lifted my hips and adjusted them away, she got the hint I couldn't bear anymore tortuous pleasure. I heard and felt her panting.

When I'd regained enough breath for what I intended to do next, I dragged my body down hers. Our nipples rubbed against one another and we both closed our eyes at the sensation. I remembered what my plan was, however, and I refused to be sidetracked.

I lifted my tit up to her smaller one and let my nipple run against the hardness of her own. Her eyes fluttered open and her eyes bore into mine. I strained my neck so I could lick both our nipples at once. Olivia said something in another language, something that sounded absolutely like a curse.

Her cheeks were blushed beneath her olive skin. Her eyes were shiny and desperate. Her chest was flushed, and those nipples... those raspberry-colored nipples so bright against the coffee of her flesh... I'd devour them all day if I had the time.

But I didn't have the time, at least not today.

"I have to rush this. I'm sorry I can't give you the time you deserve. I wish we had more time."

"Shut up," Olivia rasped, her lips still wet from my cum. "Rush all you want. I'm nearly there. Don't stop."

Funny how sex brought her accent out more. It was hypnotizing, the sound of her voice.

I slipped a few fingers inside her. My mouth dropped when I found how wet she was. It shouldn't have been surprising, for she was clearly a sexual woman, but the fact that bringing me to orgasm was enough to do this to her was both humbling and fuckhot.

She writhed below me, fucking my fingers. I tutted and moved them out. "It's my turn to make you crazy."

"Fuck, you already have! Just make me come!"

I leant down to her face and kissed her, tasting myself on her tongue. Then I whispered, "So bossy," into her mouth. I returned my tongue to her clit.

My fingers plunged in and out. I curved them a little, remembering porn videos I'd seen before with other boyfriends, boyfriends who obviously didn't take the notes I did. Seeing the electricity zing through Olivia's body told me I found her spot.

She caught me grinning like a smug bitch and distractedly gave me the finger.

I prodded at that spot, my fingers thrusting relentlessly inside her. She screamed and begged and wept over and over until suddenly her entire body seized and she grunted, releasing all over my tongue.

I was winded and took my time catching my breath, leaning back on my heels to stare at her blushing body. Her pussy was pink and shimmering. I'd eat her all day if I could. I recalled the last thought I had after we had sex—that I'd loved it.

Then it dawned on me how ridiculous this all was. When the hell did I become a pussy-greedy lesbian?

"Uh, oh," Olivia whispered.

I glanced back at her. "What?"

"You're freaking out again."

"Am not."

She tried to fight a smile and failed. She sat up and moved herself next me, her arm touching mine. "It's okay to be scared. I don't mind. It's scary for me, too. And I know this is new for you, and I know how busy you are. And I'm sorry I haven't been able to take you out on a good date, yet. A date you know for sure is a date from the start. Not like last time. That might help clarify things for you. And I don't want you to keep doing stuff only to regret it later."

"I don't regret this, Olivia. I loved it. Really. It was the best sex I ever had. I'm just... It's just so weird for me."

"Was my tongue inside of you weird?" She stuck her tongue in her cheek and gave me a wicked smile.

I laughed. "Yes and no! I don't know!"

She bent one of legs at the knee and turned so that I could get a glimpse of her stretched pussy. "Which do you like better? My pussy or my tongue?"

"Both," I murmured, fascinated when she scooped up a bit of her wetness and slipped her finger into my mouth.

"I don't have the answers for you, darling, but we can figure it out together when you get through this case. There is no rush."

My mood sobered. "I have you tailed by cops, okay? That monster knows about you."

"And you? Are you protected?"

"Yes, of course I am."

She nodded and ran a hand down my goosebumped side. "Obviously you're dropping the case."

It wasn't a question.

"No. I'm seeing it through. I refuse to be intimidated."

I expected her to fight me on it, but she merely nodded and squeezed my hand.

"I'm just really worried about you," I admitted. "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this mess."

Olivia stood and moved to look down at me. My eyes followed the length of her body. Her smile was soft and knowing. "I can take care of myself."

She did look powerful, all bronzed feminine authority. She was the embodiment of sexuality, but there was a calming, nurturing side of her, too. Madonna-Whore, Jackie O-Marilyn. I had no doubt she'd fight the shit out of Dan if she were ever faced with him, but I was terrified at the possibility of him winning.

"All the same."

"I have a gun, you know. Several. Does that shock you?"

"What? You have guns?" My eyes popped open. "Are they legal?"

Olivia giggled and leant over to give me a quick peck on the lips.

"Yes. And I even know how to shoot them, too."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

She cupped my cheek. "Poor baby. Maybe we'll go on a vacation when you're done. After you accept you want this and that little guilt stops sneaking in."

"I don't feel guilty!"

She glanced at the clock and then looked back at me, her smile even sweeter. She stroked a piece of my hair and slipped it behind my ear.

"You need to get to work."

I got up, letting my bare body run up against hers. "I don't regret this. And I'm sorry but I'm probably going to have a few more freak-outs before I get used to this. I want you to know, though, that I like you. I like this. It's important to me, and so are you. Okay?"

She answered me with a kiss that scattered all of my overly-analytical thoughts. This is why I cared for her; she made me remember to feel. To live. To enjoy. To touch.

Maybe our little affair was distracting me. The little spectacle in court was certainly humiliating, and perhaps I might have been more diligent in my research if I wasn't so busy freaking out over my sexual identity.

Yet at the same time I think it was getting me in touch with emotions (sounds lame, I know) that I'd buried or pushed to the side in order to come off as a razor tough bitch in the courtroom. The softer side of myself had been dormant for too long. It could help me in this case. It could light the fire under my ass and give me the disgust and determination to whop Fontaine's dick in court. And get Dan Tierney in prison, where he could never torment another girl.

When Olivia pulled away from our kiss and looked at me like that—all gauzy and fuzzy and warm—I decided she was good for me in so many ways and I had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

OOOOO

I was thanking God it was Friday when I decided to go check in with Daniel Tierney's mother. I'd wanted to before meeting with the judge, but I didn't have the time and I figured I had plenty of evidence without her to indict. Apparently not. At least now I'd have the weekend to go over whatever I could glean from her.

She lived in the suburbs in a shabbily painted house. Parts of the wood siding had fallen off, and the grass was obscenely overgrown. It was freezing when I hopped out of the cab. I handed the driver a bunch of twenties and asked him to wait for me. He grunted and pocketed the cash.

Two cats paced Mrs. Tierney's grass, watching me suspiciously as I approached the rickety porch steps. The front door was open behind the screen door, but I couldn't see anything inside. I pressed the doorbell button but there was no sound.

"Mrs. Tierney?" I called out. "Mrs. Tierney, are you in there?"

A flock of birds burst from some nearby naked trees and I shuddered. I knocked harder on the house. "Mrs. Tierney! It's Elizabeth Quilty from the District Attorney's office and I'd like to—"

"I know who you are," a voice said behind me.

I jumped and spun around, spotting an elderly woman at the bottom of the steps. She was bundled in a winter jacket and wore gloves, but she was covered in dirt. I realized then she was holding a mud-encrusted spade and deduced she'd been gardening. Apparently it didn't bother her that it looked like it might snow at any minute.

"Guess you want to come inside," she muttered, stomping up the stairs with a bad limp and pushing past me. The screen door slammed behind her.

Tentatively I followed her into the musty, faded household. Old pictures were nailed up on the wall against worn floral wallpaper. I thought I spotted a younger Dan Tierney in a few of them. A creepy crucifix hung next to them, and I felt the tortured Jesus staring me as I rushed by.

"Tea or coffee?" she called

"Tea, please."

Her kitchen was tiny and all green. The linoleum was faded, and the walls were also covered in tragically hideous and ancient wallpaper. The table was wooden and chipped, and the chair I sat in was uneven on one side.

The room was otherwise neat. A kitten peeked in from the hallway and spotted me. She scurried off. Mrs. Tierney had her back to me, running water into the kettle and then putting tea bags into chipped mugs.

"My son's lawyer said you'd be around here at some point."

"Mrs. Tierny, we need to talk about Lorna Stone."

Her back stiffened but her voice remained calm. "I'm sure you've read all you need to know about Lorna Stone."

"You reported him to the police for it, Mrs. Tierney. You knew he was troubled. You knew he was a threat."

She turned around and dusted imaginary dirt off her sweater. "My son enjoys dating mentally unstable women. They had a toxic relationship. That's all."

I gestured to the folder on the table. "Shall I show you the pictures of what he did to the woman he intended on marrying only four years ago? You'll see the same injuries that sent you into the police station asking them to go by his apartment. Have you forgotten?"

His mother glared at me, a tear escaping from one eye. She limped over and sat across from me. "No, that won't be necessary."

"I want to know more about her. Please. Has this kind of behavior of his manifested in other relationships, or did it just start with Lorna?"

His mother wrung her hands. "I don't understand why you need me. Why can't you ask her?"

A pang of sympathy went through my heart. "I'm sorry. She died in a car accident a little over a year ago. We only have her written accounts."

Mrs. Tierney collapsed, dropping her head into her hands. She burst out crying just as the kettle began shrieking. I ran over to turn off the gas and came back, tentatively touching her back.

"She was such a good girl," she said after a while. "I prayed for her every day. And I used to say to Danny all the time, 'Danny, she's a good girl. A good girl for you. Pretty, and she likes you. Why do you do this to her?' and he'd say, 'She just makes me so angry, Mom, and I can't stop.'"

I backed away from her and sat back in my seat. She wasn't crying anymore; now she stared at the manilla folder I'd threatened her with minutes before.

"He was always pushy with girls. I didn't know much, and I didn't want to. I was distracted with my two other sons, and my youngest—my daughter. Danny was always a secretive kid and I lost track of him when... I just didn't know. Didn't want to know."

"Why didn't Lorna Stone press charges? I can't find a reason written anywhere, and none of her friends knew. But you know, don't you?"

Mrs. Tierney stood and went back to the counter to prepare our tea. "Milk and sugar?"

"Please." She fixed our tea and I shifted impatiently in my chair. "Mrs. Tierney, why did she drop the charges?"

She brought the cups over and placed them on the table. Then she took great care as she sat down, and I could tell she was deliberating whether or not to tell the truth.

"He met Rose."

A stone of dread dropped into my stomach. "What?"

"I didn't think he'd ever leave Lorna alone. I begged him. He is such a nice-looking boy. He could have any girl he wanted as long as she wanted him back. But he was obsessed." She swirled a spoon around the surface of her tea. "Then he met Rose. I forget how. Anyway, he thought she was more suited to him or maybe he thought Lorna was a hassle or, I don't know, he just liked Rose better. Who knows. So he stopped bothering Lorna, and he called her one night and told her she'd never hear from him again if she dropped the charges."

"Mrs. Tierney. You know what your son has done to these women. Do you think he should be put away so he can't harm anyone else?"

She inhaled heavily and wiped at her cheeks.

"I think," she began slowly, "that you should leave."

She gathered up our cups and hobbled over to the sink.

"I'll subpoena you, Mrs. Tierney. I have no choice. I know you love your son but you have to stop him. Think of all the girls, all the daughters that have to—"

"I don't want to have to call the police. Please leave."

OOOOO

By the time I made it back to the city, it was lunchtime. Olivia demanded I meet her at this little artsy bistro in Brooklyn and I figured I might as well. The other cases on my desk didn't have any demanding tasks to be done, and my next court date for Daniel Tierney wasn't set for another week. I thought that was more than enough time for me to gather up his sleaze in a way to ensure a trial happened.




Afterglow Pt. 02



And we needed to talk. Badly. We'd slipped in important sentences here and there, hinted at significant themes, but we hadn't discussed what all this meant. Who and what we were to one another was up in the air. It had dawned on me during the drive back from Mrs. Tierney's that I couldn't do this. At least at this moment. I needed to focus on one task, and right now it was this case.

It burned my heart but it seemed like the fair, sensible thing to do on both our parts. She was great for me, absolutely, and almost every time we were together I got high by her presence and completely forgot about my misgivings. It was only when I was away that I could think rationally.

She waited at a table in the corner, reading some frayed novel. Her dress was sage green with pearled straps. She looked hot and sophisticated, which annoyed me. It would make it that much harder for me to say what I needed to.

She didn't notice me pull the chair out across from her and sit. I cleared my throat and she jumped. A smirk crossed my face.

Her eyes narrowed as she put her book away. "Funny."

"Sorry to disturb you. You looked cozy."

Her dark eyes studied my face. "You're tired."

I rubbed my temples. "Yes. This case is horrible."

The waitress came over and I ordered, only realizing then how starved I was.

"I wish I could help make it better."

I gave her a small smile. "You do."

She took my hands and studied my palms. "Did you know my grandmother was a fortune teller?"

My laugh was unexpected and loud. A self-important man typing away on his Mac at the table next to us gave me a nasty look.

"It's true. I, myself, do not possess the talent. But palms fascinate me."

"I think we need to take a break," I slowly breathed. "I like you. Really, I do. You must know that. And I think you're really good for me. You make me happy, loosen me up."

She didn't say anything. She barely reacted. Her eyes traced the embedded lines of my hand.

"But this case is draining me and I have enough going on without worrying about you, or worrying about myself, or going on a neurotic loop of wondering just what the hell I am and if I want this. It's been such a whirlwind and I've barely had a chance to catch my breath." The waitress came over my coffee and I nearly downed the entire mug with one gulp.

Olivia still said nothing.

"I think the reasonable thing to do would be to keep our distance for a while. I really want to be friends. Then maybe when all of this is over we can, like, maybe go on a date or something like a normal couple and take it slow. Slower than we have been. We rushed into this so fast and—"

"Jesus Christ, shut up," Olivia snapped.

My mouth promptly closed.

"All you're doing is whining and making excuses. You are taking this label thing far too seriously, by the way. I understand that you're busy, and am willing to give you space to work and concentrate, but this bullshit about friendship and moving too fast is more than I can stomach."

She stood and tossed some money on the table.

"You either want me, or you don't. I know it's a big change for you but I'm getting older and I lack the patience I once had. I just let it be now, and that's my advice to you. You said I make you happy. Why the fuck would you want to give that up?"

She pulled up the pearled strap of her dress and then wrapped herself in her coat. "You think way too much, Elizabeth. Take a deep breath and think about what you really want." She fished a card out of her purse and thrust it at me. "A friend of mine is having a party tonight. I was going to ask you to be my date. I'm going around 10pm. If you're not there, I guess I'll have my answer as to your intentions for our future."

She swept some of my hair back over my shoulder and kissed my forehead.

She left before I could think of anything to say.

OOOOO

The office was pretty much vacant when I got back. Roger was out on dozens of meetings and Robert thankfully took the rest of the day off. Jacqueline asked if I wanted to get a mani and pedi with her the next day and I found myself grinning at the prospect.

The rest of the day crawled by. I gathered up the best case I could to indict Dan but I knew Landon had something up his sleeve. It wasn't long before he gave me a peek.

I opened my email and there it was.

"Dear Ms. Quilty,

Hope you're enjoying this unseasonably warm winter afternoon.

I discovered your intent to subpoena my client's mother in reference to an unfortunate and private event that occurred in Mr. Tierney's past. Per Judge Frank's request that I disclose certain intentions with you in order to save time, I must inform you that I will be filing a motion to forbid this research into a Ms. Lorna Stone from being admitted into evidence. There were no formal charges pressed, nor were there any court proceedings as a result of Ms. Stone's false accusations. Consequently this information would be prejudicial and should therefore not be allowed in court.

Furthermore, I will once again file a motion to dismiss charges against my client entirely as the state has once again failed to produce substantial evidence that would induce the judge into seriously considering pursuing a criminal trial on such shaky ground.

I write to you and advise you as both a friend and colleague that I think it would be best for your department to drop the charges now, prior to our hearing date. This will spare all parties involved, both from embarrassment and trauma.

Hopefully you will take my advice to heart.

Yours,

Landon Fontaine"

I had two hours left of work, but after rereading the email for the fourth time I decided to take the rest of the day off. I calmly swung my purse over my shoulder, turned off my computer and headed for the subway.

It wasn't until I was back in my apartment that I let out the loudest, hardest scream of frustration and disillusionment. I must have screamed "fuck you!" over and over again, and I may or may not have broken my iPad during my Hulk-like tirade.

He was going to get his way, Landon Fontaine, if I didn't think of something fast. Dan Tierney would be walking through the city, his ego stroked and swollen. He'd go after Rose. He'd find a new target. Or he'd do worse. I just couldn't allow that.

But in that very moment, my head hurt. I had a blinding headache, and my neck and back ached horribly. I swallowed two aspirin and kicked off my shoes. Then I climbed into bed, not bothering to remove my dress.

Of course that was when my mind drifted to Olivia Beringer, my foreign beauty. It was true I was happy when I was with her. She made everything seem so easy. It was like a taste of luxury, of hedonism, of sophistication that I'd never known. She was simultaneously an icon of sex and an emblem of delicate femininity.

I wanted her. I wished she were with me, beside me, stroking my hair and coaxing me into relaxation. She was the first relationship I'd been involved in for years where I felt entirely content with the other person, and where I felt safe.

This fragile, slim, girly artist would tear the heart out of anyone who dared hurt me or anyone else she cared about.

And I was pushing her away.

Those were my last thoughts before drifting off into a deep nap.

OOOOO

I woke up in complete darkness. I had no idea what time it was, where I was. Nothing.

Then slowly my day came back to me and I groaned, rubbing my forehead.

It was 9:27pm. Roughly a half hour before Olivia was due at the party, or at least so she said.

I got up and took a shower, convinced by the time I came out it would be nearly 10 and therefore pointless for me to go.

But when I emerged it was only 9:39 and I had to face the fact I wanted to go, anyway.

So I slipped on a ruby dress with ankle-strapped black heels. I tied my hair up in a tall, fashionable ponytail and put on a great deal of eye makeup to really get that soulful look going on. Why the fuck not, I thought.

I hailed a cab almost immediately and was off to Olivia's friend's apartment.

When I arrived I was impressed by the size of the loft, considering we were in Midtown. This was the setting for a celebrity party; this was definitely not for a bunch of old friends gathering for drinks. Then again Olivia hadn't shared much about who the host was, and considering she was a famous artist, I wouldn't be surprised if I spotted well-known personalities around.

These were her friends. I was awestruck. It struck me how little Olivia and I knew one another, and yet how strange and deep our attraction was.

I texted Olivia that I was there, grabbed a martini and huddled in the corner, waiting for a response.

A half hour passed, and nothing.

I sent another text. Twenty more minutes passed, and I downed another martini. I was about ready to leave when I spotted her.

She wore a gold dress and she, too, had opted to wear her hair up, though her style was an elaborate bun. She was sitting next to a beautiful young blonde whose tits were out. She was gorgeous, of course, because that's just the way the world works. Olivia seemed transfixed, nodding intently at everything Barbie said. Then she threw her head back and laughed—something I thought was special to me—and touched the girl's arm.

I could read the signs. They were going to hookup tonight. Olivia had moved on, given up. She had a life to lead; it wasn't fair of me to ask her to put it on hold so I could determine whether or not I thought I could seek something deeper with her. So I could flip out every time we were intimate.

Mind made up, I put my glass down and tried to slink through people towards the door. Naturally that's when Olivia spotted me. Her face tightened, but then she turned to her friend and forced a smile. They exchanged words and Olivia got up, weaving through the crowd to get to me. Her friend watched me with blatant curiosity.

"You came," Olivia said when she was close enough for me to hear her.

"I texted you."

"Oh."

It was incredibly awkward and I itched for another drink.

"So, are you, like, seeing that girl now?" I asked, cursing my big mouth as soon as the words were out.

Olivia was confused. "What are you talking about?"

I jutted my chin over to the blonde still on the sofa. Olivia followed my gaze and then snorted. When she turned back towards me her brown eyes were lit up with amusement.

"You're jealous!"

I rubbed my shoulder. "No. No, I'm not. No."

She laughed and came closer to me. "You are. It's adorable."

"I'm not jealous!"

Olivia's mouth was suddenly an inch away from mine. "Want to prove to her that I'm yours?"

It was so silly, really, but the words struck a match inside me and without second-guessing myself I closed the gap between us and gave her the best kiss I could muster.

When we pulled away I glanced around nervously, ashamed at our PDA. No one seemed to mind. In fact it seemed like no one even noticed.

Then I looked back at her. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

When she gave me a perplexed look, I went on. "For freaking out, for pushing you away. It's just not fair to you for me to ask you to put your life on hold or invest time in somebody who might end up pulling away, deciding this isn't right for her. You should be fucking Barbie."

"Barbie?" Olivia asked. Then it dawned on her and she snickered. "Her name is Lisa, she's a good friend and straighter than an arrow. And you're a dummy. I want you. I'm willing to take a chance on you, and I promise I'm a big enough girl to know what I'm getting into."

"I'm sorry for what I said at lunch."

Olivia hushed me and stepped closer to give me another sweet kiss.

OOOOO

We left the party early. We stole kisses from the other as we walked the blocks to the subway. While we waited for our train, our kisses turned scorching.

Some people were watching—primarily men—but it didn't seem to bother Olivia, and for some reason I didn't mind it, either. Perhaps it was the martinis. Or maybe I was finally acclimating to the passion and attraction I had for this woman.

Olivia grew impatient and brought me over to a corner, behind a graffitied cement column. We were entirely out of view of spectators and it was such an erotic thrill to be so close to people and be so physically close to Olivia. I expected us to make out a little more heavily, perhaps run each other's hands beneath the other's dress. What I didn't expect was Olivia dropping down to her knees with an evil smile.

"What are you doing?" I asked, excited and breathless and fucking terrified.

She pulled up the bottom of my skirt before I could stop her and smiled when she saw my frilly black undies.

"You intended on wooing me away from the party all along, didn't you?"

"Olivia, this is so not the place for—"

But she was already sliding my panties down my legs in a slow, deliberate way that sent an electric current through my blood. Her eyes swept up to mine just as her tongue reached out for a long taste.

My head knocked back against the cement and I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear watching her eat me out. But she slapped my thigh and my eyes bolted open as I gaped down at her.

"Did you just smack me?"

"You'll watch me lick your pussy."

I opened my mouth to say something stupid back to her but I was stopped when her tongue promptly entered my pussy. Her tongue was warm and wet and just a little rough. God, it was amazing.

She dragged her tongue up to my clit and ran circles around it. Then her fingers found my sloppy hole and she shoved them right in. She began roughly plunging them in and I was astonished to realize that I was going to come. My hands snaked over my body, and the idea of giving myself this little bit of pleasure was heady. My fingers pinched my nipples and I was very easily becoming a trembling mess.

The train passed by us—on a different path, thank God, because if we had to wait around for the next one I'd probably have to take time to devour her and we'd never get home—and the violent sound of shrieking machine metal against metal, the squeaky engine, the sight of uneven flashing of mostly white lights, the sensation of hot wind blowing across our bodies and scattering countless discarded flyers and trash everywhere, was the perfect backdrop to one of the most exciting orgasms I'd ever had.

It was dirty and raw and primal. We were in a public, filthy place and my dress was hiked up and this woman with an amazing brain and a magical tongue was eating me out. Anyone could have been watching us. It didn't matter. It was, hands down, one of the most exciting, erotic, astounding experiences of my entire life.

Her tongue and fingers went wild against my soaked pussy until I couldn't help but embed my fingers into her bun—sadly now entirely misplaced—and pull her face into my pelvis. I humped against her mouth, focused merely on my pleasure.

The pace of her fingers picked up and I was gone, scattered to the wind in trillions of pleasure-soaked atoms. Only when they became reassembled, which was quite some time after, could I breathe again. I looked at Olivia who watched my face with alert satisfaction. She was a mess. It was the first time I saw her not completely put together and I liked it. Her makeup was smeared everywhere, and strands of hair hung messily around her face.

I think she was waiting for me to freak out, or to turn cold, or to start analyzing shit again. I surprised both of us when I stroked her waist and beamed.

"Do I have the afterglow?"

The variations of emotion that swept across her face were adorable and almost comical: wonder, elation, fear, satisfaction, doubt, lust.

"Oh, absolutely," she whispered.

I reached over and cupped the side of her face. She leant into it like a cat.

"I want you to come home with me tonight," I said.

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Yes," I said, looking around us. More people were filling into the station, probably waiting the same line as us. "Yes. Absolutely. I might not be 100% but I'm working on it, Olivia. I'm working on it so bad."

Olivia kissed my cheek. "I know, baby."

I was tired of hiding, of being out of control of things, of people trying to stomp me into the earth. This woman wanted me, and I wanted her, and I was going to enjoy myself. I was going to let myself relax for once.

"Besides," I added, "I have every intention of acting out a great fantasy of mine on you that I think you might enjoy."

Her hand brushed my nipple. "Do tell."

"Do you think I could borrow your strap-on? I'd love to fuck you tonight."

For perhaps the first time in our relationship, it seemed as though I'd stumped Olivia. Her mouth opened, and then shut. She probably didn't know what to say, and was probably afraid to say the wrong thing. So I covered her mouth with mine, and once we finally got on the rail I whispered all the things I wanted to do to her, not leaving one detail out.

And it was Olivia who blushed the whole ride home.



Afterglow Pt. 03



Still not John Grisham.

Thanks for all your encouraging messages. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter VI: In Sleep

Olivia slowly put the lights on in her apartment, turning her head over her shoulder to offer me kisses from time to time.

My hands ran down her dress and yanked off her coat.

"Should we—" she started, but I stopped her words with my mouth. This was my show, my turn to show her what she meant to me.

It was a slow trip up her stairs. Now and then one of us would push the other against the wall and kiss and fondle. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore and pushed her down to rest on the stairs.

"Elizabeth," she murmured thickly. 

I wasn't sure if it was a question or a plea. It didn't matter. She rested against the stairs and I climbed down a bit, parting her legs. I looked up her body, smiling at her expression. She watched with amazement as I ran my hands up her legs—clothed in stockings—and hiked up her skirt. I wasn't the same Elizabeth, fluttering between certainty and doubt. I was a woman with a desirer Olivia's caliber. 

I pulled myself over her and shared a heated kiss. I could have stayed there forever, but I felt Olivia's legs impatiently moving back and forth and was reminded of what I wanted to do.

My mouth traveled down, sucking the skin beneath her earlobe. When my lips met the top of her dress, my hand came up to tear away a little at the the bust.

"Elizabeth!"

I probably should have been embarrassed-and might have been later- but it was worth it. There her ruby nipple was, pointing proudly and begging for my tongue. She groaned when I rested my face against her chest, and wrapped her fingers around my hair. She pushed my head further into her body, panting as I played with her nipple. 

Eventually she let go. Her flushed cheeks told me it was too much. Just before I moved away, I gave her nipple a little nibble. Her entire body jolted and her mouth just opened in shock. 

Back between her legs, I could smell her arousal. It never occurred to me that would be something that I'd ever smell, first of all, and second of all, appreciate. There was a tiny hole in her black stockings. I became fascinated with it, and covered it with my calloused thumb. Olivia made a small noise in her throat. My mind played with various ways to drive her crazy, and when I got one particularly delicious idea I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face.

I bent over her leg and licked the hole, laving my tongue in little circles.

"Elizabeth," Olivia begged again. "I can't— Let's go upstairs. Please. I need you."

But I wasn't done yet. I reached beneath her skirts and slowly pried her stockings down. I left them around her ankles, not interested in going through the process of removing her boots, and dragged the rest of her dress up her body until it rested over her tan stomach.

"Liz, please."

I said nothing. I licked a trail above her sapphire panties and blew. She shuddered beneath me. Her cold hands went to my cheeks. I didn't look at her; instead I gazed between her legs, fascinated at the sheen of her pussy beneath the gauzy blue fabric. 

Without thinking about it, I reached over and kissed her there. She jumped and cursed in a language I didn't recognize. 

"Liz! Let's go into the bedroom," Olivia suggested, her voice twisted and breathy.

I ignored her and found myself slipping her panties down. 

"Oh, God," Olivia groaned, dropping her head down.

I breathed her in, loving the earthy and sweet scent, and then licked a line up her center. The taste was indescribable. She panted and searched for something blindly with her hand. I realized she wanted my own. I grabbed her hand, and with my other I pressed and tickled the sensitive flesh.

"Please, my lover." My eyes met hers. Her head rested on a stair above so she could watch me. "You're driving me crazy."

I lowered my head, keeping my eyes on hers. "Good," I whispered, just before I began battling with her clit. Her eyes squeezed shut and the hand she used to hold mine constricted almost painfully.

I made love to her with my mouth, pouring all of my emotions and frustrations into every flick and every suck.

Her forehead grew shiny with sweat. Different words spilled from her mouth. Some I could understand, others I understood merely from the way she said them. I opened her up more, pressing on the insides of her thighs. Her delicate folds spread further and she gasped when I blew air across her soaked pussy.

Then I slipped my fingers in, one by one, loving the feel of her constricting and releasing around each of them as it sought deeper inside of her. Her head was shaking back and forth, and her hips jutted up and fell back down helplessly as I made love to her.

I had enough teasing her. My fingers picked up their pace and began to fuck her. She slammed the wall with her palm and her eyes stared at me pleadingly. That's when I dropped my head back down and licked around her lips, getting her even more drenched with my saliva. She tasted delicious; I never imagined a woman tasting appetizing the way Olivia did to me.

Then I focused on her clit, flicking it slowly at first before moving my tongue around in frantic circles. She was wet and my mouth was only making her wetter.

Olivia's moan was really a song, and the song grew higher and higher as she climbed up the hill to orgasm. 

"Fuck!" she screamed, before continuing to sing.

I shoved my tongue into her hole and fucked her with it. My fingers blindly searched for her sopping clit and I knew I found it when she shrieked and her song became connected moans. 

She came on my tongue. I swallowed and then licked her all around. She giggled and pushed me away.

"So sensitive."

I thought it would be weird. I would have never thought in a million years this was something that could turn me on. But it did.

"Get up," I ordered.

She looked up at me, smirking. "Now you think you're in control?"

"Get up, Olivia. I'm going to fuck you."

"You just did," she laughed, throwing her arms over her head and resting on the stairs.

I climbed up her body, rubbing our breasts together and sighing unevenly. "I mean with your strap-on. As promised."

And for maybe the hundredth time that night, I shocked Olivia Beringer. 

______________________________

The next afternoon, I showed up at the nail salon as promised. Jackie and I were picking out nail colors and I kept looking at her, wondering when the right time was to tell her I was in a lesbian relationship. I certainly couldn't tell her while we were getting our nails done, and she had to dash when we were done. Her sister was having some kind of drama; I only half-listened to that part.

Eventually she turned and caught me watching her. "Is there something on your mind?"

"What? No. Not at all." I picked up a random bottle of polish.

Jackie's eyes swung from the bottle back to me. "So, you're going with blue today, then?"

I looked at the bottle and laughed. 'Baby Blues' it was called. 

"Definitely not. Can't imagine Roger loving that."

"God, what is it with you and Roger?"

I turned from the polish rack. "What do you mean?"

"What's the deal with your hero worship? I swear to God you'd, like, cut your palm as sacrifice for him."

"Haha, you're so dramatic! No, he just sort of...mentored me when I started out. And he knew my dad, back when Dad was practicing. He's always been really decent to me. You know it's not really easy climbing up the ranks as a girl."

"Hell no, thank God I've never had aspirations to be an attorney. I like being a sort of office manager, even if they won't give me the fucking title."

Jackie was quiet for a minute. Then she turned to me. "You know Robert is kind of a scumbag? I didn't realize it when I kept pushing you to go out with him. I'm sorry."

I blinked. That was unexpected. "Um, don't worry about it. Why do you mention it?"

"He just makes jokes. About women. I can just tell it eats him up you're on the same level as him in Roger's eyes."

"Hmm. I don't worry much about that, and you shouldn't, either. But thanks for having my back." I bumped shoulders with her.

I was reaching for a bottle when she asked, "So, are we gonna talk about your affair with Olivia now or when Cindy files my nails?"

Slowly I turned to her. And then I giggled. A lot. She went crazy giggling too and everyone in the nail salon stared at us like we were lunatics.

When we settled down and wiped the tears from her eyes, I stared at her soberly. "I really like her."

Jackie turned away, fiddling with a few bottles of polish. "And she's good to you?"

"Very. I don't know why, but she has it in her head I'm some kind of interesting person. And I just thought I was neurotic."

I didn't get the big smile I wanted, but Jackie did try. She looked at me and then hugged me before I was prepared. "Good. And shut up, of course you're an interesting person."

"So, you aren't weirded out by it?" I asked her.

She pulled away and shook her head with a warm smile. "Nah. I'm sorry I wasn't more supportive from the start."

"It's a big...change. I get it."

One of the manicurists came out and gave us a look. "Who goes first?"

We laughed, remembering once again where we were, and I thanked God I still had Jackie as my friend. 

______________________________

Olivia and I had settled into a strange routine by the time Monday came around. I was due back at work, and she was convinced I was going to come home all closed-off and moody.

"You're going to want to break up again."

She was only wearing simple white panties, but she looked delicious laying there in my bed. I crept up her body—in my clothes for work—and gave her a big fat kiss. 

"If your pussy tastes as good as usual when I get off work, I'm sure I'll be in a perfect mood."

Olivia laughed and stroked my jaw. "Who is this woman on top of me? I've created a monster."

"You are an artist. It would only figure you'd work on me."

She kissed me, running her hands through my freshly brushed hair. When she moved her mouth away, her smile was soft. "My masterpiece."

I gave her another peck. "Don't be silly."

I got off of her and got ready. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"I have to go back to my apartment. I'm expecting shipments."

"Okay. Well, I guess I'll call you."

Olivia leant up on an elbow. "We'll have dinner?"

I smiled. "We'll have dinner."

______________________________

There was a strange vibe when I walked into the office that morning. Roger and Robert were talking in Roger's office, and I could have sworn they peeked at me a few times through the blinds in the window. 

But by noon, nothing had been said and I decided to drop it. I was just being paranoid. I thought instead of the pretty girl I had waiting for me, and how crazy my transition had been. When do I tell my mom? Am I really a lesbian now? I mean, I don't think I could go down on just anybody. But with Olivia...

"Elizabeth?"

I looked over my shoulder and Roger stood there, his fatherly eyes staring at me with concern. Fuck. Something was definitely wrong.

I painted a smile on my face. "Hi, Roger. What's up?"

"I'd like to have a conversation with you, if you don't mind. Would you join me in my office?"

"Of course. Should I bring any files with me or—"

"That won't be necessary." He smiled, but it was off. He was giving me his Lawyer Smile.

I followed him into his office as though I were following him to my death. I saw Robert sitting at his desk, looking quite smug, and I just knew what was about to happen.

"Sit. Please."

"You're giving Rose Sherman's case to Robert, aren't you?"

Roger sighed and took a sip of water. "Please sit down, Elizabeth."

"This is such bullshit, Roger. No one else can represent that case the way I can. I've gotten to know Rose very well and—"

"And you know we're ever supposed to get that close to the people we represent." He pointed at the chair behind me. "Sit down. Please."

I sat, because what other fucking choice did I have. "Robert's going to get his meaty hands all over this thing, scare the shit out of Rose, make her unpredictable. She's never going to get accustomed to him. You have to know that!"

Roger's face turned red and he got angrier than I've ever seen him.

"I know that you've fucked up what should have been an open and shut case. I know that I got a call this morning from a gloating Landon Fontaine what a fucking shitshow the other day was. Any information pertaining to Lorna Stone is out. Thankfully the other charges remain, as tremulous as they are." 

"Why wasn't I present for the meeting with the judge this—"

"Why do you think?" Roger whipped out a cigarette and got up, opening the window. He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag. "You and I both know this guy is bad. But we fucked up. We all fucked up—the police, you, me, even Rose Sherman. We're going to try again, but I think it's in everyone's best interest that Rob lead this time. He's worked against Landon countless times. And he's...less passionate about it."

"You mean he has a dick."

Roger flicked the cigarette out the window and came over to me. He stood and pointed down at me and I couldn't recall ever feeling so small. "Don't you dare insinuate I'm a misogynist. I impartially look around to see who can represent the DA's case the best. Robert is the guy for this one. He will continue to seek ways to hold Mr. Tierney accountable. In the meantime, you have a new case file on your desk."

He went around his desk and eased into his chair, shuffling papers. When he glanced up and caught my expression, he rolled his eyes.

"Jesus, don't look at me like that, Liz. It isn't a death sentence. I haven't sent you off to Siberia. I've moved you off a case, and put you on one more suited to your skill set. That's it. Period.

A few moments later I found the strength to stand. He called me back before I got to his door. I inhaled and turned around, trying to hold myself up to my best height.

"I think it's also best you stop communicating with Rose and her...girlfriend. You keeping contact with them might only confuse the case. Okay?"

He gave me his Lawyer Smile before looking back at his work, scratching a note here, crossing off a word there.

______________________________

I called Olivia when I was walking out of the building.

"You sound weird," she said.

I swallowed down a sob. "I'm fine. So where do you want to go?"

She was quiet for a minute, likely deliberating whether or not I was telling the truth. "Let's go to the Indian restaurant on the corner of your block. I've been dying to try it."

I pushed open the door and emerged into the freezing evening. It was flurrying. "Sure."

"Okay. I'll see you soon. How fast you think you can get there?"

"As fast as I can."

Any moment I was going to crack and I didn't want her to hear it.

"Okay." Olivia sounded distant, far away. Sad. 

I hung up on her and headed for the subway. I sat on a bench, staring into space, waiting for my line to roll in. Once it did, I was jostled roughly by some asshole on my way on but I didn't even care. I sat in the corner and thought over the day. Thought about Rose Sherman, about Dan Tierney. Robert muddling up all my hard work and Landon laughing his ass off that I got tossed off the case. I would never progress after this. I could see it in Roger's eyes, even if I hadn't heard it in his words. 

I didn't realize I was crying until someone extended a tissue towards me. I looked up and it was some gang guy, with a trillion tats and even a tear tattoo below his eye. I probably put someone like him behind bars weekly.

But here he was, handing me a tissue because I was crying.

"You okay, ma'am?"

I blinked. The car bumped a few times.

"Yes. Yeah. Thank you."

He nodded and went back to looking out the window.

It was strange how cruel the city could be, and yet there was an even stranger kindness shining through the cracks.

______________________________

I ran home to feed Toronto and give him a good belly rub before dinner.

And then Olivia was waiting at the tiny bar when I walked in.

"Our table is ready!" she said, kissing my cheek. 

She brought me over, thanking the hostess, and then sat across from me. She didn't analyze me, or question me. In fact, she hardly paid attention to me.

"Olivia."

"Don't."

"Olivia."

Her coffee-colored eyes looked up at me over the menu. They were filled with tears. I reached across the table for her hand but she snatched it back.

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you? Yet again."

"No.'

"Yes, you are. You are! You look horrible. You look wretched and sad. I can just hear the speech you're about to give me!"

"My boss demoted me. Unofficially."

Her eyes blinked and she lowered her menu. "What?"

"Took me off the case. Gave it to that asshole Robert, thinking he's going to get better results." I looked around the restaurant and shook my head. "Maybe he will."

The waiter came over and took our order. Then I told Olivia all about it and she became as angry as I was.

"Isn't there something you can do? Someone to report to?"

"Technically he hasn't done anything wrong, and I did mess up."

Olivia's eyes roamed over my face. "Do you know what we need to do tonight?"

I leaned against my elbow. "No, what?"

"We need to get hammered."

"What?!"

"Wasted. Totally shitfaced."

The expressions coming from her mouth, in her accent, made me nearly die laughing. "You're crazy!"

"Shall it just be the two of us or should we invite friends?" I thought about it, but before I could answer Olivia swatted her hand dismissively. "We'll make friends."

We proceeded to do a bit of a pub crawl, getting rowdier after each new place we stumbled out of.

"What's your name?" one guy asked me at one of our first. Olivia had gone off to get us some shots.

"Dora."

"Flora?"

"Sure."

Another bar was filled with hipsters who were arguing about Jack Kerouac and F. Scott Fitzgerald. The next was filled with financial adviser types. Olivia stuck her tongue out at them.

At one bar, these two guys refused to believe we were gay and wanted us to prove it to them. Basically, they just wanted to see us hook up. I turned to Olivia, sure she'd be as indignant about it as I was, but her lips were already on mine. She made out with me ferociously.

And then when she was done, she licked her lips and grinned at the men. "And we get to go home together, and you two aren't invited."

We found a really cool bar where we stayed for most of the evening. We weren't completely out of our minds yet, but everything was blurry and crystal-like at the same time.

"I have work tomorrow," I mumbled. 

Olivia rubbed the back of my neck. "Call in sick."

I downed the shot in front of me. "Won't that make them think I'm just as weak as they think I am? Wait, does that even make sense?"

"Elizabeth, baby, who cares? Call in sick. Have a proper day hungover. Curl up with me and watch black and white movies. Play with Toronto. Give yourself a goddamn day!"

She made a pretty good argument. I swayed to kiss her but ended up falling off the stool and onto my ass. A couple of guys came over to help. I was utterly humiliated, in spite of my inebriation. Olivia cackled against the bar, watching me attempt to stand up straight.

The next glimpse of with-it-ness I had was Olivia helping me to undress in my bedroom. Toronto was cuddled up on the bottom of the bed, and Olivia was trying to shoo him to the floor.

"Good luck."

Olivia's white grin with that one crooked tooth made me love her a little more. And that's when I realized it, falling down drunk, that I was falling in love with her. It was a little inconvenient, and more than a bit overwhelming, but I liked the feeling as I watched Olivia untie my boots and toss them behind her.




Afterglow Pt. 03



"Now me," Olivia said with a smile. She undressed quickly, even taking off her underwear, before burrowing beneath the covers with me. "Brrrrr. So cold."

I nuzzled into her shoulder and rested my arm against her chest, thrilling in the sensation of her cold, hard nipples pressing into my skin. My body felt simultaneously heavy but light, and I felt like I couldn't keep my vision straight.

Olivia kissed my neck. "My princess."

"What am I going to do?"

Olivia stroked the arm on top of her. "About?"

"Rose. Felicity. I just feel so bad that we made this connection and I have to abandon them to that asshole."

"Be content that he has at least the desire to win." 

I heard someone honking passionately outside.

"What was it like when you found out you had breast cancer? I know it's a stupid question. I mean, obviously it sucked but we never really-"

Olivia inhaled deeply, and exhaled loudly. "At first, I didn't really believe it. Not that I didn't believe it, I mean... I saw the test results. I went to more than one doctor. I knew they weren't lying to me. But I still didn't believe it. This body of mine that I dragged around the world was betraying me. I couldn't make sense of it."

A fire truck wailed passed by my building.

"When it hit me, it was hard. I had a lot of supportive friends. They were a big part of why I made it, of that I have no doubt. But it was lonely, too. And eye-opening. I wanted to do everything, go everywhere. I went to every new play that opened. I went to every restaurant and spent a fortune trying the best dishes, the most supreme champagnes. I wanted to kiss attractive strangers on the streets, I wanted a million love affairs. Staring death in the face is quite different than having it hover unpleasantly in the background." 

She sighed and stretched out. "And there was that loneliness again, because I spent a great deal of time alone, too. Some nights it felt like there was no one else living but me. Which was funny, considering my body was failing."

I played with her hair. "And then what settled you? Because you're settled now, believe it or not."

"Painting, as always," she said with a smile in her voice. "It grounds me. Makes me see things in this almost magical way. But sometimes my head is too far up in the clouds and I can't see the ground below me. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think I have a problem seeing anything above the skyline."

We were quiet for a long time. I listened to the sounds outside and watched the shadows on the ceiling. It wasn't until she turned to me that I realized Olivia was awake.

"I'm so glad I found you." She kissed me. 

"Why?"

"Many reasons. You fight for goodness."

"It's my job."

"Shut up! And you may have had your qualms about our relationship, but you were never a coward. You're a good person."

I took her hand and carried it up to my heart. "Why do you like me so much?"

I saw her smile in the dim light. "Because you loved my painting. Because you seem so innocent and new; I love shocking you. Because you let Toronto sleep on the bed. Because you sing Madonna songs under your breath when you're not paying attention." She kissed my shoulder. "Because you're up at 4am worrying about your poor clients."

I squeezed her hand. "I like you because—"

"Another night, when I'm more awake to appreciate it. Goodnight, sweetheart.

"Goodnight."

She reached over to kiss me, and only after that was I able to sleep.



Afterglow Pt. 04



Chapter VII: Wide Awake

I went to work the next morning, anyway. 

Olivia tried her very best to keep me in bed, but I had to know what Robert was deciding on—Stalking in the Third or Fourth Degree. Fourth Degree meant Dan would only spend 90 days in jail; Third Degree carried a year sentence. Neither was a wonderful option, but Third was the best we could hope for.

Of course if Dan pulled something when released, next time we could push further in court and the jail time would go up to at least 4 years. It was still tremendously sad to me that Rose would have to continue to be tormented, that Dan would have to nearly kill her before being put away. 

Stalking was a tough crime to prove. It was even more difficult to get a decent jail sentence. Most stalkers didn't just forget about their victims in jail; usually the obsession simmered and then boiled over. Dan Tierney seemed like the kind of stalker who would remain dedicated to his mission of making life hell for Rose and Felicity.

I had wanted to put him away permanently, but my hands were tied. Or Robert's hands were tied; mine were just clasped in prayer that there would be some justice. I wanted Dan to receive far more than a slap on the wrist.

I marched along the sidewalk, my irritation growing with each person bumping roughly into me. I collided with a tourist, his gigantic camera lifted up to capture the image of an insignificant building. He didn't apologize. Of course not.

Freezing rain trickled down, stabbing my face with each drop. I huddled into my coat but a truck sped past, throwing filthy and ice-cold water onto my stockinged legs. Motherfucker. I hadn't thought to bring an umbrella, either. My heels nearly slipped on the sidewalk. I tried to walk slowly for once but the morning crowd was relentless and unapologetic as it pushed itself—and me—along. Things weren't boding well for me.

When I walked into the office I spotted Robert in the kitchen. I dropped my stuff onto my desk and went over to him. He rolled his eyes.

"You gonna start yelling at me because I took your girlfriends away?" he asked.

I wanted to. I had to bite my tongue to keep from shouting at him and calling him every bad name I could think of. But I realized the trial was about way more than me and Robert and Roger and office politics. It was about a lot more than my ego.

"No." I took a deep breath. "I would just appreciate it if you shared some of the information with me. Kept me updated."

"God," he groaned, tossing his head back. "Don't you ever give yourself a break? This isn't even your case anymore and you're obsessing over it."

"Could you just do that for me?"

He stirred his coffee, studying me. "And what do I get out of this?"

I blew my bangs out of my face and narrowed my eyes. "Do you have to be gross about it?"

"I'm not being gross. I'm not insinuating anything, in fact." Robert sipped his coffee and then licked his lips. "It must have killed you inside when Roger disciplined you."

"Forget I said anything," I sighed, turning to leave the kitchen.

Robert's hand stopped me, squeezing the flesh of my upper arm. "The case is mine, Elizabeth. Don't you fucking dare try to worm your way back in."

"I am not trying to do anything. I care about these people; I've been working with them for a long—"

His bark of laughter cut me off. "You're funny. Hilarious. Why is this case so much more important to you than all the others, Elizabeth?"

"I don't—"

"You got too close. I wonder why. I wonder what the draw was..."

I kept my eyes fixed on his fingers on my arm. "Let me go," I said breathlessly, "or I'll make a complaint."

"You'll make a complaint," Robert mimicked. "It's just a pink sheet, Elizabeth."

I yanked my arm from his hold and he continued laughing at me.

"I'll go to Roger," I heard myself saying. God, I sounded weak. I was disgusted with myself, but even more so with Robert. I reached for my wildcard, even as my mind swirled. "And I'll tell him all about your little affair with his wife. Don't think I forgot about that, Robert," I said, spitting out his name.

A spark of fear ignited in his eyes. "He still wouldn't give you the case," he said carefully.

"It would be worth it just to see you squished beneath his shoes." A smile crept across my face. "I should have told him when I found out, honestly, but I hadn't wanted to hurt him. You think I still feel that way?"

Robert straightened his tie. "No one else can represent your girlfriends like I can."

I got nose to nose with him. "See that you do that, or I'll tell Roger everything. It would be incredibly exciting for me to see you take that smug smile, and even that pink sheet you joked about earlier, and shove them up your useless ass."

Robert watched me stalk over to my desk and kept an eye on me for the rest of the day. I wasn't sure if it was because he was terrified and wanted to make sure I didn't run to Roger when he wasn't looking, or if he was thinking of something awful to do to me. By the end of the day my stomach was in a complete knot. 

He packed up his stuff and passed me, pausing for a moment by my desk. "I'm going for Fourth Degree. It's the only one that'll stick."

"You're not even going to try to—"

"Landon has more evidence, Elizabeth. Of fucking course. More texts, more photos and more letters. It is a clusterfuck. Breaking and entering is out, attempted assault is out. All we have left is the stalking charge. Better to get Tierney for anything we can than to let him walk away entirely. This'll go on his record. If he dicks around with Rose Sherman again, we can hit him with Second Degree...maybe."

Tears came to my eyes. I figured he'd do Fourth, but the reality of it hit me. 90 days. What a breeze that would be. And I knew he wouldn't stop, even after he was released. He'd never stop until he made Rose pay for having the courage to walk away.

OOOOOO

On the ride home I zoned out and put my headphones in. I played sad song after sad song, feeling sorry for myself. The familiar odors of urine and smoke that the subway often provided were at least some comfort to me. It seemed tragic, but that some things can remain familiar while everything else is going to shit is always a comfort. 

Olivia called me while I crossed a street and gave the middle finger to a taxi who ran through the light. 

"Hi."

"How are you?" she asked immediately.

I leaned against a storefront, ignoring the rush of people passing by me. "Shitty."

"Come home. Toronto and I miss you."

Olivia cooked me dinner that night. Beef stew, she said, because I needed something homey. 

I watched her cutting the carrots and felt this burning need to hold her. I got up from the chair and wrapped my arms around her stomach. The dress she wore was silky; I couldn't resist balling a bit of the fabric in my fist and feeling the warmth of her below. She leant back into my body. 

"What are you doing?"

"I just want to be near you." I nuzzled my cheek into her shoulder. "You're the best thing in my life."

"That's because the rest of your life sucks right now," she snickered. She looked over her shoulder at me. "I wish there was something I could do to make it better."

I kissed her neck and she made a small noise of pleasure. 

"You're making it better right now," I whispered against her skin. "Just by being here. Just by being you. Thank you. I know all this can't be fun for you."

Olivia spun around and rested her arms on my shoulders, clasping her hands at the back of my neck. "Fun? You can't have fun every second. It would lose its novelty."

"I think you're used to a lot more fun than you've been having. You have to keep taking care of me and it must be such a drag. Have you even been painting? Gone to any galas, exhibits, shows? You're stuck with me."

Her eyebrows rose. "Stuck? I'd rather be stuck with you than anyone else. Being stuck can be good." I opened my mouth to disagree but she kissed me, shutting me up. She pulled away a few minutes later, leaving us both breathless. "I paint while you are at work. I've always painted during the day. As for galas, I was just at one, remember? I don't care to go that often, between you and me. And we were just out last night, and even though you'd had a horrendous day I had a wonderful night. You were hilarious and sweet. You gave a big part of yourself to me and you don't even realize."

I kissed her. How could I not when she said such sweet things?

I wanted to tell her I loved her. I wanted to give an even bigger part of myself to her, because she deserved to know. It didn't matter to me if she didn't feel the same way because I knew she cared for me a great deal. That was enough. 

But something boiled over on the stove and Olivia cursed, running over to turn down the dial. I followed her, turning it off entirely.

She looked at me, her coffee eyes scanning my face. "And what are you doing, little girl?"

My hand traveled down her side and gripped her hip. I took a step closer, pressing our breasts together. My eyes widened a bit when I felt and saw her hard nipples. I laughed when she blushed.

"I'm used to you not wearing a bra, Olivia." My fingers crept up her thigh and met bare, slick heat. Now I truly was surprised. "No underwear at all, then?"

Olivia bit her lip to keep from giggling. She failed, laughing so hard that I couldn't help but laugh with her. 

"Laundry day?" I teased.

"Hush up and fuck me."

I licked the corner of her mouth and pushed two fingers inside her. "As you command."

She made kitten noises as I moved in and out, picking up speed when her body rippled with pleasure. I kissed her all over—her forehead, her nose, the point of her nipple through her silky dress. The last one made her jump delightfully and I felt her tighten against my fingers. I slipped another in and she slammed her hands down on the countertop. The smacking sound of her palms against the counter added to the eroticism of the moment.

"Want to go to the bedroom?" I asked her, panting against her throat. 

Olivia shook her head wildly, her hair flying all over the place. Then she met my eyes, leaning her weight back into her arms. Her eyes were completely electrified, begging me for more and promising tortuous satisfaction for later.

"I want you to finger me... here. Here in the kitchen." She rested her ass and back against the counter, freeing her hands to run over my body. I gasped and my fingers slowed. "Could you have ever imagined this before, Elizabeth? Fucking someone in your kitchen, fucking a woman in your kitchen?"

"No," I breathed. "No, I never could have."

Her hands roughly pulled aside my blouse and she nearly ripped off my bra. She held my breasts in her hands, occasionally letting her thumbs graze the nipples. In response I thrust another finger inside her soaked pussy, rubbing her clit with my thumb. The howl she buried in my shoulder made my empty pussy pulse, desperate to grab onto something. I could smell her, that damp stickiness of pleasure, and it made me long even more to be filled.

As if Olivia heard my thoughts, she yanked down my pencil skirt. She made a sound of amusement when she saw the frilly blue panties I wore. I hadn't even made a conscious effort to wear them that morning, and she apparently hadn't noticed them, either.

She pushed my panties from my hips and they slipped down my legs, catching around my ankles. One finger ran down my drenched lips, catching at my hole. It was so simple, but it turned me on so much. 

I fucked her harder with my fingers and she paused touching me, closing her eyes. I bent my head down, licking and biting her delicious nipples through her thin dress. She trembled and I wondered for a moment if she might come. I sped up and applied more pressure to her slippery clit.

"Oh, God," she groaned. "Please. Wait."

"Are you going to come, Olivia?" I asked, running my nose up her cheek and inhaling the scent of her perfume mixed with the saltiness of her flesh. Then I licked my lips and pressed them to her ear. "You gonna come all over my fingers?"

I felt her grow wetter as her pussy squeezed my fingers rhythmically. She let out a sharp gasp and then cried, "Yes. Oh, god, yeah." 

Tonguing her clothed nipple, I rammed my fingers in harder. She went completely wild, writhing between me and the counter. All that held her up were my fingers inside her and my other arm wrapped around her waist.

A few minutes later she floated down to earth. Her heavy eyelashes flicked up and she pinned me with an almost feral stare. Her face approached mine slowly. She licked my lips and I shivered.

"I'm going to make you come so hard tonight, baby. All your stress is gonna disappear. Just like that," Olivia whispered. 

"Touch me," I begged.

"Step out of your panties." I looked down and lifted each heeled foot. Her hand ran down my back and clutched my ass. "You have a delicious ass."

"Olivia. Please."

She took my hand and brought me to the bedroom, making a kissy noise at Toronto who slept peacefully in his bed. I was glad he had someone to pay attention to him lately. 

She pushed me down onto the bed. I couldn't wait for her touch, so I pinched my nipples, watching her fully undress through heavy eyes. She tore off my heels and tossed them over her shoulder. Finally she was beside me. She slapped my hands away from my nipples, and then slapped my breasts for good measure.

"It's my time to touch you," Olivia rasped. "And I get very jealous. Even of your fingers."

She kissed me deeply. Then those full, damp lips traveled down...over my throat, skimming across my collarbone, down to my breasts where her mouth lingered. Her eyes caught mine as her tongue slipped out slowly and ran against my nipple. It was hard before, but now it was painfully so. 

Then she clamped down on it, sucking it with relentless passion. Finally she gave up her prey, only to move on to my other breast. My hips were lifting on their own at that point, eager for something to fill that aching emptiness. I felt her fingers carefully separating my slick lips, just grazing the edge of my clit. Then they pushed inside. I moaned and reached for her hair, tugging on it gently. 

Olivia's mouth came back to mine, sharing passionate kisses as she explored me. Another finger joined the one, probing deeper. She pulled back, panting even harder than I was, and watched my face as she slipped in another finger and increased the speed. 

"Shall I put my mouth on you?" she asked. The hand between my thighs moved away.

I kept thinking "please, please, please" but I couldn't even get the words out. She obviously knew what I wanted and smirked as she bent down for another kiss. 

Thankfully she took mercy on me and crept down my body, her tongue sliding out to lick here and there. When she got to my right hipbone, she swirled her tongue around in tiny, wet circles. She sucked in my skin and then released it a few minutes later. I stared down my body at her, hypnotized by the sparks in her eyes. She watched me as I watched her. Then her tongue dipped into my wetness. The sight was so erotic I nearly came then.

Her tongue ran across my lips in long glides, always managing to skip my clit. I grabbed onto the sheets and chased her mouth with my hips every time she pulled away to laugh. 

My hands couldn't take it anymore and frantically reached for my breasts. My nipples were desperately hard, and when I twisted them between my fingers a delicious chill went through my body. 

Olivia continued to lap at me, her fat tongue licking me up. She moaned into my flesh and worked her tongue inside. I couldn't take it anymore and began pleading. I have no idea what words and promises poured forth from me in those pleasure-wracked moments; I just know Olivia kept fucking me with her tongue. She continued dragging me to the precipice of orgasming and then she would pull back. It was maddening.

After what felt like an eternity, her fingers went to my clit. Everything tightened.

Olivia took her mouth away. "Wanna come for me, baby?"

"Please. Yes."

She licked her finger which was dripping from me. "Will you come for me?"

"Yeah. Mm, yeah."

Olivia disappeared from between my thighs. I would have wept had she not positioned herself over me so that her soft, wet pussy moved against my own. She moved on me quickly but carefully, mashing herself against my clit. Tan skin pushed against pale thighs. Her hair hung down, and when she bent to kiss me, the tips of it brushed against my nipples. She kept one soaked hand between us to play.


It was all too much. With one last wet thrust against my clit, I was coming like I'd never come before. My cries were hardly recognizable. Somewhere through my bliss, Olivia had returned to crouching between my legs. She fucked me with her tongue tortuously fast. Then she soothed me with it, caressing me as I came down.

"Oh, God," I said when I finally got my breath back.

Olivia gave me one last lick before joining me at the top of the bed. I reached for one of her breasts, plucking a nipple. Her breath twisted. She opened her mouth to say something but I reached over and took the nipple into my mouth, running my tongue over it. She groaned and fisted my hair. 

Then she laughed. "I've created a monster."

I pulled away, smiling wide. "Are you sorry?"

"No," she said immediately, kissing my nose.

I stretched out on the bed, feeling relaxed and wonderful. Olivia gave that to me. My hand went to her thigh which I pushed over my own. Entwined like that, I could have lay there for hours.

"My stew," Olivia whispered, as if she, too, was reluctant to break the spell. "I still have to cook it."

My foggy mind remembered the meal she was making for me. Just then it occurred to me I was starving. Olivia smiled and pressed her hand against my stomach.

"I'll be quick."

She burst out of bed and threw on a robe she'd brought over. Then she dashed out to the kitchen. I got up and followed, not even self-conscious I was walking around naked. Toronto saw me and his ears perked up. His tail gave a few enthusiastic wags before his head went back down.

Olivia saw me standing across the kitchen.

"Want to help me cut up some potatoes?"

"I'm awful at it," I said. "I'll probably end up cutting my fingers off."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being such a baby and get over here."

I grabbed my own robe—I didn't want to sit on my chair with a naked and wet bottom. I did as she ordered and miraculously my fingers remained intact. Sitting there in my warm kitchen, smelling the spices cook, listening to Olivia sing under her breath...I felt at peace. I felt at home.

I felt happy.

OOOOOO

A week later I met up with Rose and Felicity at a busy Italian restaurant on the other side of town. It was a nice, quiet place, in spite of the crowd. Unfortunately the tranquility ended once Felicity sat down and flipped out on me.

"Enough," Rose said after Felicity verbally abused me for twenty minutes. She took Felicity's hand and kissed it. "Calm down. It isn't her fault."

Felicity's head spun back to her girlfriend. "Isn't her fault?! She totally fucked up our case! And now we have some asshole in charge of whether or not that disgusting shit-skid-mark-of-a-man is gonna be able to roam the streets and terrorize you. Jesus. What a fucking mess." Her eyes squinted at me. "He stares at our tits. Robert the Asshole."

I groaned. "Ugh. He is disgusting, and I'm sorry for that. It really was out of my hands. Believe me." 

The busy week had caught up with me and it took everything I had not to fall asleep at the table. Mostly it had consisted of me running around, filing this and that motion or meeting with so-and-so to arrange a plea. Nothing particularly exciting but definitely time-consuming. Roger definitely knew how to keep me busy. Not to mention my mother had been calling relentlessly and I couldn't go much longer without calling her back. She'd want me to come over and I'd have to announce to both my parents that not only was I in love with a woman but the man my father admired and considered a good friend screwed me over.




Afterglow Pt. 04



The only thing I had to look forward to during the week was Olivia curled up with me on the sofa. Toronto's big body would squeeze between us as we watched mindless TV. 

I asked her one night if she wanted to go over to her place. She asked me if that was a subtle way to ask for space, to which I replied a fervent "no". It did strike me, however, that we'd spent every night together for the past week.

Which brought me back to wondering if we should go over to her apartment for a change. I felt bad for taking her completely out of her element of creativity and freedom and dragging her into my world of gloom and furniture that didn't match (it seemed like she was far more upset about my mismatching furniture). I'd uprooted her life and I felt guilty that she was intent on sharing my burden. She wanted to know everything about my job, what I was doing, how I was feeling. She was just as sad as I was about Rose. 

A few days later I pressed the issue again. Surely she missed the open, inviting, gorgeous brownstone that almost everyone envied. She waved me off and changed the subject. Then I thought maybe Toronto was a factor. I said I could have my neighbor watch him for one night. Finally she admitted she just liked it at my place.

"I like the simple life."

I scooped some dog food into Toronto's bowl and glanced at her. "I'll take that as a compliment, I think."

Though Robert told me a bit about what was going on with Rose's case, I wanted to see her in person and apologize. 

Sitting across from them, I thought to myself that I should have left it alone, especially with Felicity barking in my face.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "At least Robert's a good lawyer. He's a prick, but he's a good lawyer. And he always wants to win. He's going to be an animal in that courtroom opposite Landon, trust me."

Felicity's face screwed up. "Trust you? Believe me, I don't fucking—"

"We only have a little more than 2 weeks before they let Dan out for violating the protective order," Rose cut in, looking terrified. I could tell she was fighting hard to keep it together. "What then?"

"It's the state's duty to protect you. The protective order will go back into effect and I imagine they'll keep him under close watch." My attempt to sound optimistic was shitty, and both girls watched me closely. "I'm sorry I didn't do a better job for you. I wish I could be the one by your side, but it truly is out of my control. I've essentially been demoted; you should see the case files being dropped on my desk now. Most of them won't even warrant me going into court. It's just to keep my busy."

"I'm sorry," Rose breathed. "I feel like it's my fault, you know, because I withheld that information. I never thought it would come up. I should have known. It was just so humiliating!"

I cut in before Felicity could go off on some well-meaning but loud and brusque diatribe about how Rose needs to stop blaming herself and to stop falling back into the victim mindset. Whatever information Felicity read online in the support groups she'd joined and the lessons they were getting from their therapy sessions were certainly helpful, but it wasn't always the time or place to whip them out. 

Though it was sweet she tried, I guess. It reminded me a little of Olivia, who still ranted and raved about my unofficial demotion. She wanted me to "do something about it", but there wasn't much to be done. I gave Roger an excuse. On paper, it made perfect sense that he handed the case over, and no one could say I wasn't being given work. Still, it boiled Olivia's blood. The fact she cared so much was just another way she was amazing.

"It's absolutely not your fault. I didn't mean to make you feel bad...I just want you to know I'm powerless when it comes to this. Landon played this like a dick, my boss sniffed failure and remembered I had a vagina. It would have happened eventually. I was bound to make an error somewhere, you know? I just wish it wasn't on this case." I took a big gulp of wine. "You—both of you—have come to mean a lot to me. I care about you. I want the two of you to be safe and happy. I can't be the one who brings about the safety and the happiness, but I do believe in Robert's experience and ability. Landon even swallows hard when Robert performs. He's won a few big cases against Landon in the past."

I smiled, reveling in the memories I had of Robert turning Landon into a stuttering mess. It wasn't often, but when it happened it was divine. 

I focused my attention back on the two girls across from me. "I asked Robert to keep me updated on the case, okay? I might not be able to represent you, but I want to help any way I can. And now I'm invested; I can't let go."

Felicity offered me a small smile. It was practically a fucking miracle coming from her. She hated my guts. "I think you care maybe a little too much. You're very passionate."

"Ah, and there is my fatal flaw," I laughed. "Passion is good in a courtroom but if you get too close or distracted being passionate in real life..." I looked away. "Lorna Stone was very important. I missed her. I was over-confident and distracted by a lot of bullshit."

Rose tore apart a piece of bread. "So what kind of jail time are we looking at, if he gets time? Or prison?" 

I'd said to Rose and Felicity that we weren't looking at a great deal of jail time after this trial, but in the flurry of courtroom drama and Robert taking over, I feared they might have forgotten.

"90 days."

The women looked at one another. They were expressionless. I prepared myself for tears. I figured Felicity was going to leap over the table and strangle me. That's what I imagined, anyway.

Instead they looked back at me, both faces sober and pale. 

"How the fuck is that possible?" Felicity asked.

"It's the best chance we have of getting jail time on his record. If he were to do anything when released, we would be able to get more. Let's hope this bout of law enforcement will influence him to move on."

"Law enforcement?" Rose asked in disbelief. "Do I have to be nearly dead before they do something to him? He violated me in so many ways. Broke into my apartment. Did disgusting stuff to my things. Those voicemails he left... I'll never get his voice out of my head, or the mental picture of the things he promised."

I looked down at my hands, wishing there was more I could do. "I'm sorry, Rose."

She snorted and my eyes swept up. "Unreal." She downed her glass of wine. "I remember you saying he likely wouldn't get a lot of jail time but... 90 days."

Felicity pushed Rose's hair over her shoulder. "It'll be okay, Rose."

"No. No, it won't." Unshed tears gleamed in her eyes. Her sorrowful gaze met mine. "He's never going to stop, is he? That's sort of what you're banking on. He'll have to keep hunting me before you can really do anything. Right?"

"Robert will—"

"I don't want to feel like this anymore!" Rose burst out. "He's going to hunt me forever. He won't let go. He won't let go because he's a sick, twisted, perverted nightmare."

There was no point in answering and continuing the conversation. It only made us feel horrible. We needed a distraction, something happy and fun. A strange thought came into my head. I talked myself out of it a few times but then figured what the hell could happen.

"Do you two want to come over tomorrow night?" The next day was Friday. Perfect. "We'll have dinner. Some drinks. Play with my dog. You can meet my," I took a breath and swallowed, "meet my girlfriend."

It was the first time I referred to Olivia as my girlfriend and I liked it.

Rose and Felicity did a double-take. 

Felicity spoke first. "What?"

"My girlfriend. My partner."

"I'm confused," Rose said, a small smile creeping across her face. "You're gay?"

I shrugged because I didn't have an answer to that question. "Her name is Olivia. You'll like her. Let me give you my address."

OOOOOO

I went home to an empty apartment that night. Olivia was meeting a friend and it was so close to her place that it just didn't make sense for her to come back over. Plus I thought it was a good idea to give us space—even if it was only for the night.

My apartment still felt uncomfortably vacant and I could smell the faint hint of her musky perfume. She'd even left some of her shoes and clothes strewn about (I was shocked to learn how messy she was).

At least I had Toronto, who charged towards me when I was two steps into the apartment. He jumped up and pushed with his paws, his huge tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. He looked ridiculous, my silly dog. I burst out laughing, rubbing behind his ears and giving his snout a big smooch. 

I took Toronto out, shivering as it flurried. I grumbled to myself that the forecast had not fucking mentioned flurries. I peered up at the sky, studying its beautiful and unique shade of purple. A few people brushed past me but I ignored them. Toronto sat next to me, content to just have me near. I reached down to give him a little pet.

That's when I felt that unpleasant sensation someone was watching me. My head whipped around but I didn't spot anyone. I told myself I was being crazy, that no one was looking at me. I throughly investigated the block with my eyes and saw no one staring. That didn't account for the windows of the apartments all around us. I shuddered and walked us back home, pausing now and then to make sure no one was following. 

The blocks closer to my apartment were more crowded with people which should've been comforting, but instead it made me even more uneasy. It could be anyone, anywhere. 

My hand shook as I put the key into the lobby door. It slammed behind me, and though I knew no one could get in without a key, fear continued to pump through my body. I rushed Toronto upstairs and fumbled with the lock to my apartment. Then we were inside, into my relatively safe apartment. 

The walls appeared to be closing in on me. I hated that Olivia wasn't with me, and I hated that I needed her even more. I found my phone and wanted to call her, but it wouldn't have been fair. While I'd been out, she called me. Instead of leaving a voicemail, she sent me a little text saying she'd see me tomorrow night. It was ridiculous how much I craved her. 

There were other friends I could call, but we talked so sporadically. Our relationships weren't that strong, either, so it didn't seem like something I could talk to them about. Jackie wasn't an option, either. As much as I liked her, her mouth was far too big. All I needed was a whisper of me being paranoid going around the office.

I made Ramen and barely ate it. Afterwards I put the TV on and stared numbly at the screen before growing tired of the harsh flashing lights. Toronto followed me to the bedroom and jumped up next to me, grateful to have his side of the bed back. 

I lay there for a while, wondering what prompted me to have such anxiety. I knew no one was watching me—or at the very least, I strongly doubted it. 

But what if someone was?

I finally understood how Rose felt. I really got it that night.

It was so lonely, tragic, tiring, sad and terrifying. How she got out of bed every morning, how she carried her body to work and kept it together was beyond me. 

I remembered when I first met Rose and Felicity. Felicity had shoved some photos at me, illustrating how different Rose looked after months and months of torture. My then impersonal eye glanced at them and I thought it was a shame. A pang of remorse struck my chest. Rose was beautiful and confident in those old photos. Her dark hair was streaked with flattering blonde highlights and her skin was tanned, of course. Her smile was wide and incredible. She was the woman most girls would kill to be.

When I looked up at the Rose of today, she looked like a meek girl who had never said "no" in her life. She'd stopped dying her hair so that now it was a dull honey brown. Her red-rimmed eyes met mine and I could tell she read my thoughts from either my expression or my body language. Or maybe she was projecting and we just happened to be thinking the same thing.

"I don't have much reason to be glamorous or happy lately," she explained. Her cheeks reddened. "I know I look like shit."

I'd protested. Felicity had protested. But Rose wouldn't be persuaded.

Because the truth was she did look like shit. Dan had sucked the life out of her. He stole the bloom from her cheeks, the youthful exuberance all her files and contacts spoke about, the ability to do basic things without worrying and the carefree happiness of a girl who didn't know how dark the world could be.

As I went to bed, I made a vow I'd see Dan pay for what he'd done to her.

OOOOOO

My alarm went off the next morning. I hit snooze as many times as I could, but Toronto began whining and I knew he had to go out. 

I pulled my sore body from bed and did all my necessary chores. I was sipping my coffee when my phone rang. Olivia's name popped up on the screen. My eyebrows lifted; I was shocked she was up so early.

"Hey," I answered.

"Elizabeth." Is it possible to miss a voice? Because I'd missed her voice. "How was last night? Dinner and everything?"

"Okay." I swallowed hard, not wanting to tell her about my ridiculous freak-out. "Rose and Felicity are fine, all things considered. They're not thrilled about the whole 90 day thing."

"Neither am I," she sighed. "Your legal system confuses me sometimes."

It confused me, too.

I sat at my kitchen table and stared out the window. "How was your night?"

"Lovely. I want you to meet Eric one day. I think you two might hit it off."

"Good. I'm glad you had a nice time." There was a few seconds of taut silence. I bit my lip to keep from breaking the quiet first and saying the words that ran across my mind on repeat, but it wouldn't work. "I missed you."

Olivia didn't answer right away. Then I heard her clear her throat. "I can't believe you just said that. I didn't think you were emotionally ready for that kind of talk."

Ouch. "I'm practicing this new way of life... Saying how I feel. I like it so far."

"I missed you, too. I didn't mean to tease you."

"It's fine."

"I was patronizing you. I really am sorry."

Toronto collapsed on my feet. It was uncomfortable for me but I knew he loved it. "Are you coming over tonight?"

"May I?"

"Please. I invited Rose and Felicity over, too. I think we could all use a night of relaxation."

I could hear Olivia's smile through the phone. "That sounds wonderful."

OOOOO

Felicity didn't like dogs. She regarded Toronto with poorly disguised disgust. "He smells, doesn't he?"

"Shut up. He does not." Rose was a bit embarrassed, but I was sure at that point she was mostly used to Felicity's ways. Even I was becoming accustomed to them and wasn't insulted. Olivia, on the other hand, didn't understand the dynamic and therefore felt the need to defend both Toronto and me.

"Toronto is a splendid dog," she declared, her silky voice rising a note too loud. "He hardly smells at all, and Elizabeth would never neglect him."

I grabbed Olivia's hand and whispered, "It's okay," in her ear. She settled down a little but I could tell she didn't care much for Felicity. It amused me to an extent, especially because they shared a few qualities.

I'd ordered take-out because I didn't want to make Olivia cook and Lord knows I couldn't even make toast. We sat down at my table. The awkwardness was heavy and I could sense Rose was thinking of a way to diffuse it.

"Olivia," she began, "what do you do for a living?"

Olivia smiled kindly. "I'm an artist."

"Really? That's great. I work in publishing." She turned to Felicity and I spotted her bugging her eyes, silently begging Felicity to participate. When Felicity ignored her and grabbed a roll, Rose sighed. "Felicity is in real estate. She's really wonderful at what she does."

I wanted to do something but I wasn't sure what. This wasn't exactly going the way I'd hoped. I stared at the wine with great envy, wishing I could drink the whole bottle myself. 

Olivia must've picked up on my gloominess because she started talking. "You know, I never understood the art of real estate until I found my place. It was so much work; I have no idea how my agent managed."

"Right?" Rose laughed. It was the first time I saw her laugh. "I've asked Felicity to explain things to me before and it's just like, whoosh, over my head."

Felicity grumpily entered the conversation. "I went to school for it. If you went to school for it you could do the same thing."

"Yeah, but you're, like, amazing at it. Selling."

Felicity shrugged her shoulders and then looked between me and Olivia. "How did the two of you end up together? You don't exactly fit, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Jesus Christ, Felicity," Rose groaned under her breath.

"At one of Olivia's painting exhibits," I responded quickly in hopes of smoothing over any awkwardness. 

Olivia ran the back of her knuckles down the side of my jaw. "Yes. I was struck by Elizabeth and approached her. She was on a miserable date. I was her savior."

Was it really so simple? We shared a heated look. Yes. Yes, it was.

I blinked and tried to get back on track. Rose and Felicity were watching us knowingly. 

I turned my gaze on Felicity. "How did you two meet? You never told me."

Felicity began to smile, unable to fight it. Rose laughed again. It warmed my heart that she was getting even a little enjoyment out of this. I reached over and poured her more wine.

"Rose came to one of my friend's concerts. She was drunk and teetering around or whatever and tripped. Her entire drink went down my shirt. She tried to," Felicity broke off to laugh, "she tried to take a step back and clean me off, but she ended up tripping and landing on her knees...with her face completely in my crotch. Open-mouthed, might I add, since she was shrieking when she fell."

We all laughed—even Olivia. 

"Clearly that won me over." Felicity looked over at Rose and it was obvious that wasn't the only thing that brought and kept them together, but it was all they cared to share.

Olivia hopped up and plugged her iPhone in to put on some music. She played some fun stuff and dragged Rose out of her seat. 

"Dancing time!"

Felicity didn't know what the hell to do. She glanced at me, utterly confused.

Rose giggled as Olivia twirled her around. Felicity calmed; her entire face softened and that was a sight as strange to me as Rose smiling and laughing. It hit me how hard everything must've been on Felicity, too. I generally thought of her as a pain in the ass, and maybe she was, but she was being particularly pushy about this because she loved that girl. 

She caught me watching her and rolled her eyes. "What?"

"I know you might think you're not doing enough for her, but you are. That you're standing by her, and loving her, and trying to protect her is enough."

"Right."

"I mean it, you brat."

Felicity studied me for a beat and then swallowed the rest of her wine. "I'm terrified."

"I know."

"Sometimes I think I'm more terrified than she is."

I inhaled deeply. "Maybe you are."

Felicity poured more wine into her glass, watching me from the corner of her eye. "What if he gets off? What if he gets sentenced? There's no happy ending here." She laughed bitterly. "Do you know that her parents think she's just being too sensitive? Overreacting? They're mad she's with me. They don't get it. He makes more sense to them, even though they know he's abusive. Isn't that fucked up?"

"I think you two have a lot on your plate. Deal with her parents later. And as for those two outcomes, you're right. They both suck. But one is better than the other. Let's shoot for that." I took some more wine, too. A nice buzz was what I needed.




Afterglow Pt. 04



I looked out at Rose and my girlfriend (it was becoming fun and easy to say that) dancing, having a great time.

"Did you really get demoted?" Felicity asked.

I chugged down some wine. "Yep."

"I'm sorry I've been up your ass. I know it's not your fault. It's just hard to be calm when everything is so scary." Felicity clinked her glass with mine. "But let's make a toast to better outcomes."

Smiling, I clinked my glass against hers. "To better outcomes."

OOOOOO

A few weeks later I came home from work and stopped short when I noticed Rose sitting outside my door. The girls stopped by a few times since our dinner, once to drop off a bottle of wine as a thank you and another time to just say hello. This didn't appear to be one of those times. I walked towards her slowly and she looked up.

She stood and folded her arms over her body protectively. "He gets out tomorrow. They're letting him go a few days early."

I didn't answer, turning instead to unlock my apartment door. My thoughts were scattered and murky. How could I have lost track? How could Robert not have told me? I needed to sit down. Looking at Rose, I knew she definitely needed to sit down...and maybe a shot of vodka, too. 

Olivia wouldn't be coming by that night. We'd gotten better at spending nights apart—though neither of us liked it very much. Still, she had her work and her own place, and I think both of us were terrified of pushing ourselves too much and too fast. When I say "ourselves", I mean me. We'd also gotten into a bit of a fight earlier that week. She overheard me turning my mom down for brunch, coming up with all sorts of excuses, and confronted me. It wasn't pretty.

Rose jumped when Toronto leapt towards her. Her elbow banged into the wall and she cursed. 

"Sorry. Let me put him in the bedroom." I bent down and gave him a good belly rub to let him know he wasn't in trouble.

"No," Rose said. "He's fine. I just forgot."

I glanced at her. "Okay, if you're sure. Let me know if you change your mind. Want something to drink?"

Rose sighed and crossed the room to fall onto my sofa. "No, Elizabeth, I don't want anything to drink. I'm too furious to drink anything."

"Does Felicity know?"

Rose shook her head, eyes wide. "Hell no. Can you imagine?"

"I'm sorry. At least the trial is coming up."

"And so, if he's sentenced, he can serve 90 days? That's not really comforting, Elizabeth. I know we've been over this but I lie awake at night and just...I'm not afraid for myself anymore. It's not about me anymore."

I cocked my head, not sure what she meant. She smiled a little when she saw my face, though her face remained hard and her eyes stayed sad.

"It's different when you love somebody. That's why Felicity has been having a coronary since this whole thing started. She tries to fight so hard for me that she forgets to fight for herself. He threatened her, too, but she doesn't even care." She wiped a tear away from her eye and groaned with frustration. "I care. I care about her so much. I don't want her to be sad or worried or angry. I just want her to be happy. I hate what this is doing to her."

"Rose—"

"When he first started harassing me," she went on, "I was terrified. Terrified he was going to hurt me or humiliate me or kill me. I was scared I was going to die. Then I met Felicity. She nurtured me, loved me. Reminded me that people can be good. Love can be good." She smiled a bit. "Sex can be good." 

"I'm happy you met her," I said quietly.

Rose watched me for a moment, seemingly looking for the right words to say. "I'm not afraid of dying anymore. There are worse things than death. Seeing Felicity hurt or tormented would be the worst kind of hell for me. She could survive without me...You've seen how strong she is. I wouldn't last a day."

"I think you're selling yourself short."

Rose smirked for the first time since I'd met her. "I think you're being kind. My fire went out a long time ago. If I was being completely honest, I'd say Dan already killed a part of me when we were together. And then after, when I ran away, he did a good job of carving off another chunk." She laughed mirthlessly. "God, I used to be fun, Liz. I used to have witty things to say."

"No, Rose, come on. You are fun. You do have witty things to say. It's just going to take time to really feel it."

She got up, a small smile lingering on her face. It was a resigned smile. She believed what she said earlier, and no matter what I said I wouldn't be able to change her mind. Therapy was too slow a process for immediate benefits, but it frightened me she was slipping back into such a defeatist mindset. It broke my fucking heart. 

I closed my eyes tight, hoping more than I'd hoped for anything that Dan would get fucking shanked before being released. UnChristian, unkind, cruel. I couldn't help it. Maybe it really was a good thing I wasn't the lead on this case. 

"Thanks for listening, Elizabeth. Obviously I couldn't talk to Felicity about this, and we've distanced ourselves from most of our friends."

I stood, too, and impulsively hugged her. She was still in my arms for a moment. Then she exhaled and nearly sank into my body.

"It's going to be okay," I whispered in her ear.

She didn't respond. 

Eventually we pulled away from one another. 

"Take care of Felicity for me, okay?"

"Are you planning on running away?" I asked, trying to make a joke of it.

She was dreadfully serious. "Please?"

"Rose, nothing is going to happen."

"I know," she said, but not convincingly. She kissed my cheek. "I just want to thank you for everything you've done for me."

"Thank me when they're putting him back in handcuffs."

Rose struggled hiding her smile. "Oh, Elizabeth. Felicity was right. You have a lot of passion. Obstinate passion." She took my hand and shook it. "Thank you. Really."

"It's going to be all right," I insisted. It had to be.

"I'm not afraid of him anymore, Liz. Not on my account, anyway. Don't worry." 

She gave me one last smile—wider than any before—and pet Toronto before slipping out of my apartment.

I felt uneasy after her visit. I tried to watch TV but I couldn't focus my attention on anything people were saying. Toronto also seemed restless so we went out for a big walk, even as snow fell. We were supposed to get six inches. I rolled my eyes as young and drunk idiots skated on the ice in the middle of the streets, laughing boisterously as cabs slammed on the brakes. 

When it became too cold and too late to walk any further, we went back to my apartment. Olivia hadn't called or texted me goodnight. For once I decided to take the initiative and call her. For some reason I really, really needed to hear her voice.

"Hi," she answered. Her voice was raspy. Hmm. I'd caught her smoking one afternoon when she couldn't finish one of her paintings and we had a big argument about it.

"Have you been smoking again?"

"Ha! No. I fell asleep."

"Oh." Silence. "I'm sorry for waking you."

"It is no problem. You sound weird. Are you okay?"

I sat down and toyed with a knotted strand of hair. "I'm okay, yeah. I'm sorry for bothering you. I just..." I took a deep breath. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Baby," she whispered. "Do you want me to come over?"

"Yes, but don't. It's too late."

"It really isn't. I'll get a cab and—"

"I love you."

She didn't say anything for what felt like an eternity. "You do?" It sounded like she might be crying.

"Yes."

"And you're telling me over the phone."

"I'm sorry. You know I'm not romantic."

Olivia laughed and the sound of it radiated warmth through my body. "Yes, you are. You're the biggest romantic I know." I opened my mouth to disagree but she shut me up when she whispered, "I love you, too. So much it hurts me. So much it scares me."

"Why does everyone make love out to be so great? It's uncomfortable. I'm aching and weepy and anxious."

"You'll feel differently when you see me."

"You think?"

"You still don't want me to come over?"

I sighed. It was 1:30am. The weight of uneasiness hadn't entirely lifted from my chest, but it was a relief to tell Olivia how I felt about her. Finally. And to have her feel it back!

"No. It's too late. We both should get some sleep." She made a noise of agreement. "I love you, Olivia Beringer, you crazy artist."

"I love you, too, Elizabeth Quilty, you crazy romantic."

OOOOOO

My alarm went off. I groaned, not ready to get up yet. Blindly I reached for my phone but then I saw Jackie's name illuminated on the screen and realized I was actually receiving a phone call. It was only 4am. Nothing good happens at 4am.

"Jackie?"

"Elizabeth." So much was packed in that one word, in that utterance of my name. Something was wrong. Something terrible happened. "I thought I'd call you. They probably wouldn't want me to but—"

"What's wrong?"

Jackie sniffled. "The stalking case. Rose Sherman? She's been shot."

Everything stopped. "What?"

"That's all I know. I'm so sorry, Liz, I know you are close with them."

My fingers were ice cold as they clutched my cell. "Is she dead?"

"I don't think so. I don't know. They rushed her off to hospital."

"Her girlfriend?" I asked. My voice was eerily calm. I was in total shock, though rationally I shouldn't have been.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. They just called me to come in so I could rearrange some appointments for them this—"

"Thank you," I said abruptly before disconnecting.

I called Felicity. No answer.

I swung my legs out from under the comforter and placed my bare feet on the freezing wood floor. Toronto stretched out across the bed, knocking his hot paw against my arm. I stared out the window at the streetlight which illuminated the falling snowflakes. There was a quiet in those minutes I never wish to experience again.

Finally I gathered the fortitude to stand, to wash, to dress. I ran Toronto out and then fed him. Grabbed my keys. All mundane things, only it felt like my heart had stopped beating, that my mind and body operated on auto-pilot. 

My boots sank into the snow as I passed the rowdy late night drunk crowd and got into a yellow cab.

I told the driver to take me to the hospital. He eyed me warily and then sped off, skidding every now and then on the falling snow. 

A bit later I spied the hospital ahead, lit up like a beacon. The driver pulled me up to the ER entrance and muttered the fare. I didn't hear him and he repeated himself a few times. 

I didn't want to leave that cab. Sitting there I was blissfully ignorant. I could replay my last meeting with Rose over and over again, remember her smiling face and tell myself there was no possible way she wasn't all right. Perhaps Olivia was right when she called me a romantic. Even Rose and Felicity had teased me for my supposed passion. It would make sense to me now, since I could barely get myself to walk into the hospital and face reality.

"Miss?" the driver prodded me again, a little more fervently. I handed him the cash and stepped out onto the freshly fallen snow.

Then I headed toward the light, which I feared only held darkness.



Afterglow Pt. 05



Hey, this is (not) John Grisham. Thanks to everyone who has read, responded and voted. This was a tough piece for me; your feedback was greatly appreciated. I learned more about law than I ever thought I would, resulting in a very interesting and potentially suspicious Google history. It was worth it.

Just a note: This story is a fictionalized account of stalking and abuse. It isn't meant to romanticize this criminal behavior. Stalking is something that sends chills down my spine. If you or someone you know is going through this, please don't be afraid to seek help. There is hope.

*****

Chapter VIII: An Appeal

I hated hospitals. The smell, the sterility, the shiny floors... Soap stations were parked next to every door. Nurses walked around with cheery scrubs that somehow seemed wrong against the backdrop of the suffering. Even worse, the frantic and heavy expressions of loved ones were haunting and inescapable. 

The employees at the front desk were assholes. They gave me a hard time when I said I was there to see Rose, telling me they were supposed to receive a list of visitors and my name wasn't on it. I fought with them, getting more and more pissed until they caved. A girl called someone upstairs, gave them my name and asked for permission. When she got off the phone, she tossed me an eye-roll and told me I had to wait.

While I stood there, I prayed hard for a miracle. Life had been strangely good to me lately. For the first time in a long time my love life wasn't a punchline. I met a good woman who loved me, who patiently waited while I got over my hangups, who thought I was worth waiting for. My career wasn't going very well, obviously, but it didn't seem as important anymore. 

I wasn't so sure if I had done anything deserving of a miracle, but I got one when Olivia walked up to me that first night at the gallery and asked my opinion on her painting. It would be hard to summon yet another miracle, but I prayed and prayed, begging the universe on Rose's behalf. She needed one. She needed to survive. 




Then suddenly Rose's father was beside me, silently taking my arm. I only met Frank once before, and only briefly. I expected him to yell at me, to blame me as if I was the symbol of the system that had let him down. That had let his daughter down. Instead he nodded towards the elevator and I followed.

Once the doors closed, he exhaled and looked at me with a smile. "She's okay."

It took me a minute to realize what he'd said. Everything tingled. "What? Really?"

"She's gonna wake up. They have her under, in an induced coma, but she's gonna wake up. The bullet was in her gut. But it came in at a weird angle, so it's a shallow wound. Nasty, they said, but the bang on her head was worse. He...he hit her over the head. Hard. They say the coma is a precaution." He fidgeted. "Of course, you know, it might take some time to heal but she's okay. Alive. They might move her out of the ICU soon."

"That's...wonderful." Then I burst into tears. Her poor father had absolutely no idea how to handle me, and so he patted my shoulder awkwardly until we were finally upstairs. 

I hadn't stopped crying, but at least I wasn't wailing anymore. A tentative smile crossed my face as I followed Frank through a series of doors and hallways that didn't make much sense to me in the mood I was in. Finally we were in the ICU.

A woman who looked exactly like an older Rose—clearly her mother—talked intensely with the doctor near the nurses' station. 

Frank cleared his throat and I looked back at him. "Felicity's with her now. You should join her." I went to take a step but he put his hand on my arm. "I need to warn you. She doesn't look great, but remember she's much better than she looks. It's gonna be a long way back. That's what the doctor says."

"Thanks for the warning." I smiled and impulsively hugged him. I was just so thrilled that she was still alive, that she still had a chance. Then I let go, rubbing at my tears and laughing at Frank's uncomfortable expression. Rose had told me once her father wasn't very touchy-feely, and neither was I. Usually. "Thank you." 

Then I pushed the door open. I couldn't imagine what state Felicity was in. Rose often referred to her a hot head, and I couldn't disagree. Felicity felt with every atom she possessed. I admired her for that.

I slipped through the curtain and there was Rose, pale and nearly lifeless against the stark white sheets—not much whiter than her skin. Thank God Frank warned me.

Felicity was in a chair beside her, toying with the fingers of Rose's right hand. She looked up when she heard the sound of my footsteps and greeted me with a small smile.

I took a seat on the other side and stared at Rose.

"Rose always kinda expected to end up here. Morbid girl," Felicity eventually said. Her voice was a whisper. "She said Dan wouldn't ever let her go. That he'd rather she died than live her life without him." I glanced at her and saw she was watching me with tears in her eyes. "I feel like I was so busy telling her to be strong, reciting all that shit from online message boards and books, that I wasn't listening to her. I didn't hear what she was saying."

"There wasn't anything you could've done, Felicity." I listened to the beeping of Rose's machines for a moment. Her heartbeat on the monitor was an amazing sight to behold. "You have to give yourself a break. The world doesn't rest on your shoulders."

"I was showering. When he came. I didn't hear anything else but the gunshot. I came out and he was standing there, fiddling with the gun. He gave me such a hateful look." She took a deep breath. "I couldn't run. I couldn't scream. I just panicked, frantically scanning the room for Rose. He lifted the gun and tried to shoot. It jammed or something, I don't know. And then he ran."

"Are you going to blame yourself for showering, now?"

Her eyes slid to Rose's sleeping body. "No. I'm not. I know it's not my fault. I just keep playing the look he gave me over and over. It makes me sick."

We were silent after that. I wondered if the police had tracked Dan down yet. A dark part of me hoped he killed himself. The world wouldn't miss him. Another part of me hoped they caught him. Seeing him in jail would possibly bring satisfying closure to everyone. It would be extremely rewarding to see him trapped, to show him that he hadn't won, to taunt him with the realization that Rose would go on living her life without him. 

"What happens next?" Felicity asked. 

"He's definitely going away. There's no avoiding it."

Felicity kissed Rose's hand. 

We sat there in silence for what felt like hours. Felicity had fallen asleep with her head against the bed, her hand still clasped with Rose's. I knew I had to go. I stood and stretched, stifling the sound of a yawn behind my hand. 

"You'll keep me updated?" Felicity asked. 

I jumped. She was sitting up with bleary eyes. 

"Yes."

Felicity stood up, carefully pulling her hand away from Rose, and came around to my side of the room. She studied me for a minute, a smile creeping across her face. Before I knew what was happening, she had me in a bone-crunching hug. After a few seconds I lifted my own arms up to reach around her. 

"Thank you," Felicity breathed. "Thank you. I don't know what we would have done without you."

"I didn't do—"

"Hush. I'm actually thanking someone for once and you're spoiling it."

My eyes started watering but I commanded myself not to cry. "I wish I could've stopped him."

Felicity pulled back, a soft smile still on her face. She smoothed my hair down and then lovingly rested her palm against my cheek. "Remember how you told me to stop blaming myself earlier? I think you need to start doing that, too." She gave my face a pat. "You're wonderful, Elizabeth. You're too good for those dicks who tried to demote you. You're just right for Olivia... I'll even admit that. I'm glad you found her. And you're just right for Rose and me. You're a fantastic friend. We owe you more than you know. And we certainly don't blame you for one move you've made."

I blew out a heavy breath. "Thank you."

Felicity stepped back and returned to her chair, closing her fingers around Rose's pale hand. "Please keep us posted."

"I will," I said. "I promise."

OOOOOO

I was exhausted when I got back to my apartment. All I wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep and sleep. Unfortunately I had to go to work, and while the weight on my heart had lessened after learning Rose was going to be okay, I was still feeling the withdrawal of having so much shock and anxiety coursing through my system. I'd been so fucking terrified. It seemed impossible to go into work after the night I had, but it was imperative. Things were shaky at work, and I desperately wanted to know what Robert and Roger's plans were. 

I talked with Rose's parents before I left, offering them as much comfort as possible. They wanted answers I couldn't give them. Luckily they got in touch with Robert, and he was supposedly heading over to the hospital to talk things over. I hoped he'd be at the office soon.

Olivia called me and I told her what happened immediately.

"Dear Lord. If he isn't dragged away after this, then I give up on your country. You and I will move to Paris."

I smiled. "Paris? I could definitely live there. What would I do for a job?"

"Be serious, Elizabeth! It's a travesty that it got this far."

"He will be held accountable for this. I promise you."

She was quiet for a minute, but I could hear her breathing. "And how are you, my sweetheart? You must be so exhausted."

"I'm okay. Relieved, more than anything."

"Would it...Would it be in bad taste if we went out for a romantic dinner tonight? I know that it isn't a wonderful time for you but I'd like to tell you I love you all night long."

Her words strummed a tight string inside of me. I understood what she meant; it did seem like an unfortunate time to be celebrating while Rose lay in the hospital and Dan had yet to answer to his despicable actions. And yet it seemed so important to give ourselves this night. We'd been balled up with worry for a long time. Olivia had stood beside me through it all. Now the nightmare appeared to be ending. It was time to start looking forward. 

"I'd love to go out with you. Text me where and when, okay?"

"I love you." I could hear the smile in her voice.

"I love you, too." We disconnected. I stood there for a moment, marveling at how easy it was for me to express my feelings to her. It felt good and natural.

I didn't have much more time to linger. Toronto needed another quick walk. When we got back, I knelt down beside him and gave him another one of his favorite belly rubs. I got a nice lick on my face as thanks.

"I love you, you crazy dog!" 

Toronto stretched out and gave me those eyes that all dog owners know...that subtle "pleeeaaaasseeee" in their eyes that is so damn hard to deny. I gave him attention for another five minutes because I was happy and feeling generous but then I really had to go.

I took a quick scalding shower, pulled on an ugly but clean dress and twisted my hair into a wet bun. I glanced at my clock; I was going to be late.

Then Steve called me while I ran around my apartment, looking for a missing heel. I'd texted him earlier, asking if he knew the cops looking into the incident and if they had any information.

"Hi. Any news?"

"Yep. They have him. He went to his mother's."

"Jesus. Is he hurt?"

He sighed. "No, he's fine. He didn't resist or anything. Surrendered right away. Gave the gun up. Gave the story up. Ray told me his mom was sobbing the whole time."

"God, Steve. That makes me sad."

"They think he was so cooperative because he thought Rose was dead. They said I should've seen his face when they told him. That he screamed and screamed. Now he's freakishly silent, they say."

Good. "Has Robert been down there yet?

"No. His attorney is already here, though. We haven't been able to talk to him since he got here. Slimy prick was waiting for us. His mother called him, I guess. Still feel sorry for her?"

I picked up my bag and keys. "Yes."

Steve snorted. "Anyone protecting that piece of shit is an asshole, in my opinion."

"Mine, too, but she's his mother. She loves him." I left my apartment and headed for the subway. "Thanks for keeping me updated, Steve."

"How's the girl?"

"Not great, but she'll survive."

He cleared his throat. "I know it's none of my business—but how are things going with your friend?"

I knew immediately who he meant, and that he knew she wasn't merely a friend. I was speechless, mindlessly sidestepping people who rushed by me. A woman knocked into my shoulder with incredible force and I gasped.

"I shouldn't have asked," Steve mumbled. "It was out of line."

Jesus Christ. This was so hard. I'd "come out" to Jacqueline but I blocked out the reality I'd have to "come out" over and over again. It would be something I'd always have to explain. I knew I wanted to be with Olivia. I wasn't ashamed or flakey about it anymore and I'd made up my mind. But this was different. Steve was my friend. He was one of the best people I knew, and perhaps I was doing a disservice to him by projecting my fears of rejection and disgust onto him, but his opinion mattered a lot to me. I would be wrecked if he decided I was sick, and I couldn't handle that on top of what happened to Felicity. 

"It's okay." I took a breath. "Um, we should probably meet for drinks to discuss this, you know? I'm on my way into work and it's not something to talk about on the phone."

"Are you happy?"

My breath caught and silly tears sprang to my eyes. He didn't sound judgmental or weird at all. He sounded curious in the nicest way possible.

"Yes."

"Good," he laughed. "Then that's all that matters."

OOOOOO

My blood boiled whenever I thought about what Daniel Tierney had done. Not just the recent incident, but the fear and pain he brought to those girls' lives every day. I typed angrily, wishing Robert would show the fuck up. He hadn't answered my thousands of texts. Even Steve had stopped communicating with me. I knew he was busy and he didn't have much involvement with the case, but he was the best contact I had.

Robert strolled in around noon. I was on him immediately and he rolled his eyes.

"Can I at least have a fucking cup of coffee?"

"No. What happened?"

He rubbed at his stubble and studied me. "Don't you have work to do? What are you going to do once this case gets resolved?"

"Robert, I thought we understood each other." My eyes narrowed with my unspoken threat. 

He cleared his throat. "Obviously we'll be pursuing the correct charge. I'm waiting to hear back about a court date."

"Have you seen Landon?"

Rob gulped down his coffee and shook his head. He picked up a file and read it, ignoring me. Unfortunately for him, I could be a big pain in the ass when I wanted to be.

"I can't believe he hasn't contacted you."

Robert looked up from the file with exasperation. "He left me a message but I haven't gotten back to him yet, okay? God."

The rest of the day passed without incident. I texted Felicity a few times and she responded, assuring me everything had stayed the same. She even added that the doctor was saying Rose might come out of it in a few days. 

Olivia texted me saying she'd meet me at my place and we'd go to the restaurant together. I went home with a bit of a buzz, not completely aware of the world around me. In fact, I found myself surprised when I was back in my apartment building. It had been a wild day.

When I got to my floor, I spotted Olivia leaning against my apartment door. It occurred to me how silly it was she didn't have a key, yet, and made a mental note to give her a copy. She grinned when I headed towards her, and then reached for me when I was close enough to touch. I felt an intense, invisible tug towards her. Her smile dimmed, and my own thrilled excitement shifted into quiet but forceful desire.

She licked her pink lips. My body grew hotter when her arms wrapped around my waist and her hands clutched my ass. "How are you doing?"

I took a deep breath. "Honestly? I have a headache. And all of this feels like a dream."

Olivia stroked my side. The tickling sensation increased my pulse. "What does, Elizabeth?"

"You. Felicity and Rose. Rose surviving. Dan finally being punished. Me losing my job."

She blinked. "So, your whole life, you mean? And you lost your job?"

"No, but it's only a matter of time. I can't focus on my work anymore and I've completely lost respect for Roger."

"Quit." Olivia drew me tighter against her soft, comforting curves. "You can do anything you want to."

"I'm afraid," I said in a small voice. "I don't know where to start."

She smiled, tracing my lips with her fingers. "Let's start with feeding your dog. Then we can go to dinner. Afterwards I'll eat you out all night until you are relaxed. Maybe I'll even draw you."

My pussy was ready for her even then. I could see her nipples pressing against the fabric of her dress and imagined she was feeling the same. I zipped up her coat, giggling a little at her puzzled and somewhat affronted expression.

"You know your nipples are my Achilles heel." Her smile returned and I gave her a quick peck. She was grinning when I pulled away. "Plus, stop calling Toronto my dog. He's your dog, too."

Her stare became intense and she lifted her hands up to my breasts. I couldn't feel much through my coat, but it didn't matter. 

"I can't wait to have my tongue inside of you."

My eyes closed. "Step one: feed Toronto."

We did all of the little tasks we needed to do. We got to the restaurant around 9 and were thankfully placed in an intimate corner. 

Once we ordered and had wine in front of us, Olivia began speaking. "Tell me about Rose. And Felicity. She must be crazy with worry."

"I still don't know exactly what happened and I didn't want to pry yet, but he shot her in the stomach. That's probably one of the worst places to be shot, but luckily it wasn't very deep. It hit her at a weird angle or something. Then she somehow got a head wound. It was enough damage for them to induce a coma."

Olivia took a big drink of wine. "But she's okay?"

"They think so. It's going to be tough, I think."

"And he's in jail?"

I nodded. "He'll appear before the judge sometime in the next few days. Robert is being purposely vague, the little shit."

Olivia ran her finger around the rim of her glass, something she always did when she was thinking. "Unbelievable. I always think back to the first night I met you. He was your date. I remember spotting him with you and thinking... Well, I'm not sure what I thought. It was baffling to me someone like you would spend time with him."

I smirked. "I'll never get why you were so interested in me right away. You always say it was because of the painting but I don't believe you."

She looked down at her hands. It was always an interesting sight to see Olivia nervous. "You never asked me who our mutual friend was."

"What?"

Her eyes flicked up to mine. "Our mutual friend," she repeated. "How did you think I got your address? To send you the painting?"

My face scrunched up with confusion. "What are you talking about?" I tried to remember, and did recall her sending me the painting but...Yes. I remembered the note. "No, I didn't. I forgot about it. Who was it?"

"A man. William Donovan? He worked with you once, he said."

"Oh, Jesus." He was an ex-boyfriend of mine. I'd dumped him because he always whined about my hours. He was great, better to me than he probably should have been, but I didn't think either of us believed we were meant to be together. He was a writer so it made sense he was part of her crowd. "He did. And we dated."




Afterglow Pt. 05



Olivia gave me a shy grin. "Yes. I know. He caught me staring at you. I told you I kept studying people's responses to it. It was my best work, in my opinion. It amused me this little uptight lawyer was staring with a bit of understanding. I didn't know you were a lawyer yet, of course."

"But you knew I was uptight." I tried not to be insulted but it stung a little.

Olivia shrugged. "Wasn't I right?" She swallowed the rest of her wine. "William saw you and mentioned you were an ex-girlfriend. Told me what you did. He laughed at me, telling me I was absolutely crazy to send you the painting. To 'woo' you, I think he put it. He gave me your address anyway. I wanted to see what was under your modest dress. I wanted to muss up your hair. I wanted to make you forget about meetings and have you constantly frazzled. When I went over to talk to you, I wanted to kiss you even more. There was depth to you and I felt an instant attraction." She signaled to the waitress for another glass of wine. "So there you have it. I was in love with you almost right away."

I took her hand. Her anxious eyes met mine, only relaxing when she saw my calm smile. I kissed her palm, and then just to be a bitch about the "uptight" statement, I gave it a little lick. She gasped and I drew back laughing.

"Not so uptight anymore, right?"

"That depends. Are you going to introduce me to your parents?"

Fear rolled through my stomach. She stared at me, waiting for me to unfreeze and answer.

It was a terrifying prospect. While I doubted my parents would start stoning us, I was quite sure they would be extremely upset. It would take them a long time to get used to the idea. 

But there was no going back. We met during a crazy time in my life. There was a lot of pressure on me, and with someone else it might not have worked. In fact, I doubt anyone would have been able to bear all of that misery with me. 

It didn't matter what our sex was, or that she was older, or that I'd never really enjoy her friends' parties and she'd never understand why I couldn't wave a magic wand and make everything right in the world. We loved each other. 

My lips curved into a toothy grin. "Absolutely. I'll call Mom and set something up for this weekend. What do you think?"

Olivia choked on her piece of bread.

OOOOOO

We were both buzzed when we got home. The headiness of being around each other without the dark cloud of anxiety and uncertainty, mixed with the few rounds drinks we had, made us giggly and immature. We took turns smacking the other's ass as we climbed the stairs, chasing the other and nearly falling down every time our heels twisted. 

Toronto barely looked up when we came bursting inside the apartment, tearing off each other's clothes.

"I brought something special for us tonight," Olivia breathed. 

I ripped her bra off and immediately bent my head to suck one of her breasts. Her entire body was beautiful to me, but the sight of her round breasts with those hard berry nipples drove me wild. Her hands flew up to my head, pushing me closer to her chest.

Eventually she sighed and stepped away. "Take the rest of your clothes off and sit on the couch."

A flare of excitement rose from the tips of my toes all the way to the top of my head. I pushed off my underwear and hopped on the couch. I watched Olivia slowly pull her panties off, bending over so I could see the delicious plumpness of her ass and the barest hint of her pussy below. She spun around and dug into her purse. She pulled out a long dildo with dramatic flair, grinning at me. 

"What the hell is that?" 

"A dildo, darling. Duh."

"What do you—"

"Shut up." She straddled me. "It's double-sided. We can fuck each other at the same time with it." She took the head of it and pushed it through my slippery lips. She stroked me like that for a few speechless minutes, nudging the head against my clit every now and then. I was humping my hips upward, desperate for more. Olivia merely smiled. 

"Please," I heard myself beg. 

She adjusted it so that it began vibrating. With a lusty moan, she plunged it inside of me. I tossed my head back, feeling incredibly tight but so wet at the same time. She pushed and pushed until it was deep. 

Everything on my body was insanely sensitive. She ran her fingers up my sides that prickled with goosebumps. Then she touched my breasts.

"Olivia," I sighed.

Her eyes moved to meet mine but she didn't answer. Her thumbs occasionally brushed against my nipples. Then she dropped one hand down between us, sliding it against my clit before grasping the dildo and thrusting it inside of me slowly but deeply. It vibrated against my walls; already I thought I might come. Her mouth swallowed one of my tits after a little bit and I nearly cried. My mouth was open in a silent scream, begging her with my wandering hands to give me more. My hand went to her ass and then twisted around her hips to play with her soaked pussy. She gasped into my nipple which sent a tremor of pleasure down my spine.

After a few minutes she sat up straight and quickly dropped down onto the other side of the dildo. She screamed when she felt it pulsating inside her. I looked down at the image of us completely touching while we fucked ourselves with the vibrating plastic cock. 

"I'm going to come," I moaned. "Now."

Olivia sped up which also drove the dildo inside of me more quickly. It was absolutely maddening to hover over that precipice, knowing that you're about to orgasm any minute, craving and dreading that unbearable pleasure. 

I looked up at Olivia. Her eyes were shut, her mouth hung open and her long hair clung to her body with sweat. I hugged her around her waist, bringing her closer to me so that our breasts touched. Olivia's eyes opened and I knew it was time. She gave me a sloppy, searching kiss that instantly made all the sensations sharper. 

I exploded, feeling my wetness coat the plastic cock and even my couch. Everything felt drenched. It was so divinely dirty.

Olivia apparently wasn't far behind. She kept fucking the dildo, which in turn kept fucking me. The vibrations were almost too much. My orgasm was fading so I focused on getting Olivia off. I squeezed her breasts, pinched her nipples and nibbled her throat. One hand circled her clit, which was finally the last straw.

She orgasmed with unbelievable force, clenching my shoulders and riding the dildo as hard as she could.

Then it was over. She moved off of me, carefully taking the dildo out, and switched it off. She sucked the side that had been inside of me, never taking her eyes off of me. Seeing her pink lips around the head, knowing she was tasting me, was so fucking erotic that I thought I might be able to come again.

Olivia smiled as if she knew what I was thinking. She clutched my sweaty thigh and leaned over to kiss me. When she pulled away, she touched my face. 

"No," she panted, "you're not so uptight anymore."

Chapter IX: Your Honor

I felt a bit giddy the next morning. Jacqueline spotted me coming into the office and rushed over to chat with me.

We talked a little about Felicity and Rose. She asked if I had any update, but I hadn't heard from Felicity since the night before. 

Then Jackie smiled wickedly at me. "Someone got laid last night."

"You know," I began, pouring milk into my coffee, "I always hated that expression."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Things are good with the artist?"

I couldn't help the blissful smile that spread across my face. Jackie rolled her eyes but she smiled, too.

Robert came into the kitchen, his gaze moving over us. "Before you ask, Elizabeth, there's nothing fucking new."

I knew he could go with a few options, particular Attempted Murder or Assault. The first would carry a term of no less than fifteen years, so it would probably be fifteen years to life. The other was trickier. He could get as little as 5 years, or possibly 25. 

"You have no court date? No plan?"

He put a donut in his mouth with a roll of his eyes and walked out. I followed. 

Roger stood talking with Landon Fontaine. My body tightened. Robert pulled the donut out of his mouth and greeted him, shaking his hand. I felt sick.

Landon caught sight of me and gave me one of his asshole smiles. "Liz. How are you, sweetheart? It's been ages."

It really hadn't been. Fucker. I fought the urge to curl my lips. "Fine. Yourself?"

"Oh, I've had better days. Very unfortunate, what's happened to your friend."

"Let's move to my office," Roger cut in. He didn't bother to glance at me, but Robert gave me a smug look. 

They were in there for forever. I gnawed at my nails, unable to even pretend like I was working. The three of them eventually came out, laughing with each other. I overheard them talking about lunch. The might as well have been smoking cigars and palming their crotches.

I couldn't stop myself. I jumped over and approached them. "What's the plan of action to keep him off the street?"

Roger shook his head, Robert stared at me and Landon watched with slight amusement. 

"That's none of your business at this time, Ms. Quilty," Roger said. Robert wasn't able to stifle his snort. 

"I feel terrible for how this turned out," Landon said with his practiced politeness. His eyes peered at me with what I'd almost think was genuine sympathy if I didn't know him better. "No one wanted things to work out like this."

I looked at Roger. "What are you charging him with?"

"Jesus, she doesn't stop," Rob groaned. He shakes his head when I look at him. "We're filing for Aggravated Assault and are considering a plea agreement with Mr. Fontaine due to problems with Mr. Tierney's medications. He has been sick for a while now and we're suspecting the medication issues contributed to his violence. Happy now?"

My mouth dropped. I looked from Roger to Robert. "That can't possibly be the best you can do. You're factoring in his medication... What, did you make a plea for insanity? This is fucking insanity. He isn't crazy, you asshole."

Roger took an imposing step towards me. "I think we will have to continue this discussion when I come back from lunch."

There was a heavy silence. All of the work I'd done, the years I put in under Roger, the respect I'd had for him...and yet now we were strangers. He was a little man in my eyes. That I ever idolized him ashamed me, and made me feel terribly for my father. They'd once been good friends. I dreaded telling Dad that Roger had lost his decency somewhere along the lines, if he'd ever been respectable. 

This wasn't just about him being an asshole. It wasn't even just about Rose and Felicity anymore. This had become incredibly personal. Dan Tierney had messed up my life, too. He threatened me, terrified me, hurt people who had become important to me. To see these people whose job it was to seek vengeance so cavalierly dismiss our suffering made me nearly blind with rage. 

"That won't be necessary," I said. I swallowed and straightened my spine. "I'm resigning."

I began walking away, ignoring all the eyes on me, but then I paused. It was petty, but it was the only weapon I had. And I felt like doing something petty, even if it would only take the edge off for a little bit.

I looked back and met Roger's eyes. "By the way, Roger. Something you should know that's been eating at me. Robert fucked your wife. Almost all of us know about it. Thought you might like to know, sir."

I didn't bother waiting for his reaction. Instead I went to my desk and gathered a few of my personal things. I stalked out of the office, tying desperately not to cry.

OOOOOO

Olivia ran the soaked cloth up my back. "Are you sure you have to go back there for another two weeks?"

"No. It might be easier to say he fired me. He was going to, anyway."

"Will you tell them—Felicity—about the deal?"

The thought killed me. "I don't know. No."

She kissed the corner of my mouth. Then she went on, bathing me as she knelt beside the tub. She ran the washcloth against my nipples. I felt a detached sort of arousal. I asked her to join me a few times but she kept saying she wanted it to be about me.

"I went to visit Rose today."

I gathered my knees to my chest and rested my chin on top. "You did?"

"Felicity says it might take longer to revive her than anticipated. She was fighting with one of the nurses when I got there. I invited her over here but she doesn't leave Rose's side." She massaged my back.

My eyes shut. "Hmm."

"I love you, Elizabeth."

I opened my eyes and looked at Olivia. Her eyes were dark and filled with tenderness. "I love you, too."

OOOOOO

It snowed that Saturday. The stoop to my parents' apartment was very icy. I took Olivia's hand and gingerly helped her up the steps. I rang their bell and smiled when I caught Olivia plucking the skirt of her dress nervously.

The door buzzed and I opened it, letting her walk inside first. I never saw her so nervous before. She'd left her long dark hair down and she had gone easy on the makeup. I told her she looked the prettiest I'd ever seen her. She tried to smile.

We were quiet on the elevator—she didn't want to hear any more of my assurances that my parents would love her because she didn't believe me and she said I was getting annoying—but I took her hand and squeezed.

I'd already told my parents I was bringing a woman with me. It had been an interesting conversation with my mother.

"You're telling me over the phone?"

I felt bad. "Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't really think."

"No, you didn't. Are you sure this isn't just a phase?"

"No," I'd said firmly. "Why is it that when guys turn gay, it's like, 'Oh, he's definitely gay' but when a girl says she's a lesbian people are like, 'It's just a phase!'" 

"I don't know, Elizabeth, and I certainly didn't mean it in an anti-feminism way so spare me. I barely hear from you, hardly see you in months, and you call me to tell me you have a girlfriend. I apologize I'm not reacting the way you wanted me to. I never knew my daughter was a lesbian so give me a fucking break."

Then I'd felt really shitty. "I'm sorry, Mom. I just didn't know what to do. But I know that I really want you to meet her."

So lunch was set up. I figured my mother told my dad, so that would be interesting. Also, in a morbid and selfish way, I wanted to take my mind off Dan Tierney pacing his jail cell and Rose Sherman lying in bed with a machine breathing for her.

I still didn't know if the deal between Robert and Landon was officially struck. Jackie couldn't tell me one way or the other because of course she went on fucking vacation that week.

Mom was standing outside their apartment, holding open the door. She put on a brave smile when she saw us step off the elevator. One arm waved us forward while the other held the door open. 

Olivia nodded and smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Quilty."

"Call me Anne," Mom said automatically. She tried to hold on to the bright smile she must've practiced, but it began to slip. "Please come in."

Mom didn't look at me.

We walked inside and there was my father. He held a bottle of wine in his hands. 

"Hello. I'm Matt."

"Hello," Olivia whispered. Her palm was sweating.

"Wine?" Dad asked.

I cleared my throat. "Please."

Mom silently brought out some appetizers and sat down. Everyone took a seat. The clock in the room ticked as we desperately tried to think of something to say.

Dad shifted so that he could get a better look at Olivia. "I googled you. I must say I love your work. I'm not really much of an art guy but I liked it."

Olivia held on to her wine glass so tightly I feared it might break. "Thank you."

"Olivia and I met at one of her shows," I said, trying to hide my discomfort and probably failing.

Mom and Dad looked at me for the first time. 

"I loved one of her paintings and we started talking. She's very inspiring."

Mom looked away and sipped her wine. Dad cleared his throat and ventured into what he thought was a safe topic. 

"How's work, Lizzie?" 

Shit. My heart pounded. "I quit. Or was fired. Depends on who you talk to. I was contacted yesterday that I'm getting a package, so whatever."

Dad had to put his glass down. Mom's head spun in my direction, her eyes wide and horrified.

"What the hell is going on?" Dad demanded to know.

"It's a long story."

Dad's eyebrows lifted in that frightening way that used to scare the crap out of me as a kid. It still did.

"I was in charge of a stalking case. The guy was represented by Landon Fontaine, so there was my first problem." Dad rolled his eyes. He knew Landon pretty well, too. "A few minor errors were made, but just enough that Roger could take me off the case. I became friends with the girl—Rose— and her partner. Roger and Robert weren't happy about it. And the guy ended up almost killing Rose, who is still in a coma. He's only getting charged with Aggravated Assault, the lesser charge." I looked down at the carpet because I was a little embarrassed over what I'd done next. "Roger acted so fucking superior and shitty that I couldn't take it anymore and I told him his wife cheated on him with Robert."

Mom gasped. Dad's stare melted through my flesh and bone. 

"Roger hadn't wanted me on the case, I don't think. I believe there was a little favoritism going on. And I had the potential to be a pain in the ass over it. He underestimated my friendship with Rose. And her girlfriend, Felicity."

Now Dad's eyes bulged. Mom looked like she might faint.

"You just happened to be working with a lesbian couple?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, weird, right? I take it as a sign."

Mom put down her wine glass. "God, I'm friends with Roger's wife. How will I ever face her again?"

"She's the one who slept with vermin, Mom, not you."

Mom stood up. "We can't all be so righteous, Elizabeth." Then she burst into tears.

My dad got up and gathered her close. I looked over at Olivia who appeared to be near tears, too. This wasn't going well.

"Maybe we should go," I said. 

Mom pulled away from Dad and rubbed her eyes, smearing mascara all over. "No. I made duck, damn it."

She rushed to the kitchen and started slamming pots and pans around. 

Dad settled down and gazed at Olivia. "I apologize for all of this. We haven't had time to acclimate. And Lizzie called Anne on the phone, from what I've heard, to...explain this. My wife doesn't deal well with such surprises."

"I completely understand," Olivia said in a hushed voice.

I felt terrible. Nothing seemed to be going right for me. Olivia took her hand out of my grasp. If she was pissed at me, too, then I would have to give up.

Mom came out, still crying. "Lunch is fucking served."

Lunch passed as you might've expected it would pass. No one spoke. No one even bothered to try starting a conversation. We were content with our discontentment; talking would only make it worse. That fucking clock continued ticking in the distance, each mark of another silent second driving me closer to losing my temper. 

Mom mostly drank, ignoring the generous amount of food Dad had put on her plate. Olivia kept her eyes down, staring at the duck as if it held all of life's answers. 

I had enough.

"I'm sorry that none of this is going like you've planned."

Mom looked up and wiped her eyes.

"Maybe we should come back another day."

Mom's body relaxed for the first time since we'd arrived. "No, don't go," Mom sighed, blowing her nose. "It's just... such a big step for me. But please don't leave."

"I think we should. I don't want to keep upsetting you." I took Olivia's hand under the table. "Olivia wanted to meet you guys, and I wanted you to meet her, but I don't want to push you if you're not ready. That wouldn't be right."

Mom glanced at Olivia. "I'm sorry. It's just that Elizabeth wasn't answering her cell for the longest time and—"




Afterglow Pt. 05



"She's a pain in the ass," Olivia cut in, squeezing my hand. I recognized that little amused glint in her eyes and stopped holding my breath. "I know all about it. But this was a big step for her, too."

My parents looked at each other. They shared some unspoken understanding and then faced us again.

"So why don't you tell us how you met again?" Mom asked, clearing her throat. 

OOOOOO

I helped Mom clean the dishes. We didn't talk to each other, though there was a great deal we wanted to say. Mom snuck peeks at me now and then. I tried to think of a way to say "Sorry I came out to you on the phone, and sorry I basically avoided you for months" but it wasn't as easy as one would expect.

Finally Mom turned the faucet off and turned to me. "You look happy."

"I do?"

Mom nodded and smiled a little. "I can see why you like her."

I fidgeted and picked at my nail polish. "I love her."

"I know." Mom looked out into the living room, grinning when she saw my father going off about politics to poor Olivia. "She's a great woman."

"I'm sorry for how I handled all this." 

Mom sniffed and gave me a hug. "I don't think there's a rule book, Liz."

I couldn't believe my mother was being so understanding. It shouldn't have been surprising, though; she'd loved me fiercely all my life, no matter what I did. It really was just the issue of getting used to it.

When she pulled away, she wiped at some more tears. I found myself crying, too. I rubbed my face with annoyance. "God, I keep crying lately. Everything changed all at once. Sometimes I can't catch my breath."

"You will. For now, just try to enjoy yourself. Let yourself off the hook." She peeked out at Olivia once again and gave me a wide smile. "She's good for you. I can tell. You're glowing."

My hands went up to cover my cheeks. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Mom shook her head and poured the coffee. "Now shut up and help me bring these out."

Later when we were leaving, my mother kissed Olivia on the cheek and made her promise to come around more often. Dad seemed to really like her, too.

He pulled me aside before we left. "Are you sure it wasn't all a misunderstanding with Roger?"

I hated this. It felt like I was telling a kid Santa didn't exist. But my father wasn't a child, and he needed to know. "I'm sure. I've never been so disappointed in someone in my whole life."

Dad gave me a hug, which was a bit unusual for him. "You'll find another job. A better job."

"I know."

He pulled away and pushed my hair back. "I'm glad you're seeing someone, Lizzie. Especially someone as intelligent and kind as Olivia. Your mom and I will try really hard to get used it, okay? We already see how different you are with her."

I smiled. "Thank you, Dad."

OOOOOO

Olivia didn't say much when we got home. She asked if I wanted her to cook or if I wanted to order out. When I said I didn't care, she called for a pizza and pet Toronto. 

After we'd eaten and Toronto was taken care of, the three of us spread out on the couch and watched TV. I must've been falling asleep because Olivia poked me. We turned off everything and curled into one another when we got into bed.

I was nearly asleep when Olivia spoke.

"Your parents were wonderful. They love you very much."

My eyes fluttered open. Olivia leant on her elbow, watching me from above. 

"They liked you. I can tell."

Olivia smiled, her teeth glinting in the faint light through the curtains. We listened to traffic for a few minutes. One of Olivia's hands rubbed my stomach.

"I can't believe this is happening."

Olivia didn't take her eyes away from the hand that now tickled the skin just above my panties. "What is happening?"

"We're really a couple. You know what I mean? We're not just...experimenting, or even just dating, are we?"

She bent her head to lay a gentle kiss on my shoulder. "No."

Her fingers slipped in and out of the top of my panties until they eventually rested just beneath the fabric. 

I reached up carefully, terrified for no reason at all, and stroked her hair. Her eyes met mine. "I'm so glad I met you. I didn't know it then, but I needed you. Badly."

Olivia smiled. "I needed you, too."

Her hand lowered, sinking between my thighs.

Chapter X: The Verdict

Felicity called the next morning.

She was already on my mind. The next day was the hearing—Jackie texted me to remind me—and I was torn about going. Obviously I wouldn't go into the courtroom, but even hanging around in the hallways seemed uncomfortable. I didn't want to run into Robert, Roger or Landon. And I hated the idea of being in any kind of proximity to Dan.

I wanted to call Felicity and see if she wanted to go. Clearly Rose couldn't. But I was procrastinating, partly because I was so tired of dealing with heavy stuff and mostly because I wasn't sure if I should tell her about Robert's decision and the disappointing amount of time Dan could potentially serve. 

I craved a little domesticity, so I lazed around with Toronto while Olivia painted. I didn't understand how she could possibly be comfortable painting in my cramped living room but what the fuck did I know? Craigslist ads for jobs were glaring me back in the face. That's just when my phone vibrated. I recognized the number and answered immediately.

"Rose is out of the coma!" she wept.

My heart jumped with excitement. "How wonderful!"

Felicity took a deep, excited breath. "She's very out of it and still on a lot of drugs but she's looking around and talking and everything. The cops were here. Even that douche Robert was here."

Goosebumps rose up from my arms. "Robert?"

"Yup. He's an asshole. He was fine to us, though, just telling us about where we all go from here."

"He...he told you about the charges? The sentence?"

She sighed. "Yes. Don't get me started. I'm NOT happy about it, but I have too much to be happy about right now to let it affect me."

"I know. I just—"

"Elizabeth? Stop worrying. What's done is done. 5 years is nothing when you look at the damage he's caused, but it is something. I'm raging about it, too, but right now we have more important things to do. And he says they're still deliberating Landon's plea deal so there is still hope. So come see us, bring Olivia, and buy the best champagne you can."

I found myself smiling. "When did you get so zen?"

She snorted. "See you soon."

I told Olivia the good news. She cried and clapped her hands. Then we got ready, bought a classy enough bottle of champagne and took a cab to the hospital.

Rose's parents were waiting outside when we came to the door. I introduced Olivia and they were very polite. Felicity saw we were there and dragged us in, ripping the bottle of champagne from my hands.

And there was Rose. She was so, so pale resting against white sheets. Her cheekbones pressed against the skin of her face so hard as if they wanted to escape. Her lips were cracked and her arms were merely white sticks poking out from beneath her pink blanket. Part of her face was bandaged, presumably where he struck her, and her face was nearly unrecognizable because of other wounds.

Simmering, hot rage bubbled in my stomach once again after seeing what Dan did. 

"Elizabeth and Olivia! I'm so glad you're here."

I got close to her and took her cold hand into mine. "We are happy to be here."

Felicity handed me a plastic cup with champagne. We toasted to Rose's health. The conversation turned to surgeries, of which Felicity surprisingly knew a great deal. Even Olivia was fascinated. I daydreamed until I realized Rose was staring at me.

"Felicity told me," she whispered. 

My heart sank. I didn't have to ask what. "I'm so sorry."

"Even if he's only given 5, we'll figure it out." She nodded to herself as if she was attempting to convince herself. Her head fell back against the pillow; she looked unbelievably exhausted. 

"Let's not worry about that yet. He's going to get what he deserves somehow."

Her lips twitched into a tiny smile. "You're so fierce sometimes." I smiled and she took my hand again. "I love you. For everything you've done."

I was too choked up to respond.

The nurse came in at some point, looking less than thrilled over how many people were crowding the room. She checked Rose out while we all watched in silence. When she finished with a smile, we could all breathe again.

I noticed that Rose's parents actually talked to Felicity and seemed to be a lot more accepting to her now than before, based on what the girls used to tell me. Her parents seemed worn out. They had never believed Dan was as big a threat as Rose said. It must've been a rude, rude awakening for them when they received that terrible phone call in the middle of the night-that call all parents dread.

A few minutes later I glanced at Rose. She'd fallen asleep. Some color had touched her cheeks, thank God, so she finally looked alive and semi-well to me. I checked the monitors from time to time, sometimes becoming entranced with her pulse. Sadly Rose looked like shit. I knew the prognosis was good but it was difficult to remember that, at some point, she'd be walking out of the hospital on her own two legs. 

The sentence Dan Tierney would likely receive was unjust and dangerous. To think he could possibly serve a mere 5 years was disturbing and disheartening. Yet both girls—Rose and Felicity—loved each other and became even stronger because of their feelings. They were still scared, and still angry, but they'd already faced the worst thing that could happen and they'd emerged on the other side. They would always be haunted, but now they absolutely knew they could handle it because they had each other. It was time to rebuild.

Olivia touched my shoulder. "Shall we go?" she whispered.

I got up and said goodbye to everyone gently. Felicity grasped my hand and gave me a teary smile.

"You probably didn't get a chance to talk to her long, but isn't it wonderful?"

"Better than wonderful. Any news on what they plan to do with her next?"

"The stomach is the most important thing. They don't want to tear anything because the risk of bleeding is so high. Her head is still banged up but the doctors think it's okay."

I nodded. I almost wasn't going to say anything but I turned to get one last look at Rose. The sight of her provoked me. "Tomorrow is the sentencing hearing. Would you like to go? We'll linger outside."

Felicity sucked in her breath. "Oh, my God. I have to go into work for a little tomorrow... What time is it?"

"10am."

She looked around, her gaze skittering over Rose like mine had a second before. "I'll be there."

OOOOOO

It was absolutely freezing outside the courthouse. We could've waited inside but Felicity was indulging in one of her guilty pleasures: smoking.

"I can't believe how cold it is," she said. She lit another cigarette.

"And Spring is around the corner," I mumbled. I pulled the collar of my coat up and tilted my head back, studying the slate-colored sky. 

Felicity flicked some ash off the tip of her cigarette. "Jeez. I heard it's supposed to snow tonight."

I knew what we were doing—idle, trivial chitchat to pass the time and make the wait (somewhat) bearable. It wasn't going well, at least not for me. I wanted to pace the slick floors of the halls, I wanted to hear the faint voices coming from the courtroom inside, I wanted to be near the action. No, it wasn't any better or productive than standing outside in the cold, but that didn't matter.

I waved away some of the smoke from the cigarette with a frown.

She switched her cigarette from one gloved hand to the other. "You really disapprove of smoking, don't you?"

"I disapprove of anything that kills people, yeah. Olivia does it sometimes when she thinks I don't notice and it makes me furious. I have her on another nicotine patch now, actually."

She smiled. "I sneak sometimes, too. It's a powerful urge. Funny how puffing on something can be so comforting. I read something some time... Something about the mouth? The repetitive nature? And the nicotine, yeah, but not everyone who's smoked has become addicted, right?"

I rubbed my hands together. "Well, I certainly can't begrudge you for smoking today, so whatever." I watched her for a minute. "It's flirting with death. I think that's a big compulsion, too."

Felicity studied me as she dropped the cigarette and twisted her foot on top of it. "You're antsy. You want to go inside, don't you?"

"Yes."

Felicity groaned and rolled her eyes. "God, fine! You're a huge pain in the ass. Let's go."

I followed, a small smile forming. We sat on a bench outside and waited. And waited. Felicity toyed with her phone. I stared the doors, willing them to open. It didn't usually take that long.

And then they did. A surprising flood of people came outside, talking enthusiastically. Robert was suddenly there, clutching his suitcase with a grim expression. He caught sight of me almost immediately. His face grew darker but he said nothing. He walked by without another look. Then I saw Jake, one of the other attorneys that didn't get as much of a chance to show his talents. I wondered what he was doing there. 

Landon strolled out, a huge smile on his face. That never meant anything one way or another; Landon was the best at the art of positive spin. He spotted me sitting next to Felicity; his eyes roamed over us, probing for secrets. 

He walked over and for some reason I stood up. I wanted to immediately ask what the sentence was but I didn't want to get the information from Landon. Petty, sure, but I couldn't help it.

He started speaking as soon as I was in earshot. "I never had the chance to tell you how much I appreciated you sticking up to Roger. The man has deserved something like that for a long, long time."

I rubbed my palms against my skirt and tried not to freak out or punch him. "What do you want, Landon?"

His smile turned sweeter. Friendlier. He looked around my body and said hello to Felicity.

"And how is your friend? I apologize—I haven't been able to check her condition lately."

"She's my GIRLFRIEND," Felicity spat. "And she's still fucking alive. Be sure to pass that on to your client."

Landon stood straighter, seemingly unaffected by Felicity. "Well, I know you've never thought highly of me, Ms. Quilty, though I've never been sure why. I represent the opposite team, that's true, but I've always respected your work."

I regarded him with intense suspicion. 

He licked his lips and carefully ran a hand over his blonde hair. "As for your earlier question, I don't want anything from you. I'm offering you something." He smiled when he saw me scowl. "I mean it. I've always appreciated your approach and understanding of the law. There is a place for you within my firm. I would be absolutely honored if you'd consider working with me for a while."

"No."

His eyebrows lifted but I didn't think he was that surprised. "So quick an answer. My well-meaning offer isn't even worth a moment of thought?"

"Give me a break, Landon."

He grinned. "You see right through me, Elizabeth. I think that's why I like you so much." He put his leather briefcase on the bench next to Felicity so he could put his coat on. His eyes never left mine. "He's serving fifteen years without the chance of parole. Does that warm you up a little?"

Felicity failed to stifle a gasp. I couldn't move. "Fifteen?"

"Not the twenty-five you were hoping, I'm sure, but you must be pleased."

"They didn't take the plea," I whispered. The relief poured through my blood like a cup of fine, smooth red wine.

"No. The case was handed over to Jake, who I've only worked with a few times, by the way. Robert came today as a formality. The judge almost didn't let them switch but eventually he caved. Maybe he, too, was tired of Robert."

I realized I was smiling and crying all at once. It should have embarrassed me to be crying in front of Landon but I just didn't care. My legs gave out, forcing me to plop beside a sobbing Felicity. 

Landon smirked down at me.

"You just like seeing girls cry," I said.

"Possibly," he agreed with a laugh, straightening his tie. "The offer is serious, however. Keep it in mind. I'd enjoy having a scrappy girl like you on my side."

He picked up his briefcase and disappeared.

Felicity pushed my shoulder. "Did he really say what I think he did? Fifteen years?"

For the first time in a long time, my grin was wide and genuine. "Yes!"

"I might pass out," she whispered. Our eyes met and we started giggling like giddy little girls.

I could breathe. We all could.

We walked out of the courthouse feeling warm vindication. I wouldn't have spotted her if Felicity hadn't stopped us for one last cigarette—"Just to celebrate! Then I'm done, I swear. Don't tell Rose."

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and watched the chaos of people walking each way, yellow taxis riding the tails of cars in front of them, people trying to sell shitty knock-off purses. I smelled hot pretzels cooking from the corner and my mouth-watered. I turned to Felicity to suggest we grab one and there she was. 

Mrs. Tierney sat on a sad little bench beneath a sad little tree that had been planted there and likely forgotten. Her wool coat was that awful muted pink color from the 50s and 60s—like calamine lotion. She even had a matching hat. Her old-fashioned purse sat on her lap. I wasn't close enough to see her face, but the slump of her shoulders told me everything I needed to know.

"I'll be right back," I told Felicity.

I crept over. The area felt suffocating; someone had only bothered to shovel just slightly around the bench so that to the side lay only snow. The front was also only a few feet from another mound of dirty snow.

She looked up when she heard my heels. Her worn face was shivering while tears dripped rapidly from her eyes. She didn't bother to wipe them away. Her lips were slightly parted as if she had something to say, but they only quivered. 

"Mrs. Tierney. I can't even think how hard this must be on you. I'm sorry."

She looked down at her brown gloves. "I gave birth to him. Bathed him and clothed him. Sang songs and read books to him. Sent him to school. Stood up for him when his dad was mean. Loved him." Her eyes lifted, shining with tears. "Tell me how I'm supposed to stop that."

My breath caught. "I can't."

"No." She rose and slipped an errant button back through its hole. "No, you can't. No one can." She looked away from me. "How is the girl?"

"They think she's going to be okay."

She exhaled. I watched the puff of her breath in the air until it stopped swirling, wishing there was something I could fucking say.

"Good. I'm glad. I've been trying to follow reports about it in the paper but... I sent her flowers this morning. I hope that won't offend her."

"I doubt it will. I'm sure she'll be thankful."

She looked at me with a bitter smile. "Thankful? I brought her a nightmare."

"You couldn't have—"

"I could've said something. Done something." She clutched her purse tighter and shrugged. "I tried my best. The rest is up to God. It's a test of some kind, or at least that's what I keep telling myself. I know that I'll be on that bus next visiting day. I know I'll bring him his favorite chocolate. I know I'll do this until the day I die."

She walked away from me without a second look.

OOOOOO

A week later Olivia and I were singing "Happy Birthday" to my father. Mom teased him to blow out the candles which he did with an enthusiastic flourish. 

After Mom cut the cake and handed it to us, she steered Olivia over to the corner and talked about different galas coming up. Dad gave me a look and then grinned.

"Come here, I want to get a good look at my daughter." 

"Oh, no. No more beers for you."




Afterglow Pt. 05



Still, he beckoned with his finger. I came around the table and sat next to him. For a long time he just stared at me. 

"I always knew you'd be all right."

I burst out laughing. "What are you talking about?"

He'd definitely had one too many beers, but he was still somewhat rational. 

"You. My brave girl. You always go after you want. You're fearless."

"I'm afraid all the time."

"Hmm." Dad smiled. "Doesn't matter. You do things us simple folk don't even imagine doing. You told Roger to go fuck himself, essentially. You handled Fontaine like you were his age, his equal in experience. Do you know what a big deal that is?" I opened my mouth to say something but he went on. "And her?" He tilted his head in Olivia's direction. "You couldn't have made a better choice. I'm proud of you most of all because of that—because you weren't afraid, or too afraid, to be with who you wanted."

"Thanks, Dad." I didn't know what else to say.

He waved his hand as if he hadn't said one of the most important things he'd ever said to me. "You're lucky. I have no doubt you'll find a job soon."

"I have a job interview Monday afternoon."

Dad patted my back. "Good, good." He looked over at my mother and back at me. "Hey, do me a favor. When everything settles, don't stop checking in with us. It hurts your mother. She misses you. I miss you, too."

"I promise."

An hour or two later Olivia and I were putting our coats on. My mom kept flinging food at me to take home, which I loathed doing on the subway. Olivia graciously took it after a few minutes, giving me a dirty look.

The ride home took forever. It was beginning to get warmer outside, making the inside of the subway hot and uncomfortable. And extra smelly. I was so stuffed from dinner that the unpleasant and immediate stench of burnt trash nearly made me puke.

Finally we were in my apartment, fighting off licks from an affectionate Toronto. Olivia wordlessly handed me his leash and we went out for a walk, watching different people stroll pass. I peered into closed stores and opened restaurants. Another dog out for a walk barked at Toronto, trying to start a fight. My handsome sweetheart just kept on walking.

Mmm, it was good to be home. It was blissful peace and relaxation. 

I thought over and over again how odd it was to be pleased by such a simple thing: a walk with my girlfriend and dog. Yet there was a warmth in my chest I held onto.

When we were back upstairs, we undressed in the bedroom with only the dim lamp illuminating us. Olivia shimmied out of her jeans. I unbuttoned my blouse.

Home.

"When is Rose getting released?"

I pushed my panties down. "Without any other complications, the end of his week."

Olivia nodded, pulling off her bra. "Good. Felicity must be going mad."

"Yes. She actually wants to go visit Dan. She says it's for closure but I doubt it."

Olivia looked up at me sharply. "Dear Lord, she'd bring a gun or something."

"I talked her out of it."

Olivia, now naked, spread herself across the bed. She watched me slip my bra off my shoulders. I reached for my lotion and rubbed it into my skin, partly because moisturizing was part of my nightly ritual and partly because I knew she loved to see me do it.

She patted the bed beside her. "Come."

I got on the bed and kissed her. She tasted faintly of chocolate cake.

When I pulled away, she ran a hand through my hair and pulled it over my shoulder. She gazed at my breasts for a long time before she teasingly reached out and moved her hands over them. 

"I want you to move in with me," she said after a minute.

I looked up at her, trying to come out of the fog. "What?"

"I like your apartment better but it isn't conducive for working, so I'll have to keep my own space for that. So I suppose in a way I'm asking to move in with you."

After the first few minutes of shock, I gave it some thought. She practically lived with me now, as it was. And I'd learned so much. I learned that I loved an amazing person who magically loved me back. I knew that I witnessed, sadly through the misfortune of others, how important it was to stick with and by what you want. It would have been easy for Felicity to walk away when things got scary. But she stayed. The women made it through because of their love for the other, and they never let fear or second thoughts get in the way. And Olivia had stayed through everything, too. She loved me. I loved her. It really was a no-brainer.

"Okay," I whispered.

Olivia's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Yes. If you can seriously handle giving away that brownstone."

Olivia laughed, bringing her arms around me to tug me close. 

We had sex that night, but it was different from all the times before. I wouldn't say it was hotter, and I wouldn't say some cliché like the change was because we'd found peace and harmony. I personally felt it was sweeter and more precious because we were still learning one another's bodies, that we hadn't taken the recent events for granted and that the feelings we had for each other strengthened every time we gave a little piece of ourselves to the other.

I fell asleep before her. I was usually a deep sleeper but something roused me in the middle of the night. The lamp was on and Olivia wasn't beside me. Then I heard something, something like pencil on paper. I looked at the bottom of the bed and found Olivia there, sitting on a chair cross-legged while she sketched me. 

She didn't react when I sat up. I wanted to ask her how long she'd been up drawing me, why she felt the need to do it at 3:30 in the morning, but there was a stillness in the room that made me silent. 

I crawled to the edge of the bed. Delicately I reached for the sketchbook. 

It was me, but not me. It couldn't really be. I never looked so tranquil and happy before. It made me look years younger. And she had me so graceful on paper, though that part had to be completely false. I knew for a fact I was a sprawling, drooling mess when I slept. And yet she painted me like this because she was looking through her own lens, and this was how she saw me. 

I flushed. The corners of her mouth gently tipped up. She took the book back and went on drawing.

"What are you going to call it?" I asked, my voice scratchy and loud in contrast with the silence of the room. I laughed breathlessly when she didn't answer. "Afterglow Part Two?"

Olivia smiled but kept her eyes on the drawing. "No, honey. I haven't decided yet. For the moment, it's just 'Untitled'."

"I like that," I said a few minutes later. "It gives you more to work with. You don't know what you might want to add."

Olivia stared at me with sparkling eyes. "Exactly."

My eyes drank the sight of her in—her dark body beneath an overgrown white t-shirt, blue and lacy see-through panties, glittering dark eyes, glossy black hair hanging down her body.

"Come back to bed?"

She put down the sketchbook and climbed back in under the covers. Her arm wrapped around my body and her hand folded into mine.

And I thought: Home.