1 comments/ 14456 views/ 0 favorites Tomorrow By: Cathleen Tomorrow. Tomorrow she will stop, she will tell him "no more". Today though she didn't want to, she couldn't; she loved him. She could only have him during the weekdays. He went home every night to his wife and family; she went home to her empty condo. He went home to a warm home cooked meal; she went home with take out, if she ate at all. He slept in a bed with his wife; she slept in her bed alone, clutching her pillow as if he was there. Kit was used to the life. She loved it Monday through Friday but when Friday evening came, her heart sank, pained really for those forty-eight plus hours. Then Monday morning would come around and once again her heart would sing and her body would feel alive with pleasure. There was always a downside to the way she loved, but she accepted it, not easily, but it was what she knew. Long ago Kit had dreams of a loving man, maybe even marry someday, but it just didn't seem to happen for her. Her first married lover was in back in college; she'd fallen for a professor. How she loved him, he was everything to her, she was only eighteen years old but here was this man, a man, not a boy, treating her like a queen. So what if he was only available sometimes, so what if they couldn't tell anyone, she loved him and he loved her. Maybe that set the stage, created the pattern, she didn't know anymore, it was too long ago and too many married men ago. With each relationship she'd had with a married man she had learned something. Sometimes it was about her and what she did or didn't want; sometimes it was about what she gave up to have love in her life. And she did give up a lot. She knew the highs came with the lows too. She was a secret, when what she really wanted was to scream out to the world "I love this man". She didn't go away for the romantic weekends, that time and privilege belonged to his wife. She couldn't phone him when she needed or wanted him, in fact she recalled many times she never even had their phone numbers. But there were days it was worth it all, oh, those were the wondrous days. Today was one of those days. It was Monday and he was coming! Jim was her current lover. He loved her she knew it. He wasn't like the others; he wanted her totally. He was willing to give up so much for her he said. He was in love with her and she knew she was in love with him. They had met online in a chat room, hit it off immediately and quickly proceeded to phone calls. He worked in the city, and her condo was not far from his office. After talking on the phone one morning the subject of meeting came up; they would meet for lunch they decided, safe enough. Recalling that lunch now she should have run but it was already too late for her. She had fallen fast. When he told her he was married it no longer mattered, she'd been here before and now that she'd fallen there was no going back. She was addicted to this life, even if she didn't want to admit it to herself. In this life style choice she knew to let the good feelings take over the bad. Today was one of those perfect days in her love life. He had taken the day off, just to be with her! She was in bed still and he let himself in with his key, bringing coffee and bagels and as always that single flower! He knew just how to please her; she knew she couldn't resist him. She watched him come into her bedroom, his eyes not leaving hers, piercing right through her; she felt the stir deeply. He knew how she would react; she knew he knew. Placing the coffee and bagels on the nightstand he presented the deep red rose to her with his mouth. Leaning down, the rose in his lips, he kissed her sweetly, slipping the rose between her lips as they had so many times before. They lingered upon each other's lips, savoring the first kiss of the day. With her giggle the kiss was broken and she lay in her bed with the red rose between her lips while he looked at her with desire. Kit was already feeling the moisture between her legs, her womanhood ready for his touch. He knew. He knew her so well, knew that she would orgasm almost immediately, that she would come over and over just in their first lovemaking of the day. Their pleasure was mutual, he loved that he could give her so much pleasure; she loved giving him pleasure. She had a way of bringing him to the edge and keeping him there for what seemed like forever before exploding together. Kit loved that she could make him hard so soon after their climax and took pride in that, as he hadn't experienced that in some years. Their lovemaking was fantastic every time, it was true love making as well. Oh yes, sometimes it was downright fucking, but even then, their love was there. Kit rose from the bed slowly, allowing him to take her in with his eyes. She wore the gown he gave her last week. A soft blue gown that could barely hold her ample bosom, her breasts always excited him most and dressed for him in things that accentuated her breasts. There was a side slit giving him access to her most private places. It was the elegance of her very being, everything about it was Kit; the lace trim, the scallop edging, the sweet with the sexy. He watched as she slid out from under the covers, one leg at a time, giving him a little show. She had her ways and he loved every one of them. She could tease without even knowing it, she had no idea of her sex appeal or her sensuality, she just had it. She was intoxicating to him as he was to her. Jim reached for her as she passed him, but she slipped out of his grasp, with a grin and a look that said, "Almost my love, almost". She placed the flower in the Waterford crystal bud vase he had given her with his first flower gift. Kit kept the vase in her bedroom so she could see it before she fell off to sleep in hopes of dreaming of him and it was the first sight of her day giving her the smile on her face and in her heart. Today it held the single red rose that dripped with moisture, just like the moisture she was feeling down below. She freshened up and returned to Jim, walking softly and quietly towards him, her eyes watching him to see his want. Neither lover could hide anything from the other. They were completely in tune with one another, in and out of bed. As she closed in on him he took hold of her, whisking her into his arms with a flourish as she let out a laugh. This time she wouldn't get away nor did she want to. He held her with surety but gently too. "Oh, Jim, good morning to you! I love you my sweet man." She couldn't contain her joy of being in his arms again. "Hello Kit, my darling Kit! I love you too!" Jim placed her feet back on the floor while kissing her hard and long. It was the kind of kiss that told her he didn't want to wait any longer to have her. His hands caressed her cheek and slid to her breast, touching her softly and feeling her nipple respond to his touch. Touching her again she moaned for more and he took her nipple into his mouth through the silk fabric of her gown. She was wet and wanting he knew, now would he tease her or take her now? Jim's decision was made for him as his jeans suddenly became very constraining. Kit's hand slid down to his crotch and feeling his hardness she started to fumble with his button and zipper wanting to free him to her hands now. He moved her backwards to the bed and stood in front of her, with urgency she lowered his jeans to the floor. His hand was on her shoulder as he stepped out of them and then wandered down to her breast again. His touch sent a shiver through her while she removed his boxers, the final barrier to have him in her hands. His hardness always made her feel so good, knowing she caused that in him, she wanted him now, she wanted to taste him. As her hands gently touched his cock Jim let out a moan and she knew that moan well, he wanted more from her. When her hand slid to the base of his shaft she moved forward and took his head into her mouth, her warm and wanting mouth. Kit savored the taste of his precum letting her tongue circle and taste him. Jim placed his hands on her head directing her but she needed no direction she knew just what he wanted, it was what she wanted too. She loved his cock with her mouth taking more of him into her mouth, loving him. Running her tongue down the underside and coming back up to that sweet Vee spot to tickling him. Kit could hear his moans and felt him begin to throb in her mouth, which urged her on. Sucking him deeper and deeper, licking him, pulling him in more and more. He thrust into her until she could take no more but she wanted to. Kit tilted her head back slightly to open her throat to him, she wanted to devour him, to bring him to that edge and she was doing just that. With his hands upon her head he started to pull out while Kit was determined to keep him in, the sweet dance began, sliding in and out, over and over until Jim dangled at that sweet torturous edge. She had him just where she wanted him now, he knew it too and he pulled out of her mouth. She slid back on the bed and he crawled up to her, his mouth over hers, eyes looking into eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers. Kissing with passion, open mouths loving each other, barely coming up for air. His full weight was on her now and her arms embracing him tightly. Jim pulled away from the kiss, pressing upwards and gazing into the depths of her eyes. His eyes telling her what he wanted now, kissing her as he scooted down lower and lower, moving aside the gown to find his heaven in her hot moist womanhood. Her legs spread expectantly, sending her heat and scent into the room like a potion. His hand slid over the silk fabric of her gown, moving through the slit to her warm moist pussy. She was on fire and he knew it would take but a touch to bring her to the edge and then one more to send her over the edge. His mouth barely on her heat and he felt her moving to the apex, he knew she needed the release and without delay he gave it to her, watching her face and hearing her guttural moans spurred him on again. Kit could always come over and over and he was determined to do that for her, her pleasure was his too. As she hummed softly he knew it was time for more and his tongue moved within her warm, soft folds, opening her more. Her hands moved to her breasts, as he loved her hot wanting pussy. Her squirms and moans told him, actually made him want to take her farther and farther, sending her higher with each lick and each suckle. When he heard that special soft moan he slid a finger, then two, into her and she reacted just as he knew she would by gasping and spreading her legs farther apart. She squirmed a bit and he curled his fingers to find her G-spot and when he had her there he wouldn't let up. Kit screamed out for more and more while she released and flowed onto his hand, he felt every contraction and kept going until she begged him to let her come back. He knew she'd want more in a moment so he let her come back to him slowly, kissing her clit as she returned. Jim was a fabulous lover and always made her feel wanted and womanly. He wanted more of her taste now and slipped his tongue into her folds once again. Again Kit moaned with a want for more. He indulged upon her sweet feast again and again, sending the waves of pleasure through her entire body. He felt her shivers and moved into her heated pussy more and deeper, she could hardly stand it but wouldn't want anything else in the world but him loving her this way. His tongue dragged against her clit and she exploded with a scream while dripping her juices, which he lapped up with pleasure. Jim loved her taste; he couldn't get enough of it. Just as he felt her last quivers he slipped back up her body kissing his way to her mouth, he wanted her to taste herself from his mouth. Kissing her hard and deep, just as his cock would be in a moment, deep within her. Kit loved his kisses, returning each with a fever and passion to devour him. Jim's cock teased at her wet opening and she wiggled to pull him in, but he wasn't quite ready for her to have that pleasure. He'd tease her until she begged for him to enter her, tease her until she could take no more. Panting his name she could hardly speak. "Jim, ah ah, please Jim, please, please, ah ah ohh ohh, I need you in me now", Kit was at that point of no return. "Just what would you like darlin'?. The playfulness in his husky voice only increased her need. "YOU, NOW, IN ME, PLEASEEEEEEE JIM!" It was almost a demand but really it was total desire. Jim placed his cock at her opening again and slowly entered her, stretching her, listening to the sound she always made, that sweet feeling produced a song in her voice. He fell for it every time; he fell for everything about her. Their eyes were fixed upon each other as he moved deeper and deeper, just languishing in the first moments of this magical union. They were one now, and she kissed him tenderly; whispering her love to him, thanking him for the union she so desperately wanted. Kit loved the feeling of him within her, wanting it to last forever. She loved to delay the release as long as possible just to remain conjoined with him, her lover. She felt him move slightly and contracted to keep him there, but he was stronger and slid almost out of her, leading her to beg him to come back. "You don't want me to leave, hmmm? " It was almost a growl from him, his desire building with hers. "You know I don't, please, please come back to me." Her pleads were rewarded more than she could have wanted as Jim pounded back hard and deep into her pussy. "Ahhhhhhhh, oh god, yesssss" Kit let it out now, "Yesssss Jim, more, more!" And more is what she got, he continued his loving assault on her, taking a nipple into his mouth while she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her closely. Their dance of rhythm had begun and with each movement they were closer to each other and to the climax they craved. As though they were climbing a mountain they pushed on and on, wanting to delay but not either, the reward was too awesome and the power of their love couldn't stop them. Their climax was loud and stunning, seemingly endless as they enjoyed this perfect timing yet again. They lay spent with him on top of her. She loved that feeling, the security and safety of being protected and cared for. Jim stayed inside her while their quivering abated and their eyes and minds slowly came back to earth. The passion with which they loved each other had almost blinded them again. They gathered their breath and kissed tenderly not talking, just touching. As Jim rolled off her, Kit let out a moan of sadness, she hated when he left her body, as much as he hated when he left her bed and home. "Oh, my sweet, how good you are to me. I love you so very much and I love they way you love me." It was all she could say to him, she always felt so overwhelmed with emotion after they made love. He returned her sentiments with a sweet kiss upon her mouth while brushing the hair from her face; that well loved mess her hair had become from their loving. The tenderness, the sweetness and the passion of it lingered long after they fell asleep in each other's embrace. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was certainly not about tomorrow. Tomorrow Sitting across the table from me was one of the most wonderful people I'd ever known. Michelle was a dear friend of mine, the woman I always went to when I was sad or scared or lonely. A lot of people thought we were related. One of the only differences between us, physically, was that my eyes were green, and hers were blue. We were both tall, lanky girls with long brown hair and freckled skin, high cheekbones and quiet dispositions. And now my blue eyed reflection was pensively stirring her coffee, her cheek against her palm. "A penny for your thoughts?" I asked, dipping my head down to catch her gaze. She blinked at me for a moment, bewildered. "Hmm?" She shook her head, "oh, I'm just thinking about what Greta said to me the other day, about Rick and me." "You mean the repellant thing?" "Yeah." "I wouldn't worry about it," I assured her softly, taking a sip of my coffee, "she's been really horrid lately, what with her divorce and all. I know a lot of what she says is because she's not happy, hence doesn't want anyone else to be." "I suppose," Michelle sighed, "But in a way, she's right. I mean, Rick did leave me because I kept pushing him away. I don't even know why I was, I guess I just, fell out of love with him." "And sweetie, that's understandable. The same this happened to mine and Dan's relationship. I couldn't help it. I just – didn't love him anymore. It could've been the trip we took to Cape Cod last month, but lately, things had been spiraling downward. It was time." "I guess you're right." Michelle smiled at me and took a long, deep drink from her mug. "Come on," I said, standing up, "let's clean this up and we'll go watch a good black and white movie." I grabbed my mug and spoon and she followed me to the sink, where we rinsed our things and gathered on the sofa in my living room. I pulled a couple of throw pillows and blankets from the chair nearby, and we snuggled under them as I searched for the remote. I stuck my hand down between the cushions awkwardly, as Michelle leaned forward to fix her blanket, and we bumped heads, wincing and recoiling. "Are you okay?" I asked, concerned, but laughing. "Yeah, I'm fine." She rubbed her forehead and closed one eye, obviously still in pain. Still giggling, I got up and got some ice from the freezer, wrapping it in a washcloth, and came back to sit beside her. I leaned over and pressed it to her sore spot tenderly. She hissed, and I helped her lay back on the sofa, letting her bring her hand up to mine to take the washcloth from me. Our fingertips brushed gently, and for the first time in ages, I felt comforting warmth spread through my body. We locked eyes and she smiled. "Thank you, Lorelai." She told me, as I brushed a few strands of hair from her face. I put my hand to the washcloth again, and took it from her forehead, setting it on my coffee table. "You're welcome," I whispered back, and noticed that she had tears in her eyes. "Does it still hurt?" I asked, not sure what was wrong. "No, no – it's fine." "Are you sure?" I paused. "What is it, sweetie?" Michelle took a shuddering breath. "I'm scared, Lorelai. What if Rick was the last guy who'd ever love me? And I let him go. How can I ever forgive myself?" She tried to blink back the sadness, but it spilled over and down her cheeks. With a sympathetic sigh, I pulled her into a hug. "Baby, you have nothing to worry about. There's always somebody else out there for you, okay? Just let it go. Let it go, baby." I gave her a kiss on her temple, and then on the bump on her forehead, soothing her as she shut her eyes. "Shhh..." I cooed, and rocked with her, kissing her cheek, and then again by her chin. I sat there with her for a moment, holding her closely while she relaxed and grew silent in my arms. I gave her three more kisses, all by the corners of her mouth, and when I was leaning in to give her a fourth, Michelle turned her head to me and our lips pressed together for just a moment. It was like a jolt of electricity shot through my body. Instantly I pulled away, like I'd been shocked with static, and looked at her intently. She looked lost and confident at the same time, and we stared at each other for another eternal moment, before we hesitantly closed the gap between us, unsure as to what we were doing, or why we were doing it, only that we both desperately sought this comfort. I pressed my lips to hers and we kissed for the second time, longer than before. My hands slid up her back and to her neck, as she wrapped her arms around my waist, shifting her weight to help me closer. We both knew we were straying into dangerous territory, but neither of us could find the strength to stop. Michelle reached around me and pulled a blanket up over both of us, as she lay back again and gathered me in her arms. At this point, my body was pressed gently into hers, my legs settled in between hers, and my arms were hooked beneath hers, absentmindedly playing with her long hair. One of her hands strayed down to the small of my back, where our movement had shifted my shirt up, exposing a small patch of skin. With a caress like a feather, she ran her fingers over it, sending a deep tingle through my body. Slowly, I parted our lips, and kissed her deeper, wondering idly how far this was going to go. I didn't know why Michelle initiated this, or why I was going along with it, but the most puzzling question I had was simply: why was all of this, despite the complications, still succeeding in turning me on? I let my hands wander a little more, when I gathered Michelle close to me and switched our positions a while later. It wasn't until both my hands began to drift beneath her top that she let out a soft sound, and slipped me the tongue. It was unexpected, and it made me moan softly back. I tilted my head up to press my tongue into her mouth in return, and my fingers bent into claws as I dragged my fingernails wickedly slow across her bare back. She arched into my touch and very audibly moaned, rolling her hips against me. "Ah, Lorelai," she purred, trailing her kisses down to my neck. There was something undeniably arousing about hearing a woman moan my name, let alone Michelle, one of the most beautiful women I'd ever known. I slid one hand up to the clasp of her bra and paused, moving to meet her eyes for approval. "Wait," she said, helping me sit up, "let's go to your room." "All right." Hesitantly, I stood up with her, inwardly giddy when she laced her fingers with mine and dashed towards the door with me in tow. When we shut the door to my room and paused for a moment, we realized finally the awkwardness, not to mention hugeness of our situation. Michelle had kissed me. I had kissed her back. And the next thing I knew, we were rounding second and well on our way to third. What I didn't realize was that I had just said all this aloud. "I know it's huge," Michelle told me, sitting down beside me on my bed, "but I mean, think about it. Neither of us is seeing anyone, from the way you were kissing me, you obviously want it too, and it doesn't have to be more than just tonight if you don't want it to be. We don't have to worry about anything until morning. But that's tomorrow. And in the strictest sense of the word, tomorrow never comes. Ever think about that?" "But, Michelle, what if it gets –" "Awkward?" "Yeah." I nodded, looking down. "It won't. If we both decide it's not right, then we stop. Ever stayed friends with an ex before?" "Well, sure –" She smirked. "See? Same thing." "You're really sure about this?" "Sure I'm sure." I looked her in the eye. She looked so scared, but she looked so hopeful. I relented. "Well, I just – ah, what the hell." I pounced on her, pinning her to the bed, kissing her hesitantly and chastely, until Michelle unclasped my bra from the front and began to massage my bare breasts. God, it felt so good, and I told her so, by making our kiss more heated and passionate. We took each other's shirts, pants and bras off together, discarding them at the end of my bed. At that moment, I paused, as we took each others' near nakedness into our minds. I'd never forget that moment, nor did I think I'd want to, as Michelle was more beautiful that I'd imagined. Even in her white cotton panties she was irresistible. I took it as a point to let her take control. She seemed to know more of what she was doing that I did, anyway. Michelle reached her arms out to me, smiling widely. I took them, and we lay down together, our bare flesh pressed heatedly together against each other for the first time. It was nice, being with a woman for a change. Michelle's skin was smoother and finer, and she had no hair practically anywhere on her body, which was something I could get used to quite quickly. The men I dated were usually older, and had hair on their chests and legs, but now, I was slipping sensually beneath Michelle, my arms and hands perfectly content lying still, wrapped around her warm, soft frame. "Michelle," I began in between kisses, "have you ever been with a woman?" She looked down at me, her hair falling around her face. "No, why? Have you?" "No, I was just asking." "Oh." "Well, because you seem to know what you're doing, and I just assumed—" "Lorelai, my sweet," she smiled warmly at me, "I believe you're mistaking my technique. I know what I like, not what to do." I grinned back. "Well, whatever works." I sat still and sighed contentedly as she dropped to her elbows and curled my hair behind my ears. We moved closer, and Michelle slid up until our bodies were completely aligned. She giggled when I wiggled my toes against hers, and she put her feet on the inside of mine to pry me legs apart, settling her hips in between them. Resting her fingertips on my waist, she craned her neck up to meet my lips in another kiss. I placed my hands on the sides of her face and kept her mouth close to mine, and she soon shimmied up me so she could have easier access, and she rolled me on my side, then breaking our kiss again. She turned me so I was facing away from her, and pressed up against me. Her hands left my waist and slid gently up my back to my head, gently massaging my scalp with her fingertips. I hummed quietly and closed my eyes, the combination of the softness of her touch and her skin with the sensation of Michelle's nipples brushing against my back was mind numbing. My hums turned into sighs, and then into moans as she slowly switched to using one hand, while the other slid over my shoulder and down my chest to caress my soft mounds. I felt a tingle drift from my chest down into my stomach and make its way between my legs, my panties dampening profusely. She rolled one nipple in between her thumb and forefinger, her other hand soon leaving my head to hold me close and reach my other one. Dipping her head down, she used her nose to brush the hair off my neck, and began to kiss and lick the soft skin. Her hands hand now been twisting and pulling and pinching my nipples into hard, pink peaks, and she proceeded to let her hands wander over my sides and stomach and back up again. I brought a hand back over my head to run my fingers through her hair, and she stopped what her lips were doing to welcome my tongue into her mouth again. I turned over to pull her close, my hands closing over the globes of her backside and caressing them, working closer to the inside of her thighs. Michelle stopped kissing me to let out a loud moan, dragging her nails over my skin lightly. Pushing her onto her back, I kissed her neck and the hollow of her shoulder down, down to her firm, round breasts. Taking them gently into my hands for the first time, I leaned forward and circled first one nipple, and then the other, the taste of her flesh as delicious as it looked. I settled down as she began to relax and stroke my hair, the warmth of her body both comforting and arousing. After a minute or so, I was overwhelmed, and I stopped to lay my head on her chest, listening for her heart beat and the sound of her breathing. I closed my eyes as her embrace brought me closer, and I felt as if I might fall asleep, until Michelle spread her legs a little wider, and my body slipped downward an inch or two, the dampness of her arousal now pressed against my stomach. My contact with her body's juices instantly woke something in me. Delicately, I smiled up at her, pushing my body upwards to kiss her again, then slid over to draw her earlobe into my mouth, nibbling gently at it, making Michelle let out a squeal of delight. Her expression shifted from happiness to desire against my cheek as I reached down and cupped her sex in my hand, and she inhaled sharply, pulling my face to hers and pressing her tongue into my mouth. I slowly rubbed her through her panties, the feeling of her desperate attempts for more contact with my hand incredible to even think about. As her moans into my mouth grew louder, she broke away and breathed my name into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "God, Lorelai, that's it. Right there. Ohh..." she moaned as I pressed my hands harder against her, sucking on the soft skin of her neck. A minute passed, and I stopped suddenly, making her noises cease as she looked over at me. "Why'd you stop?" she asked, breathily, and I smiled, hooking my fingers into her panties and sliding them down her legs. I took in the pungent scent of her and smiled as I admired her in all her nakedness. There, lying in front of me was this feminine deity, the folds of her skin as precious as the woman beneath them. Her long brown hair was recklessly tossed about her head like a haphazard halo, and she smiled down at me through her sea-blue eyes. I'd always known she was beautiful, but since the sparks flew as we shared our first kiss, I'd been mesmerized by her in a whole new light. It was refreshing, invigorating, and terrifying to realize how much I wanted her at that very moment in a way I never thought I would. In one fluid motion, Michelle had discarded her underwear and peeled mine off, tossing them to the foot of the bed, before I intercepted her and pinned her to her pillow, sensually rubbing my naked body against hers. She ground up against me, and tilted her head up to kiss me. In our passion, our teeth kept crashing together, but I didn't care. I freed her hands and they instantly went to my face and wound in my hair, as we roughly turned over on the firm mattress of my bed. We necked there for as long as we could stand it, our tongues battling and our fingers searching. I clenched my ass muscles as she squeezed and kneaded the fleshy globes in her hands, flicking her tongue across my lips, and making my eyes roll back into my head, and my back arch into her. She and I had always had a connection I never quite understood; something beyond our friendship that neither of us spoke about. I think, maybe, deep down, we'd always craved each other, but would never let it form anything that would interfere with our relationship. I remember one night, Michelle and I had gotten tipsy and I'd kissed her once, but I had figured that was the alcohol talking. I ignored the fact that the feel of her lips seemed to keep me from fully enjoying a kiss from any man after that. I ignored the fact that I wanted to do it again. I blamed it all on the wine. But now – here we were, devil may care, two vulnerable and desperate single women who really wanted one string-free night, fiercely kissing and throwing caution to the wind. It was all a sensual daydream, I thought, twining my fingers into her hair. It was all a blur. Simply moving from one candescent caress to the next, never thinking, never questioning. Michelle looked up at me from my breasts, where she smiled delicately, my left nipple still in between her teeth. Her tongue flicked over it several times, and I bit my lip as the juncture of my thighs began to throb. My head fell back as she shimmied down my body, and I flattened my stomach and clenched my abs as she dragged her tongue up the center of my torso, stopping just below this small patch of freckles in my cleavage. I reeled her in with one of my favourite come-here-to-me stares and we kissed again, this time without our arms around each other. The only things touching were our thighs and our lips, and I felt her grind up against me, her elbows buckling as she fell down hard on top of me. I giggled lasciviously into her mouth, carelessly dismissing my injuries because of my overwhelming need to keep kissing her. We rolled over in bed, and I pinned her down Michelle broke our kiss a moment later, turning her face away from me. "You know–" "Shhh," I whispered against her lips, "talking comes later." She laughed, and kissed me again. "But, Lorelai –" "Shhh, it's just getting good." I dipped my tongue into her mouth and she moaned. "Lorelai, I'm trying to—" kiss, "compliment you here." "Yeah?" kiss, "on what?" I began to kiss her throat when she turned away from my mouth again. "I just wanted to tell you how—" She moaned low in her throat as I ran my tongue up her neck, "mmmm, how good your skin tastes. I never – ahhh – never thought it could be like this." "Sweetie, the feeling's totally mutual." I took my tongue out of her ear to look straight into her eyes. "It's crazy, isn't it? Thinking that you feel one way about someone or something, and then fate coming and throwing you off like that." "You think this is something more than physical?" She asked, breathless and honest. I thought for a moment. "I – I don't know. But I know I won't have any regrets, however it turns out." "Me either." She smiled at me. "Michelle, you're my best friend. I don't think there's anything that could change that." "Not even a really great orgasm?" I laughed. "Not even a really great orgasm." "Are you sure? I might be able to sway you." Her eyes glazed over as she ran her hands down my sides. "Mmmm, try me." I held my parted lips just centimeters from hers and brushed my top lip against her bottom one. We barely moved our lips, just kept shifting and gyrating our open mouths, kissing the air while kissing each other. Something so simple had never felt so satisfying. When Michelle had vacated my mouth and traveled down to my stomach again, I could feel her insistently pressing my thighs apart with her body. I did and I soon felt her body flush against my sex, her heated skin igniting my loins. The folds of my nether lips parted slowly as she shifted her weight against me, deliberately smearing some of the juices I'd spilled onto her naked body straight from the source. As she pressed herself closer to me and slid further down, I could feel the wet trail I was leaving on her skin, straight up her navel, until one of her nipples slid deliciously over my clit, and I couldn't believe the sensations I was receiving. She and I moaned at the same time, as we both derived pleasure from the same action. She rubbed her nipple upwards against me a few more times, closing her eyes, and I followed suit, bringing my hands up to fondle my own dark pink nubs. Suddenly, I couldn't feel her skin anymore. A cool puff of air teased my clit, and then something warm and wet took over. I recognized it instantly, and let out a guttural moan, opening my eyes to look down upon the most erotic sight I'd ever seen: my best friend burying her face in my pussy. I spread my legs a little wider, rolling my hips up to meet her hurricane tongue, and let out a strangled cry, too overwhelmed to make any more noise than that. I lay there, all my muscles seizing and relaxing as I sank into her vulval kiss. I shook my head violently and arched my back as she began to lick and suck me hard, thrusting me towards an imminent climax. But I wasn't about to go just yet. Summoning all the willpower I had in me, I whispered, "your turn." Tomorrow She looked up at me with a leer. I watched with fascination as the muscles in her neck quivered and she swallowed what she drank from me, licking her lips. We sat up together. "Jesus Christ," I swore, "you make that look soooo good." "Well, it helps that you taste like one of my favourite cocktails." She smacked her lips. "Oh yeah?" "Mm-hmm." We kissed softly. "I wonder..." I punctuated my sentence by reaching down between us and rubbing my finger against her, collecting her moisture on my finger, and bringing it to my lips. My tongue darted out, and I got my first taste of Michelle's juices. She was ... tart, but sweet. The taste would've put me off normally, but knowing it came from her, from within her, made the thought of feasting on it incredibly appealing. I took another taste, licking my finger clean; all the while maintaining eye contact with her, watching her subconsciously run her tongue over her lips as she panted quietly. After a moment, Michelle reached down and pushed her middle finger between her legs, rubbing herself slowly. I sat in a dreamy haze as I watched her circle her clit and push her finger inside her wetness, letting out an empty gasp at the slick sounds her lips made as she thrust in and out, in and out. I finally could take it no longer, and I pulled her finger from inside of her, licking and sucking the nectar from it, before pinning her back down on the bed with a hungry kiss, the juices on our tongues meshing together in one delicious flavour. Wasting no time, I pushed two fingers up and into her firmly, relishing in her sharp intake of breath, as my mouth quickly joined my hands, my tongue flicking over her clit again and again. I shook my head harshly, trying to bring her up and keep her up as high as I was. I know she must've passed me up, because she put her hand on my head and tapped my shoulder. I looked up at her, and she looked like she was gesturing me to come to her. When I brought my lips from her, she shook her head in negation. "No, you – turn around," she moaned, and I caught on, sliding my body around and straddling her face. We both began devouring each other. I pushed my fingers back into Michelle's slick heat, flattening my tongue on her clit, and she stopped what she was doing to cry out. "Ah, FUCK, Lorelai!" Was what I distinctly heard against my pussy, and the vibrations her voice sent coursing through me stole the oxygen from my body, and I felt my eyes roll back into my head as I hit a pinnacle with her, my fingers thrusting as fast as they could in and out of her, sending her reeling and in turn pleasing me more. I drowned in my second orgasm, breathing deep the sweet smell of lesbian sex. As our cries died down, I turned right side up, and collapsed next to Michelle on my linen sheets. My pillows welcomed our sated consciousness, and I surrendered to the thrill of my post-coital bliss, my eyelids heavy, and my fingers lacing with hers. Who knows what we might've thought come morning. That was tomorrow. And in the strictest sense of the word, tomorrow never comes. But I did. Twice. Tomorrow This story is not what you would consider a "stroke" story. If that is what you are looking for, you might want to try another story. ------------- ----------------------- The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission. This story takes place in the fictional city of Springfield, California several hundred years in the future, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex. ------------- --------------- "Tomorrow . . ." ------------- --------------- "Where the fuck are my earrings?" Wendy shouted from bathroom where she had spent the last forty minutes making adjustments to her hair. Cindy rolled her eyes but couldn't help but grin. She'd never met anyone THAT smart with THAT kind of a mouth on her. She had been sitting there patiently waiting for her date to get ready, but Wendy always took forever. Cindy's work clothes were folded neatly on the table of Wendy's apartment where they had been for an hour. She was blessed with the ability to be ready at a moment's notice. It pissed Wendy off to no end. "Have you checked your ears?" Cindy replied loudly, plopping down in a chair and waiting for her companion to finish getting ready. Not that Cindy really cared if Wendy hurried. She wanted that night to last a while. Wendy peaked out from the bathroom and stuck her tongue out at Cindy. "Smart ass," she said before returning to her search with a melodramatic huff. "Better than being a dumb shit," Cindy shot back. She glanced over and saw the earrings on the nightstand, but she didn't say anything. She was enjoying listening to her lover's tirade about the nature of missing objects far too much to let the moment end. Her attention was drawn to something else in the room as well. Boxes and boxes of Wendy's belongings. That put a serious damper on her mood, and it obviously reflected on her face. "No sour expressions," Wendy said as she walked slowly into the room, her elegant blue gown clinging to her slim body like a glove. "You promised." Cindy shook her head. "I just . . ." Wendy sat in her girlfriend's lap and pressed a finger to the saucy brunette's lips. "We both knew that tomorrow was coming. I've got to go, and I've been putting it off long enough thanks to you," she said, grinning before giving Cindy and sweet, sweet kiss. "And it's not like we won't ever see each other again. So promise me again . . ." "Okay, okay," Cindy replied. In the two years they had been together, Wendy had always managed to get her way. The woman had a way with words . . . no wonder she was a writer. "I promise. The rest of the night is just about having fun. There," she muttered, faking submission. "Are you happy?" "Always!" Wendy said, making her way back to her feet. She quickly spied the earrings, then shot Cindy a dirty look. "Bitch." "Takes one to know one," Cindy replied, shrugging her shoulders. She gave the other woman a once over. "So you decided to go blonde?" "I wanted to see if it was REALLY more fun," Wendy replied, making one last adjustment to her hair. "Not bad for an old lady." "You're only thirty-seven . . ." "But a veteran of life!" Wendy shot back with an outrageous and horrible French accent. "That's the last time I let you watch cartoons about a talking skunk," Wendy said by way of a completely insincere complaint. "It's a habit I picked up from dating someone so childish." Cindy rolled her eyes. She was only four years younger than her companion. But in actuality, Wendy tended to behave more like a kid than her (slightly) junior counterpart. "Am not." "Are too." "Am not." "Are . . ." It had been Cindy's turn to sneak up on Wendy and plant a kiss on those lips. Then she kissed Wendy's neck, smelling that sweet citrus-like perfume she preferred. "None of that," Wendy said with a smile. How she had ever managed to find someone so beautiful and passionate who would be willing to put up with her skinny ass was beyond her comprehension. Cindy was stunning in her little black dress that conformed nicely to her athletic body, and it was almost tempting to blow off other plans to start a night of debauchery. But she wanted their last night together for a while to be special, so she playfully pushed the amorous younger woman away and gave her a slap on the ass. "Simmer down now," she said. "So where are we going anyway?" "Nuh unh," Cindy replied. "You don't get to know until we get there." "Spoilsport," Wendy said, but not at all unhappy about her lover's behavior. She knew that Cindy was taking the idea of separation hard, but she was doing her best not to let it show. "Well, I'm as ready as I'm going to be." Cindy grinned and offered her "date" her arm. Wendy accepted it and leaned against her companion, allowing herself to be escorted to Cindy's ever-so-cute MiniCooper. "What? No limo?" Wendy complained with a fake pout. "This is a limo," Cindy replied with a straight face. "It's a baby limo." "Ah. I see," Wendy replied, waving an arm extravagantly and then slowly worked her way into the passenger side of her carriage for the evening. As Cindy pulled out onto the street, Wendy rested her head on the woman's shoulder. "You're making it harder to drive," Cindy grumbled. "I have COMPLETE faith in you to NOT crash" "Yes, but you're an idiot." Cindy grinned, watching as Wendy fiddled with the controls to her radio. The woman was a brilliant writer and amateur philosopher, but she had a complete inability to navigate electronic devices. Eventually . . . after many, many, many attempts, found a station that she liked . . . and that Cindy despised. "What did I tell you about country music in my car?!" Wendy shrugged. "I don't remember. Whenever you start getting bitchy about something, I just tune you out." "And I put up with you why?" But Cindy let the offense go . . . this time. Soon Wendy was humming along to an old Garth Brooks tunes, quite pleased with herself about conquering the "radio demon" as she liked to call it. No matter how often Cindy tried to get her to do it, she for some reason refused to call it XM radio. Since its infusion into pop culture, Wendy had developed an unusual disdain for the letter "X." "Did you ever finish that manuscript, by the by?" Wendy asked. Cindy rolled her eyes. She loved reading Wendy's books, but HATED acting as a proof reader. She was never sure how to provide constructive criticism on romance novels trimmed with Wendy's particular brand of humor. "You KNOW I have. I finished it yesterday afternoon when I was waiting in the lobby." "You never told me what you think." "I loved it as always," Cindy replied. "Though I'm not sure if it's going to sell as well as your last one. I don't think that the reading public is going to feel comfortable having a lesbian character in there." "I figured it was time to let my readers know a little more about 'me.' Hopefully they'll forgive me this one time." Cindy sighed. "If they don't, then they never deserved to read you." Wendy kissed her lover on the cheek. "Ever my protector, aren't you?" "Ever and ever," Cindy replied. The phrase was a running joke or comment between the two, and had been for the years they had known each other. Wendy was looking out the window of the car, and suddenly leaned forward with a gasp. They had just pulled into the park lot of . . . "The Grand Old Show-House?!" she squealed in delight. "Wait . . . isn't '1776' playing her this week?!" Cindy tried to look innocent and failed miserably. The Grand Old Show-House was an amazing playhouse with incredible acoustics. And more importantly, everyone who attended a play there was treated to a wine and cheese extravaganza before each play and during intermissions. It was one of Wendy's favorite places to go, and she had been wanting to see 1776 again. It was one of her favorite musicals. "How much did this cost you?" Wendy asked suspiciously, glancing out of the side of her eyes. "You really shouldn't . . ." "Shut yer mouth," Cindy said primly. "I wanted to do this for you and so I did. Tickets are non-refundable, so just deal with it." She felt her hands grow a little clammy on the steering wheel. 'It's the least I wish I could do to make you stay,' she thought. Cindy parked the car and quickly rushed around to he passenger side door, offering her arm to Wendy and then escorting her to the ticket window. Wendy's arm was wrapped around her girlfriend's and their hands were clasped. They got several disapproving looks from other patrons, but neither of them gave a rat's ass about what anyone else thought. They found their seats and Wendy wasted little time ordering her first glass of wine. She had been somewhat limited in recent months in regards to her alcohol consumption, but had decided to throw caution to the wind that night. Cindy was driving, so she'd have to be careful, but her lover INSISTED on them both having at least one glass together. Wendy raised her glass. "A toast," she said warmly. "And what EXACTLY are we toasting?" Cindy replied curiously. "Us," Wendy said. "To you . . . to me . . . and to two incredible years." Cindy felt a lump in her throat, but smiled anyway. "To us," she responded. They intertwined their arms and sipped from their glasses. Then they kissed, and neither of them were even tasting the wine at that point. The curtain rose and the crowd went quiet. Cindy spent more time glancing over at Wendy than she did at the stage. It didn't matter much . . . she pretty much had the music memorized. She couldn't even remember how many times she had gotten to Wendy's place and this soundtrack had been playing at full blast while Wendy was sipping Chardonnay and prancing around in that old blue terrycloth robe and shouting "It's hot as hell . . . in Philadel-phia!" Wendy was swept up in the theatrics of it all. It was a good company and they really seemed to be enjoying performing as much as the crowd enjoyed watching. Her mouth moved along with each and every single word, and she sometimes mentally chastised herself when she got a word or moment of inflection wrong. She also glanced Wendy's way from time to time and noticed that her date was paying no attention to what was on stage. 'I wish I could make this easier for you,' she thought somewhat sadly. She sipped her wind and leaned back in the plush chair, listening to John Adams launch into his rant about the nature of Congress. ------------- ------------- Hours later . . . ------------- ------------- Despite her internal turmoil, Cindy was happy about how the evening had gone. Wendy had been grinning from ear to ear the entire play, and that grin had stayed with her all the way out to the car. Wendy had insisted on stopping for ice cream afterward (even though she was mildly lactose intolerant and didn't have much of an appetite anyway) because she knew how much of a chocolate-chip-cookie-dough-ice-cream fanatic that Cindy was. The athletic brunette mumbled something about Wendy trying to make her fat as she scarfed down a double-scoop in a cup. Wendy found the idea of Cindy EVER being "fat" to be amusing if somewhat ludicrous. The girl had an energy about her that hat attracted Wendy to her almost instantly. All of Cindy's clients thought the world of her, and Wendy understood why. And with each passing moment, she became increasingly interested in getting that sweet woman back to Wendy's place to finish off the night in the right way. Cindy had similar things on her mind as she parked her little car right outside the complex where Wendy lived. Arm in arm, they took the long way back to Wendy's front door, stopping at the gardens that Wendy had liked so much and listening to the night birds chatter away. Cindy had to talk Wendy out of her plan to toilet paper another resident's landscaping . . . the resident in question was a disagreeable old bat who never had a nice thing to say about anyone. Wendy had traditionally responded by being as annoying sweet as she possibly could, just to get on the old lady's nerves. When they finally got to Wendy's door, the slim woman turned around and leaned against the heavy wood, her hands behind her back and resting on the door knob. "What?" she said coyly. "Did you think you were getting invited inside? What would the neighbor's think? I have a reputation to uphold!" she added, using an exaggerated Southern-bell accent. "Yeah, but your reputation is one of being a shameless hussy," Cindy shot back. "But I suppose I could just wait out here if you prefer. Of course, my other clothes are in there," she added, a little more demurely. She hooked the straps of her little black dress with her thumbs and pulled them over her shoulders and slowly downward until her firm breasts threatened to pop out. "Cindy!" Wendy say, positively aghast . "What are you . . ." ""I don't think I put this dress on right," Cindy purred. "It seems to be falling off." The dress crept downward another inch, with her nipples on the verge of coming into view. Wendy turned around and quickly unlocked her door. As soon as the deadbolt slid to the side, she was spun around again and lifted from her feet by her much more fit lover. "Carrying me across the threshold?" Wendy asked, suddenly almost shy. "You think you're in love with me or something?" "Ever and ever," Cindy replied, kissing Wendy long and deep as she pushed her way through the door with Wendy still in her arms. 'She's way too light,' Cindy thought idly as she carried her woman to the bedroom. 'I wish she'd put on a little weight.' She was glad that it was dark in the apartment . . . Wendy wouldn't approve of Cindy's thoughts, and she could read her face like a book. Cindy quickly put her thoughts aside. She wanted to make the rest of that night as special as she could. She lay Wendy down on the comforter. The only illumination they had was from the night-light next to the nightstand, but it was enough. "I'm gonna take good care of you," Cindy whispered, running her hand up the front of Wendy's dress until she reached that slender neck. "You always have," Wendy replied, waiting for her lover to lower her lips down just a little further. Then she felt that kiss . . . the kind of kiss you waited a lifetime for. Soft and strong . . . hot and heady . . . a mixture of fine wine and hot coffee waking up your nerves while making your head spin! She responded by touching the side of Cindy's knee and then slowly stroking her thigh. "How did I ever deserve you?" Cindy didn't respond. She just helped Wendy roll onto her stomach, then slowly unzipped her dress. She peeled it away from Wendy's body, exposing the soft cotton undergarments she wore. Wendy actually preferred silk, but it tended to irritate her skin those days. She undid Wendy's bra and pulled it off, then sat next to her lover on the bed and placed her hands on the woman's shoulders. "Ooh, what did I do to deserve this?" Wendy asked as Cindy began the gentle kneading of her slim shoulders. "You were a sexy woman that I can't keep my hands off of," Cindy said, kissing her lover on the back of the neck. She loved the little shiver that such an act incited. She touched her tongue to the goosebumps that had popped up all over her lover's neck. "You're just making it worse you know," Wendy whispered. "I plan on making it all better in just a minute." She had meant that to sound sexy . . . it didn't sound that way in her head. She moved on though, kissing her way down Wendy's spine and letting her hot breath caress the small of the woman's back. Wendy turned her head to get a better look at her "seducer." She bit her lip . . . 'She's too damn beautiful to be hanging out with me all the time anyway,' she thought. 'But tonight . . . she IS with me.' Cindy stopped her tender attentions for a moment and reached into her purse. She had a small bottle of warming KY in there. She spread it on her hands, then returned those hands to Wendy's shoulders, beginning the shoulder rub all over again. "Hmm . . . I think things might get a bit messy," Wendy cooed. "I was rather planning on it." Cindy stood up and peeled her dress off. She had gone braless that evening and her underwear barely qualified as an actual garment. She straddled Wendy's back (while making sure not to put too much weight on the woman) and ran her hands from the back of the ribcage all the way up to Wendy's neck. "Hey," Wendy said, almost chuckling. "I thought I told you to watch the hair." "Oops," Cindy said, not caring much about Wendy's hair. "Just means that I'll have to find another place to put my hands." With that, she pushed one hand between Wendy's slender thighs and pressed a slick finger into the girl's sex. Long, slow movements from top to bottom ensued. Wendy was quite content just to lie there and let Cindy work her magic. Her lover's compassion was only surpassed by her capacity for passion. And she felt a growing warmth in her body that only a lover's caress could entice. "Let me turn over," Wendy said. "I want to look at you." Cindy raised herself and helped Wendy turn over. She wasn't sure how much her lover would be able to actually see, but she didn't much care. But Wendy's eyes had adjusted easily to the dim light, and was captivated by the eerie blue glow that washed over Cindy's taut body. The woman had always taken pride in her appearance, and her job kept her on her feet a lot. Wendy was beginning to buck her hips a little against her lover's finger, and that edged Cindy on. One or two fingers alternated between deep penetration and rubbing-the-surface action. Wendy placed her fingertips on the soft fabric over her woman's mound and started to rub. She really couldn't do much from her position, but it wasn't always about the result . . . sometimes it was just about the action. "That's it baby," Cindy said with a chuckle. Both women always thought that "talking dirty" was corny, but that just made them do it to make the other laugh. And when she heard Wendy snickering, Cindy knew she had done her job. "Give it to momma," she continued. "You know what . . ." "Shut up!" Wendy laughed. Cindy leaned over and kissed the woman on the mouth, making it take a long time. "Make me," she sighed. Wendy mustered her strength and held her lover's face close and gave her a kiss of her own. And they kept it up for seconds . . . minutes . . . Wendy didn't know how long. She knew she was cumming when it finally ended. Her orgasms weren't particularly vigorous, but they made her feel wonderful just the same. "You DO realize that I owe you one?" Wendy sighed. "And no saying 'It doesn't matter' or 'You don't really need to.' My night . . . I get to taste you." 'Damn,' Cindy thought. 'She headed my excuses off at the pass.' She smiled. Wendy was always smarter than she was. "Okay, where do you want me? Okay, THAT was a stupid question." She shimmied up the bed on her knees, placing one leg on each side of Wendy's face and then grabbing the headboard. She lowered herself gently onto her lover's face, making sure not to put too much pressure on her neck. She felt her underwear being pushed out of the way and then that gentle tongue slipped inside. Wendy savored the taste of her lover's pleasure center. She could tell that Cindy had just recently shaved . . . too smooth and delicious. She pressed in for a few licks, and then sucked on each inner labium in turn. "As fresh as the first day I laid eyes on it," Wendy said approvingly, burying her tongue in that perfect quim. Tomorrow Cindy made a point to moan and breathe heavily. It wasn't Wendy's best work, but she wanted Wendy to feel good about everything she did. And it was certainly good enough to make her cum after several minutes of continuous and dedicated attention. Wendy was gasping as the exertion, combined with the attempt to breath and intake cum at the same time, proved to be more than she could handle. Cindy heard how labored her lover's breath was and quickly scooted down Wendy's body. She stopped long enough to mesh lips again, tasting her own juices as they melded with Wendy's lipstick. Then she moved down a little further, taking Wendy's sensitive nipples into her mouth and sucking on them. Then she moved on again, kissing her lover's naval before finally reaching Wendy's already outspread thighs. "It's like you were expecting this," Cindy said slyly. "Who? Me?" was the not-so-innocent response. "Yeah, you." Cindy touched her tongue to Wendy's clit, flicking it quickly and seeing what kind of response she got. When Wendy moaned lightly, she knew that the woman was still very much in the mood. 'The mind is willing,' she thought as she devoured her lover alive. Despite her arousal, Wendy felt herself growing very tired very quickly. But she knew that Cindy wouldn't stop until SHE felt that Wendy had been satisfied. So she relaxed and just let everything build inside her, lapping first like gentle waves and building to the crescendo of a tsunami. 'This is taking a lot longer than usual,' Cindy thought glumly. But she continued on, working her fingers and tongue into Wendy's body like participants in an intricate dance. 'Poke here, tug there,' she thought. 'Soon . . .' But "soon" turned out to be several minutes away, despite Cindy's best efforts. Normally, she wouldn't care so much about the time it took, but she wanted so much to know that Wendy had enjoyed herself. She wanted to cuddle and talk . . . Wendy sighed as her body gave a little shiver and she groaned happily. "You never cease to deliver," she said, chuckling and then giving off a slight cough. Cindy crawled down the bed and brought the covers with her, pressing her body close to Wendy's and cocooning them in warmth. "It'll be okay," Wendy said before Cindy could utter a word. Cindy found herself wishing with all her heart that it would be as her lover promised. ---------------- ---------------- Four hours later . . . ---------------- ---------------- Cindy's eyes shot open, taking it the faint blue light that permeated the room. She slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom. But on returning, her eyes noticed the time listed on the clock. The numbers "3:35" had never seemed so ominous before. It was the next day . . . when Wendy said she would be leaving. "Please be wrong," Cindy said, her eyes welling up and her head throbbing. "Just this once, be wrong." She walked to the bed and knelt, looking at Wendy's face. Her eyes were open . . . Cindy could tell that much. But they weren't looking at Cindy . . . they were staring at where Cindy had been laying. "No," Cindy muttered, her breathing becoming ragged and labored. She reached out and put her fingers against Wendy's throat. "No!" she shouted, flicking on the light. She pushed the covers back and placed her ear against Wendy's pale . . . too pale . . . naked chest. Cindy would have screamed, but the noise died in her throat. Wendy hadn't been wrong . . . she had known. Cindy was crying in earnest now . . . there were other things she could try, but she knew in her heart what the results would be. She looked at Wendy's form and cried some more. She managed to reach up and close those eyes . . . that was when she noticed Wendy's hair. That damn wig that Wendy had insisted on wearing . . . it was her last real vanity. Cindy had tried to tell her she was always beautiful, but Wendy . . . Wendy had to hold on to that one thing. Cindy had never felt so alone in her life. The room where she had experienced so much pleasure those last few years suddenly seemed too cold and far too small. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up, which just added to the pounding in her head and made her feel even more stale inside. Finally . . . she wasn't sure how long it had been . . . she composed herself enough to do what needed to be done. She stood up and walked to the table where her work clothes were nicely folded. There was a rose on her work shirt . . . it hadn't been there the night before. 'Wendy did that,' she thought. Wendy had always loved roses. She pulled her light blue slacks on first, then her flowery shirt. Next came the shoes and finally her nametag . . . "Cindy Regal: Springfield Valley Hospice." She sat in the uncomfortable chair next to the table and just stared. Her hand kept drifting to the phone, but she would pull it back like she was being threatened by a snake. The moment she picked up that phone . . . the moment she made the call . . . then it was official. She kept hoping in the back of her mind that it wasn't going to happen . . . that Wendy was going to open her eyes and tell her she was being a fuddy-duddy. She looked at the clock again. It was 4:01 a.m. Then she watched the digits flicker and change . . . "4:02 a.m." She steeled her shoulders and lifted the receiver, hitting only a single button for the front desk. "Yes, Ms. Layfield?" came a warm, manly Jamaican voice. "What'choo doin' up this early?" Cindy sniffed. "It's not Ms. Layfield," she uttered in a horse voice. "This is Cindy." "Cindy! You startin' yer rounds awfully early," Bobby said slyly. While everyone knew that that relationships with the patients were technically prohibited, everyone at the hospice liked Wendy and were willing to look the other way in this case. Cindy had made her so happy the last few years. "Bobby . . . she's gone." Silence at the other end. "Gone?" "Yeah," Cindy said. "She died last night in her sleep." "Stay there," Bobby said, his heart obviously breaking. "I'll send someone." Cindy put down the phone and placed her face in her hands. But all she could do was ache, because she was fresh out of tears. While she waited for someone to arrive, she adjusted Wendy's hair and kissed her on the cheek, but she refused to say goodbye. ---------- ----------------------- Three days later . . . ---------- ----------------------- 'She lied,' Cindy thought as she sat quietly in the front row of the hall. 'She promised it would get easier.' She heard a low murmur coming from behind her. The room was packed. Wendy had many friends in life, and a great deal of family who had loved her dearly. She was someone who had never been wanting for a friendly ear or a friendly word, and she had offered her own to many over her life. The bench next to her creaked a little and she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ready?" came a feminine voice. It was Maria, Wendy's sister. Cindy turned and hugged the girl who had been like a sister to her from the moment they had met. Cindy loved all of Wendy's family. That hadn't been one of those families that put there loved ones into assisted living as soon as it became uncomfortable for them to have her around. It had been Wendy's choice to live at the hospice. She hadn't wanted to put anyone out. Every one of them had kept in constant contact with Wendy, visiting as often as Wendy had been able to stand being doted on. Finally Cindy nodded and walked up to the little podium facing the crowd, which quieted automatically. "On behalf of the Layfield family, I'd like to thank everyone for coming," Cindy said. Then she paused. "I find myself in the unenviable position of trying to come up with words to describe the life of someone who used words to make her living. Since I don't think I could ever live up to her example, I'll just make this short and sweet. Especially since I could almost hear her telling me to hurry it up, since that casket isn't going to bury itself." There was a chuckle that emanated from the collective throng. That's just the kind of thing that Wendy would have said. "I met Wendy just over two years ago," Cindy began. "She had already been fighting cancer for a year at that point. Right away, I knew she was different. There was no moping . . . none of that doubt I've seen in all my years of nursing. The second her family had left, she was bugging me to get her a rum and coke so she could have something to drink while watching her soap operas." Another laugh ensued. "I knew immediately that this woman was going to be my friend. I didn't realize . . . realize at the time," she continued, trying not to choke on her own words, "that 'friend' was just the first stop on our relationship. I had seen some courageous people in my time, but no one with the kind of fire that she had. It was like the cancer was just a footnote in her life . . . not the last chapter. By the time I met her, she was six months past when she had been told she was going to die anyway. I don't think she had cheated death so much as she chose to ignore it . . . like a guy hitting on you at the bar even after you've told him you aren't interested." Cindy smiled and looked at Wendy's family. "She told me that she was never afraid of dying, because she had already accomplished almost everything she could ever want . . . had a good family life . . . a good career where she wrote a lot of books that made people feel good. I asked her if there was anything she still wanted out of life. She just gave me this sly look at said, 'We'll just have to see.' It took me a year to figure out that she'd been talking about me." She chuckled. "That bitch was always one step ahead of me." The crowd laughed louder. Even the ones who were trying to be somber had to chuckle. Wendy had never been too keen on propriety on good manners. She thought they were pompous devices of stagnant minds. But Cindy's mood sobered a bit. "I had been in a lot of relationships before Wendy, but being with her made me feel more alive than anyone I had ever met. No one had ever made me throw away all the protocols and just enjoy every day of life like she did, and for that . . . for that Wendy, I will always love you and be grateful to you." Cindy had to pause and collect herself. "Even the day before . . . before she died, she was ready to live one more day. And she knew . . . I don't know how, but she knew." She met the eyes of each family member, one at a time. "I showed up at her apartment early and she told me . . . she told me that she felt a peace in her heart and her soul and . . . and that her time was just about over. She told me that she wouldn't live to see another sunrise and . . . and that she wanted to make each remaining hour last as long as she could." Cindy stopped and wiped her eyes. This was hurting her more than she could have imagined. Wendy's belief was no longer a hypothetical . . . it was a reality. "I didn't believe her . . . or maybe I just didn't want to. But I called in sick and promised her that I would give her a day we could both remember. She just smiled . . . spent some time talking to family on the phone and packing up belongings so no one else would have to deal with them while I was supposed to figure out what to do. And damn her, she made it easy! She knew with such clarity what was going to happen and . . . and yet all she wanted was dinner and a show . . . a glass of wine and some . . . company," Cindy added, blushing furiously. "Things that we had done so many times . . . but this one I'll remember until the end of days." She looked over the crowd. "I would like to think that I . . . that we ALL . . . could learn a thing or two from her. I hope that the love I'll keep in my heart from now until my time comes will provide me with the joy of life that she kept in hers all these years. And that when I am facing my last 'tomorrow,' that I will do so with the same humor and dignity with which she left this world." Cindy stopped for the last time and slowly made her way to her seat. Wendy's mom took Cindy's trembling hand and thanked her for everything she had done . . . for everything she had been to her daughter. But Cindy barely heard her . . . she realized that inside, she had finally said goodbye. But somewhere in her mind . . . or maybe somewhere deeper . . . she heard Wendy's voice one more time. She heard that promise that this wouldn't be forever . . . that they'd be together again someday. And the thought of seeing Wendy again . . . somehow or somewhere . . . made Cindy's own "tomorrow" seem much more bearable. ----------- -------- The End . . . Tomorrow, Daddy Hi, Daddy. I’m just laying in my dorm bed, my roommate is asleep so I have to be quiet... I’m so excited to be coming home for the weekend. I know you told me not to touch myself tonight, but I’m so fucking horny...thinking about finally getting to fuck you...after all this time apart. Can I just play with myself, a little? * * * * * Click Here to listen. (9.5 min/mp3) * * * * * Tomorrow I'll be a Sex Slave I woke up slowly, luxuriously. I knew where I was and that no one was going to make any demands on me this morning. After all it was my birthday, and my last day of freedom. Tomorrow I would be a sex slave, indentured to the government for one year, not allowed any clothes, and soon to lose whatever virginities I brought with me. But today I was an eighteen-year-old adult, a full-grown woman, and master of my own body. What to wear, what to wear? I thought, as I brushed my teeth. I looked in the mirror and saw a pretty face, long golden hair, and a fabulous body. Why wear anything? Tomorrow I won't be allowed any clothes. Why not start early. I could feel my nipples tighten at the thought of going out naked. And my pussy was starting to juice. I ran down the stairs to the kitchen, excited by the prospect of spending the whole day naked when I didn't have to. I was used to dressing like a slut. Being naked in public would be different, but not a whole lot. "Morning Emily. Happy birthday," Ma said without looking up. "It's almost afternoon. What do you want for breakfast?" Ma was wearing a little yellow t-shirt, which left her midriff bare up to the very bottom of her shapely, 38D tits, and nothing else. Her big, brown muff unfolded at the top of long, shapely legs as she got up. She looked at me in surprise. "Where are your clothes, Emily?" "I'm an adult today, Ma. I can do whatever I want. Including going naked." "No, no, no, Emily!" Ma wailed. "Don't you understand the rules? Only slaves go naked. You're not a slave till tomorrow." Ma was funny about the proprieties. I turned on my heel and went to put something on, something less than Ma was wearing. I decided on a bikini top from one of my bathing suits, not the smallest top I owned but one, which gave my 34B's a nice bouncy ride. I ran out the door of my room right into Dad. "Happy birthday baby," he said as he palmed my juicy muff. "You are excited about something," and he stuck his long middle finger into my slit and deep up my pussy. My legs opened and I nearly fell down at the sensation. This wasn't the first time Daddy had fingered me and I always loved it. Both my hands went to my clit and I leaned into him. He caught me, held me up and smacked me with a big, wet, tongue sticker of a kiss. "I can't wait to get home tonight," he said and then he was gone, off to work, leaving me in a sticky mess. Wow! I thought. That's some birthday present. It's a good thing I shave my pubes. I returned to my room for a tissue to wipe girlie—no—womanly juices off my crotch. "That's a little more like it," Ma said as I returned to the kitchen. She examined my blue bikini top as I sat on the lone high stool in the room. I had to straddle the sides with my legs so anyone could see my naked lips spread wide. Ma pronounced herself satisfied. Just then my friend Alex popped in from next store. "Happy birthday, Emily," he said enthusiastically. "Tomorrow's the big day." Alex and I had the same birthday so he would be joining the nude corps with me. Then Alex noticed my pussy hanging out between my spread legs. "Hoo boy! You're starting early. He came over and palmed my muff, sticking two fingers up my slit, grabbed my barely covered breast with the other hand, and gave me a hard love bite on the neck. "Break it up you two," Ma said, playfully swatting Alex on his bikini-clad bottom. "Happy birthday, Alex." Alex turned from me and grabbed my mother the same way, except all five of his fingers slid up her cunt. He started pumping his hand furiously and Ma came immediately, sagging with both arms around his neck, her hands clawing at his naked back. Finally Ma slumped in a chair and gasped in orgasmic bliss, "Are you hungry Alex? I can make pancakes." "No Ma," I cried, jumping off the stool. "We're going to the beach." Alex had an old Jeep, the square boxy kind with no top. I got in the front seat and spread my legs wide. Alex reached over and pinched my clit then slid two fingers up my hole. He played with me for a few minutes until I came, a mild orgasm compared to the one Daddy had given me but I didn't mind. I'd have many orgasms at the beach. We stopped to pick up our friends Natty and Joe. Natty and Joe were both a year older than Alex and I. They had already been sex slaves for a year and now were out of the nudie corps. They dressed more conservatively than the two of us newly minted eighteen-year-olds, in shorts and t-shirts, but they did not hesitate to greet us like we wanted. In my case, Joe pulled me out of the front seat and grabbed my crotch, sliding two fingers up my cunt and penetrating my ass with his thumb. He lifted me into the back seat and finger-fucked me into orgasm. Natty slid in next to Alex, liberated his package from his brief swimming trunks, and went down on him in a big way. "Happy birthday," they both yelled after we came. Alex revved up the Jeep for the beach. We lived in a small, central Florida town about a half hour from the Atlantic. There was just enough time on the ride for Joe to tell us the story of his first day as a sex slave in the Federal United Corps (FUC), or the nude corps as everyone called it. "My birthday is in April so I had to wait a month till senior year was over," Joe started. "That was the longest month of my life, knowing I was technically old enough to have sex but not able to find a willing partner. I wore myself out masturbating. And the senior prom was fun. I went naked from the waist down and got blowjobs from half the girls in my class. Still, I wish my parents had waited until the approved time to impregnate so I could be in sync with all the other kids." It must be hard to have a birthday outside the first week of June, I thought. Still, it happened far too often. The date for joining FUC was June 8. If your birthday was June 9 or later you just had to wait till the next cycle. Everyone joined FUC when they were 18. "Where did you join?" Alex asked. "I went to Orlando," Joe continued. "The office was in a big building downtown, but after they processed us we were bussed to dorms near the amusement parks. That's were we worked, at the parks." "What did you do at the parks?" I asked. "Some days we worked inside and some outside. Outside was more fun cause everyone could see us. I liked sticking my head up some Mom's skirt and eating her out while the hubby and kiddies watched. A couple of times I had to give the man a blowjob afterwards. And I love fucking out in the open where everyone could watch. But let me tell you about the first day." "OK," Alex and I yelped. Alex had to keep his eyes on the road but I didn't. I leaned over Joe's crotch and fumbled for his cock. "I reported to an office in a high rise building," Joe groaned as he released his turgid stick from his shorts, "dressed just like I am now, or was." I had pulled his shorts off and was playing with his stubbly balls. "After signing in I was led to a big room where a bunch of people were milling around, about twenty boys and twenty girls. The sergeant, they actually called leaders sergeant, called us to attention and asked for a volunteer to strip. One of the girls was out of her clothes in a flash. The sergeant had her stand with her legs far apart in front of us and everyone filed by and coped a feel of her big tits and juicy cunt. One by one he had each of us strip and get felt up. When everyone was naked he paired us up, boy-girl, and had us fuck, standing up, doggy style. It was my first fuck." Technically you were eligible to fuck on your eighteenth birthday, but custom dictated waiting until the first day of nudie corps duty. Many TV shows depicted that first fuck as something romantic. But it didn't sound like Joe's had been that way. "Did you know the name of the girl?" I asked Joe, dislodging his cock from my mouth so I could talk. "No, I never found out," Joe replied, "because we had a gang-bang orgy right afterwards and then got shipped out in small groups." "How about you, Natty?" Alex asked. "What was your first one like?" "It was more like summer camp. I was down in Miami—South Beach. And we all stayed in one hotel all year long. My first guy was named Sean. We was a black guy with the most amazing cock. It was big and would stay hard forever. I enjoyed him all year. We went outside too, mostly on the beach, but I had sex everywhere—and with everyone. I really enjoyed women. We have to get it on later, Emily." Now I couldn't wait to get to the beach and have Natty eat me out. My Ma had lapped at my pussy before but now I was going to have an expert. Alex and Joe and Daddy would have to wait. And my first fuck could wait--until tomorrow. Tomorrow Is Another Day Time and other events in my life have been a constraint on me completing any stories lately, but I just stumbled on this one that I started some time ago, but never got very far with. Then lo and behold, an ending crept up behind me and took me completely by surprise. No depth, no character development, no sex whatsoever, no proper start and an ending that will not satisfy all of you. But I'm happy with it, and hope that most of you will glean some pleasure from it. +++++++++++++ "Oh my God Mike," my lovely girl friend Debbie declared, raising her hand to her mouth in surprise. "You surprised me. I really wasn't expecting that." "We've been going out for over a year now Debbie," I reminded her. "We get on so well and everything." "I know Mike," she mumbled back. "But marriage! I just wasn't expecting you to ask me. Not yet anyway." "No time like the present," I pushed her, a bit shocked that she hadn't leapt into my arms when I'd asked her to marry me a few moments before, expecting her to accept my offer with enthusiasm." "I know Mike," she repeated thoughtfully, chewing on her fingernail, a bad habit that we both thought she had broken some time ago. "It's just that ......" "Just what?" I demanded when her voice faded away, my own joyous mood beginning to crumble. "We've been living together for six months and hardly had a single argument. You tell me how much you love me five times a week." "I do Mike. I do. I love you so much it hurts sometimes." "Then what's the problem sweetheart?" "I just don't know if I'm ready yet," Debbie replied, almost sobbed. "I do love you but I'm not sure I'm ready to make that commitment." "It's a big step Debbie," I found myself encouraging her, my confidence returning once I'd discovered her hesitation was due to nervousness, rather than any doubts about me. "But we're in love. We suit one another. We both like kids. Both our parents would certainly approve. What could be more appropriate than us making it official?" "The commitment," she replied simply, a single tear welling up in her eye. "If we both love one another how can it be so hard to make the commitment to grow old with one another?" "No trouble at all with that Mike," Debbie replied, her smile, uncertain though it was, the first that I'd seen since I'd popped the question. "I'd really like that." "Then what's the problem?" I asked again, relaxing now that she was getting over the initial surprise and coming round to the idea of us getting hitched." "That's not that commitment I'm talking about Mike," Debbie whispered. "What?" "I said spending the rest of my life with you is not the problem Mike." "Then what is?" I asked, more confused than ever. "Exclusivity Mike," Debbie continued in little more than a whisper. "I don't understand." "I'm guessing that if we married, then you'd expect me to commit to being faithful to you Mike, and I'm not sure I can do that. Not yet anyway. I'm simply not ready for a one man one woman relationship." Gulp! "You do understand don't you honey?" Debbie asked when I found myself unable to respond to her last statement, shocked into silence by the implications of what she'd just said. "Faithful?" Was all that I could manage to stutter. "Yes. You know. No other boyfriends or anything," she shocked me with. "You want to replace me?" I grunted, confused. "You want a different boyfriend? I thought ....." "Of course I don't want to replace you, you silly man," Debbie interrupted me, giving me one of her sympathetic looks. "You're my man Mike, my number one man." "So what are saying Debbie?" I demanded, even more confused. "I'm your number one man aren't I?" "Of course," she explained. "The others aren't so important." "You're telling me there's a number two man in your life," I spluttered out, my life as I knew it collapsing around me. "Not exactly a number two even Mike," Debbie mumbled, but loud enough that her words hit me like a train. "The other guys are just casual dates. Guys who hit on me at work or on the train or whatever. I hardly ever even go out on a second date with most of them." "You've been dating other men?" I screeched incredulously. "Of course I have Mike. Not every week or anything. Just when the occasion arises." "You've been fucking other guys behind my back?" "NO!" She exclaimed angrily. "I swear that I haven't been to bed with another man since I moved in with you Mike. I wouldn't dream of doing that to you." "But you date them?" "Yes." Kiss them?" "If I like them enough, sure." Make out with them?" "A bit. If I really like them." "You let them feel your tits?" "Sometimes yes. A few of them." "Finger fuck you?" "That's a yucky term," she replied, screwing up her face. "It's sometimes difficult to keep their hands away when I wear my short skirts though." "So it's no then," I sighed, stunned by what she'd told me, and trying to regain my equilibrium. "Not no, not just no," Debbie gasped, grabbing my arm. "Of course I want to marry you Mike, but just not this soon. We could get engaged if you want and plan to get hitched in a couple of years or so." "And meanwhile?" "We'll carry on as we are honey," Debbie smiled at me. "We'll be fine." I stood there staring at her, not sure how to express what I was feeling. Not sure of much anymore. "Well Mike, what do you think?" She demanded, grinning at me hopefully. "About what?" I replied. "My solution to your question honey," Debbie gushed tugging urgently at my arm. "What question?" "Your question honey," Debbie encouraged me, looking at me strangely. "I don't remember any question Miss," I responded, giving her an equally strange look back. "Mike don't be silly," she cried, clinging onto to my arm. "You asked me to marry you." "Sorry Miss, but I don't know what you're talking about," I growled at her, pushing her hand away from my arm. "Who are you anyway?" "Mike," she sobbed. "It's me Debbie, your girlfriend." "Sorry Miss, I think you've got me mixed up with someone else." I informed her sternly, pushing her away from me as she tried to wrap her arms around me. "I don't think I know you, do I?" "Mike honey; don't do this to me," she cried, tears running down her cheek, as she followed me, stumbling, as I backed away from her. "Leave me alone young lady," I was forced to raise my voice at her as I physically pushed her away. "You're passably attractive but not my type at all." "But ....But ....But ...." She sobbed, the tears now flowing freely and her make up smudging and making a mess of her face. Strange that I'd never noticed that she wore too much make up before that moment. "It's the commitment Miss," I told her, looking down at her as she slumped to the floor. "Not ready to commit myself to a slut. But give me a ring sometime maybe. Five to ten years would be fine with me." "But Mike," she screamed as I made to leave. "You can't leave me here like this. How will I get home?" "I suggest you give some thought as to where you now live rather than how you're going to get there," was my stinging reply. "But Mike!" "Goodbye," was my final remark as I left the building. "Nice to have met you." ____________ I drove home in silence. No surprise there, as there was nobody to talk to. Didn't stop me from thinking deep thoughts though. Would I miss her? Probably! Would I be able to replace her? Eventually. What was her name again? What did it matter? Have I still got the number of that slinky blonde with the boobs who spent the whole afternoon flirting with me last Friday? No long term future with a bimbo like that if I'm being honest, but as a means to an end maybe .....? Oh well! Tomorrow is another day, and there's a lot more fish in the sea. Time to get my rod out?????? ++++++++++++ Short and sweet, but maybe it will get me back into writing mood again. We'll see.