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Twenty Minutes

By: papadog



Beverly was sitting casually on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, legs crossed at the ankles, supporting her upper body with one locked-elbow arm, an expression of apprehensive fascination on her face. Her lean angular body was exciting to me even as she was dressed in a tan shirtwaist closed with dark brown buttons from hem to collar. She commented that she had never done anything like this before and asked me if I had. "Sorta," I had told her. She replied that she would like to hear about that sometime.

I pointed at her chest and asked her to open the two top buttons of her dress. After she did I asked her to open one more. "Now five buttons in five minutes," I had said to her pointing to the bottom button at the hem of her dress. I wasn't watching the clock but I saw her glance at it frequently. It seemed like a very long time until the skirt of her dress parted and I could see the bare skin of her thighs above the dark tops of her stockings.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"What's that for," she had asked as I stood across the bed from her.

"It helps me to not come so fast because my testicles can't ascend toward my body as they want to when I near orgasm," I explained to her as I drew the shoestring tight, pulling the ends of the leather strap together. Then I tied the string in a bowknot. My testicles bulged below the strap, trapped in the taught scrotum. "It's called a Slocum... get it... slow cum."

"That's sooo bad," she said with a mixture of amusement and chagrin on her face.

I returned her smile and said, "Sorry."

"What if I reached over and untied it during the twenty minutes," she asked with a mischievous grin.

"Automatic default," I shot back at her. "I would demand carnal knowledge of you immediately."

"Then I better not do that, huh," she said smiling.

I was half sitting, half-lying in the center of the bed with a couple of pillows under my upper back and head. I had stroked my penis for almost ten minutes before I began to get hard. I knew I would be inhibited and I was very pleased when I was erect enough to penetrate her. There was a quiver in my voice when I asked her, "Start time?" She nodded and looked at the digital alarm clock on the bedside stand.

I issued my first non-word sound. It was kind of a grunt. I continued to announce the intense pleasure I was experiencing while I tantalized just the head of my swollen dick. There were moans and growls and whimpers. Then I sensed I was too close to orgasm so I stopped stroking myself and waited for the eye of my dick to close. When it was completely closed I glanced at her before I added a couple of drops of baby oil to the head of my penis and began stroking just the head. I moaned and growled my pleasure as the head began to swell and the eye opened again. I stopped and started several more times making long eye contacts with her.

"I never expected to get so turned on just watching... and the sounds you make," she said gazing at the clock. "Can't you do it without making noise," she asked.

"Yeah, I can but I'm not going to... ahgggg, uhhhhh," I told her. "With sounds we touch each other, with sights we touch each other", I added. "Time to join me, ooooh."

"Okay, " she agreed quickly as though she had been waiting for me to tell her to begin. She stood up and moved away from me, turned and backed up against the dresser across from the foot of the bed. Spreading her legs, she slid her right hand inside the champagne-colored string bikini. I saw the dark stain in the crotch of her panties where the excitement had begun to ooze out of her. As she began stroking herself her body bent slightly forward and the frown on her face turned to pleasure the way the sun comes from behind a cloud to bathe the land in brightness. The sight of those long legs and her hand moving excited me.

"Why don't you just take'em offffaah?" I groaned at her.

"I'm sorry I'm so shy, I will for the next one," she hissed.

"Ahhhoooh!," I moaned nearly stimulating myself to the point of no return. I watched the pleasure build in herher eyes were wide and her jaw was clenched, accentuating her high cheekbones. The veins and tendons of her long neck were strained against her skin and a flush began to crawl toward her face. I saw the gooseflesh bloom on the front and insides of her bare thighs above her stocking tops. Half standing, half sitting she had her first orgasm in less than two minutes. The expression on her face could have been one of agony but I knew it was ecstasy. She made no sound.

With grace she began to move to her left toward the bathroom door. I implored her, "take off your panties, come onto me, let me fill you with my love."

"No, we cannot touch," she breathed as she twisted sideways to assure she was out of my reach. She moved into the bathroom and partially closed the door. When she swung the door open her dress and panties were gone. She was still wearing her bra, garterbelt, stockings and medium heel shoes. She closed the toilet seat lid, settled onto it and spread her legs. Her rich brown eyes burned into me as I lay on the bed experiencing my own intense pleasure. Her hand moved down between her legs so her fingers could scoop up some of her juice to lubricate her clit. She was watching her fingers work between her legs and surprised herself with a squeal. Then she looked up at me, realizing that her noise had been during the silence between my moans of pleasure.

"Look at me when you come so our souls can touch," I urged. She agreed with a nod.

Her second climax came quickly after that. Her whole body quivered and then she became absolutely still. I watched the gooseflesh form on her thighs. She was not breathing. Then finally she screeched "aaahee! It was hard to see her eyes from that distance because she had not turned on the light in the bathroom. There was however, an intensity that came off her and nearly washed me over the edge into orgasm.

It was as if my moans and cries of pleasure finally began to draw her to me. She again sat on the bed on the side away from me, near my left leg. Her left leg was bent and resting on the bed, her right foot still on the floor. Her right hand was gently stroking her pleasure marble and I could see the beginning of another rolling, sweeping climax on her face. "Only been seven minutes," she whispered as she gazed at the clock.

I held my left arm out toward her with my wrist bent back to show her the palm of my hand.

"Stop, you waaant me to stop?" she breathed.

"No, touch my hand. I want to hold your hand while you come," I replied.

She shook her head slowly from side to side and said, "Can't touch."

"Pleeeeze," I moaned at her.

"Just hands," she admonished as she touched her palm to mine and interlaced her fingers between mine. I watched the tension build in her body. Her eyes were fixed on mine when the ecstasy washed across her face and rolled through her body. "Oh, ooh, oooh, gooooad!" she moaned as her hand tightened in mine. Her nails dug into my hand with more intensity than I had ever felt on the mountain.

Over a period of weeks I had trained her to hold out her hand palm up so I could place some thought or feeling into her hand. I had tried to give her something worthwhile each time in the words I spoke but part of the ritual was just touching her, connecting with her for a few moments. And always there was the hardness of her nails.

A minute or so later she reached over with her left hand and pulled on the shoestring holding the leather strap tight around the base of my scrotum. I felt the pressure release and groaned at her, "You remember what I told you about doing that?"

"Yes, of course I do," she replied as she knee walked onto the bed until she was straddling my hips and lowered herself onto me. I slid up into her easily, savoring her warm sheath as it encased my yearning cock. There was a look of surprise on her face as she drew a sharp breath through her open mouth. "Oh lord, you have me now," she moaned

"As you doooo meee," I groaned back at her. I thrust up into her several times. Every square millimeter of my shaft and head was in contact with the beautiful containment of her cunt. "Take off your bra...please," I moaned to her as I continued the slow thrusting. Her body swayed slightly as her hands went behind her back. I rammed up into her believing I could dislodge the now slack bra from her body. I reached up and pulled the straps off her shoulders and down her arms. I knew it was difficult for her. Long ago I had sensed that she wished her breasts were larger. I glimpsed her nipples and then moved my eyes to hers. She was staring straight ahead. "You're beautiful. And I love you," I groaned at her. She dropped her eyes to meet mine and a small smile spread across her face. When I gently gripped her nipples her eyes closed and her mouth fell open in an expression of pure delight.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It all started when a conversation with Beverly drifted into the area of sexual satisfaction one day. I asked her if she ever thought of me while she was in the shower and gave herself a few flicks of the clit while she was washing herself. She acted duly shocked drawing in a huge audible breath through her open mouth.

"You're outrageous," she scolded.

'"Yeah, I know," I responded. There was silence between us for several seconds and then I said, "Well, do you?"

"I'm not going to answer that," she sniffed.

"I notice you're not denying it," I smiled back at her. "That's what the law calls a tacit admission, your lack of denial. So you're in the seventy percent and not the thirty- percent group. I very much appreciate you not lying to me," I added.

"Seventy percent, thirty percent what?" she asked.

"Seventy percent of women admit they masturbate. The other thirty percent lie and say then don't," I answered.

She smiled and said, "Oh." Then she pursed her lips and said "and what about you," turning the subject toward me.

"What about me?" I countered.

"Do you... think about me when you're in the shower?" she asked.

"No, it's mostly when I am lying back on the bed with a big slippery erection in my hand. That's when I think about you," I told her. Her head bobbed, her eyes blinked and she almost choked.

"You masturbate?" she asked.

"Sure. I've become quite good at staying up on the high plateau of pleasure without coming until I want to. I fantasize that I make love to you for a long, long time and at the end you impale yourself on me and I have carnal knowledge of you," I said.

"I'm almost afraid to ask... how do you make love to me for a long time?" she asked, a quizzical smile on her lips.

"I kiss you a lot," I responded. "I kiss you there," I said as I pointed to her mouth. "Then I kiss you there and there," I said as I pointed to her breasts. "And then I kiss you there," I said pointing to the confluence of her hips and thighs.

"We gotta stop talking about this!" she insisted.

"Okay," I said, "but that won't keep either one of us from thinking about it, huh?" She nodded her head slowly as an expression of concern washed across her face.

"I gotta go," she said.

"See you next time, Hurry Girl," I said as she moved away. That was my nickname for her. Often she was so hurried that she would not stop to talk when I encountered her on the mountain trail.

Next time turned out to be a couple days later. She locked her elbow against her side so her forearm was extending straight out from her body. Her wrist was bent back so I could see the palm of her hand and her fingers. Was the message No, or Stop or was she protecting herself from me?... the gesture wasn't clear until she spoke. "You sure got me to thinking," she breathed.

"You and your half sentences. That drives me nuts when you do that," I scolded. "About what?"

"About what it would be like," she said.

"You just did it again... what's the 'it', get specific."

"Us!"

"Sorry lady but you have totally lost me. Let's start over." There was a look of exasperation on her face and she reached out and tapped my upper arm with the back of her hand. "I like it when you touch me. Do you like it when I touch you?" I asked.

"Yes, damnit, so don't do it!" she exclaimed.

"That makes almost as much sense as when you tell me you are attracted to me and then turn and run away," I commented.

"You... you," she sputtered. She knew I was toying with her, making her use the words she was so reluctant to utter. "Okay, I... you know... how it might be together," she stammered.

"Together?" I asked unable to suppress a smile.

"As in sex!" she hissed as the back of her hand banged against my upper arm again. Now she was smiling.

"I'd be bound up with anxiety and you'd be too, probably but I shouldn't speak for you," I responded.

"You get like that?" she asked with surprise in her voice.

"Yes"

"How did you know about me?" she asked rounding her shoulders and shuffling backwards a few inches as if she were experiencing discomfort in her solar plexus.

"Because I watch your body language and facial expressions," I told her. "Like just now when you closed your shoulders and moved away from me ever so slightly."

"Oh," she said

"I'll show you," I told her. "Just pay attention to the sensations in your body for the next thirty seconds while you listen to me, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed

I put my left hand on her right shoulder as we stood facing each other. Then I had her place her left hand on my right shoulder. "I want to make you squeal, I want to make you moan, I want to make you scream," I said. I watched her eyes get bigger and her breathing stop. "When I go down on you, I want you to be trimmed...and sweet,...and clean," I told her. I could sense her whole body tensing, preparing for flight. She had already yanked her left hand back from my shoulder. "What's the sensation and where is it?" I asked imperatively.

"Tightness here," she breathed as she tapped her solar plexus with all four fingers and thumb drawn together.

I told her, "When the sensation is an ache to be touched, then you will have overcome the fear you just experienced."

"How do I do that?"

"Imagine yourself physically pulling the negative feeling out of your body with one hand and then installing the positive feeling in its place with the other hand," I told her. She practiced the motions, first the removal and then the installation of the new attitude into her solar plexus with her other hand. She repeated the motions several times and began to giggle.

"That might work," she said as she turned and headed down the trail. Her arms were again moving in practice of removing and replacing feelings in her solar plexus.

I encountered her on the trail a couple of days later. "Sometimes you're really full of bullshit," she commented with a half smile. She was making the motions of removing and replacing feelings from her body, moving her hands in a smooth practiced rhythm. Then she clamped her hands on her hips and said, "l have a hard time believing what you said about...about... staying up for a long time."

"Well, I can," I replied. "It's an exquisite feedback loop in my own body. I am infinitely aware of where I am. I know when I am getting too close to the edge so I back off a little,

"How long do you... how long...? she mused.

"Oh, twenty or thirty minutes usually," I volunteered.

"What about with a woman?" she asked

"Nothing like that," I responded. "It's a whole different thing. It's not solo, I don't have absolute control... there's... another being, another soul involved, so I am only half of the equation." I took a long breath and added, "Sometimes I go limp.

She frown and I could see thought pictures flashing across her mind. "I'm absolutely fascinated with the idea," she admitted.

"Which idea, me going limp?" I asked

"No, no, of you staying up by yourself for twenty or thirty minutes," she responded.

"Well, a couple minutes ago you said you didn't believe me," I commented.

"I know, I know. I just can't get the picture in my mind of you doing that," she said. "Would you...?

There was a long silence that I finally broke. "You want to watch, huh?" I said.

"You could make a videotape for me," she replied with an impish grin.

"And what would you be doing while you're watching the tape?" I asked

"Watching," she said firmly.

"And?" I smiled at her.

She cocked her head to one side and smiled. "Doing what I'm watching you do on the tape," she said.

"And will you bring me a videotape of you doing that," I asked.

"My god, no," she said.

"Well, if you won't, then I won't either, so that's the end of that," I told her.

"Well, there is still the in-person thing," she countered.

"Oh, you just sit around with your stopwatch and then at the twenty minute mark I can just stop or shoot my wad, is that it," I retorted.

"Whatever," she blurted. I gazed directly into her eyes and slowly shook my head NO. "Welllll I could take over with my hand. I bet I could have you squirming and squirting in less than a minute," she grinned. "My god, I can't believe I said that," she choked as a blush spread up her neck and face.

No, the 'whatever' I want is you," I growled at her.

"How?" she asked.

"Fulfill the fantasy. Come on to me, literally," I said.

"No, we can't touch." There was a long pause and then she added, "The most I could do is get myself off while I'm with you." The blush washed over her again.

"That's all you want?" I asked

"No, I'll admit I fantasized about a lot more but that's as far as I'll go," she said firmly.

"Tell me about the fantasy," I said.

"What you said before. All the kisses... all over," she said very quietly.

"I can do that," I replied

"No, we can't touch," she repeated.

"So we both get ourselves off, is that right?"

"We can't touch!" she said again.

"It might make an interesting experience. When?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Damned if I didn't wilt. I tasted frustration and embarrassment, like the coppery taste of blood, like the iron taste of fear.

"It's okay," she said, "we'll keep practicing until we get it right." She snuggled against me. I was enjoying the contrast between the texture of her bare skin and the hard smoothness of her stockinged thighs. The lacy garterbelt had yet another texture to explore and enjoy.

The beauty of her slim muscled body was overwhelming. The whole length of her curled into me. It was a perfect fit. Thigh to thigh, belly to belly, her head tucked into the curl of my shoulder as I put my arm around her and my hand rested on her back. I realized I was laboring to breathe. I snorted a half laugh and told her, "You take my breath away, woman." She giggled happily and murmured a non-word sound of appreciation. More words spilled out... "I have wept for want of you, woman. No man has ever loved you as I do. No man ever will. Be my woman."

Her brown eyes sparkled as she raised her head to look directly into my eyes. "I love you too, I really doubt first you have to show me you really can last twenty minutes," she grinned.

Please send comments regarding this story to to the link below.

Twenty Minutes



To Graham, who always gets at least twenty minutes from me.

It seems it's every man's complaint about sex; he just wants to be left in peace and quiet for those twenty minutes of bliss after he's shot his bolt, but the woman never seems to understand. 

It begins when his last drops of cum have been spent and his limp dick slips from her squelchy pussy and it ends when his hormone levels recover their normal balance. The question is: why is this the time the woman chooses to have an in-depth discussion of their relationship? The chances are that in the hours preceding sex he has done everything he knows to charm her and create an erotic atmosphere. When in bed, he has used all his knowledge, skill and energy to relax her, arouse her, pleasure her and, hopefully, satisfy her. If actions speak louder than words, then he has painted her name in bright red letters on the largest billboard in town. 

So how come she can't have the grace to let him spend his twenty minutes of bliss in peace and quiet? Does he really have to listen to all her questions and, when inevitably he doesn't find a satisfactory answer, be accused of not caring and only wanting to talk to her when he wants to fuck her? After all, it is only twenty minutes and then he will be back to his normal attentive self again. 

It was exactly like that for Rodney. Every girlfriend he ever took to bed, and there were lots, would somehow interrupt his twenty minutes of bliss. No matter how much she seemed to enjoy the sex, she would skip out of bed, visit the bathroom, then return and want to discuss the relationship, just as he was drifting off into those moments of perfect relaxation.

It even happened on the one occasion he had sex with a married couple. He and the husband had both fucked the wife and, from the way she'd yelled with pleasure, Rodney expected she would collapse in an exhausted heap. But it wasn't to be. She scampered off to the bathroom and when she returned she sat heavily on the bed beside Rodney.

'What do you think about the relationship I have with my husband?' she asked.

As Rodney grew older, he began to think about sex with another man. He even masturbated whilst visualising what might happen. For a long time he dismissed it as just a fantasy and put it to the back of his mind. (The thought did occur to him that, after sex with another man, at least he would be able to have twenty minutes of uninterrupted bliss.)

One day Rodney met a man who seemed a little different. The man was attractive and very masculine and Rodney took a liking to him. Their conversations often drifted to intimate subjects and Rodney started to wonder about the man's intentions. His homosexual fantasy returned to his thoughts and he began to masturbate whilst imagining himself with his new friend. Although he didn't quite realise it, Rodney was being slowly seduced. 

Sure enough, the day arrived when the man made his move and propositioned Rodney for sex. Although he pretended to be reluctant, Rodney, who was never one to miss out on a new sexual experience, was more than happy to go along with the idea. 

The man turned out to be a careful and considerate lover. The 'virgin' Rodney experienced a multitude of new sensations as the man guided him through the in's and out's of man-to-man sex. The man used his hands skillfully on Rodney's body and took him as if he were a woman. 

When their orgasms were finally over, the man lay back in contentment. Rodney was about to do the same until he realised there was something very wet and sticky on his stomach, between his legs and beneath him. There was no way he could relax like that so he went off to the bathroom. 

Rodney cleaned himself up, amazed at the amount of milky fluid that was drying quickly on his body. He couldn't help but wonder about what had happened. The man had a much fitter body than his and, more importantly, a much bigger cock. It hadn't mattered at the time but now Rodney began to feel a little insecure about himself. He'd done his best to respond to the man but he wondered if he'd really pleased him enough. Perhaps he'd been too passive and the man was disappointed in him. He realised that his own pleasure must have been very obvious for anyone to see; after all, hadn't he just asked the man to fuck him harder and faster. But, what if the man thought he was really gay? 

Rodney went back into the bedroom and sat down noisily on the side of the bed next to the resting man. He gripped his arm and the man opened an eye.

'I really have to talk to you about our relationship...' said Rodney.



Twenty Minutes



Tonight had been the night from hell. Two deaths in one night. The first patient, a very kindly man, almost 80 years old, who spoke to her every night she was on duty. He always had a nice word, a bit of advice...and peppermint candy. She always smiled when she thought of him. The second death was a woman no one would miss. A nasty woman, close to 90, who never said a nice word to anyone. She even hated the wonderfully friendly dog that visited with the elderly every week.

Still, two deaths in the nursing home meant hours of paperwork. That's the reason she was leaving more than an hour after her shift ended. And waiting for the bus in Center City Philadelphia, alone, at 12:30am was never a good idea. She wasn't even sure the bus was still running, she simply "hoped" it was.

Robbie glanced at her watch, grimacing as she caught her reflection in the large pane glass window of a closed clothing store. She wasn't vain, but she was far too cute to be out here alone on this relatively deserted street. She smiled at the thought, wishing she actually felt that way about herself. The truth is she certainly generated her fair share of attention. She was the color of rich honey, a warm, silky brown that caught one's eye. Add to that her dark brown eyes, large and bright, sculpted cheekbones, full lips, and a dark mane of hair which she currently wore in a ponytail, and she really wasn't hard on the eyes. Besides, she rationalized, any woman would be stupid not to worry about being out here alone this late at night, right? No matter how she looked. 

And even though she wore emerald green scrubs tonight, the outfit didn't hide her figure. The full, high breasts, small waist and well rounded hips was quite a package, albeit a small package since she stood only 5 feet 3 inches. She wasn't "full-figured," sliding her frame comfortably into a size 10 (or a 12 if she was honest), but she certainly had all the right curves in all the right places.

She glanced at her watch again. Only one minute had passed and she wished the bus would arrive already. She had a little cash in her wallet and she would be more than willing to grab a cab if she spotted one, but there was no luck with that either. She sighed and forced herself not to glance at her watch again.

At the same moment she breathed a sigh of relief, noticing the bus turn the corner on its way to her, she also spotted a figure walking in her direction. She quickly assessed it was a male. He wore a dark hooded sweatshirt and tattered jeans. She wasn't sure of his race, but he moved like a young person, someone in his late teens. The skateboard he carried helped with the assessment of his age. Robbie could feel her stomach tighten as he moved closer, the bus was still two blocks away. She was much too preoccupied with the figure approaching to realize the bus was dark and not stopping for passengers. So when it breezed past her just before the male reached her side, she could feel her heart sink. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, regrouping. She was panicking for no reason. This guy probably just left work and was simply waiting for the bus to get home, right? She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and stepped into the street to look for the bus again. When she returned to the sidewalk, her companion was standing less than a foot away from her. They stood in silence for a moment.

"Hey ma, you got something you can spare to help me get on the bus?"

She was used to people asking her for help in the city considering the current economic recession. She finally glanced at him. He was white or Hispanic. Definitely not black. He didn't have an accent, but that didn't tell her much about his background. Young, slim build and not bad looking actually.

"Sorry, no." She replied, keeping it short and simple.

She went back to watching for the bus and although every vibe told her she was in trouble, she ignored the warnings, rationalizing yet again that she was just buying into whatever prevalent stereotypes there were regarding young males in the city.

Later she would admit that she wasn't completely shocked when he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her backwards. Her heart hitched and fear climbed up her spine, leaving a cold chill in its place. She had her keys in her hand, the pointy edge between her fingers as she'd been taught by friends. She balled her hand into a fist as he continued to drag her backwards into the dark space between two buildings. He pushed her, face first, against the cool brick, pressing himself against her back, and grabbed her knapsack. She breathed in deeply as he rummaged through it and she prayed silently that it was all he wanted. She heard him discard the knapsack when he found what he was looking for. 

"Ten dollars. That's fucking it? What kind of fucking doctor are you?"

"I'm a nurse." She wasn't sure why she corrected him, what did it matter after all? "It's all I have. Sorry."

She heard him swear softly and step away from her. She took that moment to turn around quickly and swipe at his face, the pointy end of her key protruding from her fist. He was quicker, however, and stepped back to avoid the worst of her strike. His movement gave her some space and she tried to run from the dark ally, hoping that since he had her wallet he would not follow. That hope was dashed almost immediately when she felt him tighten his fist around the dark locks of her hair and yank her backwards once again. She fell and felt the cement scrape her thighs and elbows. She'd pissed him off and now she was more scared than she'd been a few moments earlier. What had she been thinking?

"Bitch, are you fucking crazy?"

His fist slamming into her face felt like nothing she'd experienced ever before. There was an explosion of pain in her brain that simply and utterly stunned her. She stopped breathing for a moment, then forced herself to remember how. It was in those few moments that she realized she was still on the ground, lying on her back...and he was now kneeling between her thighs. 

"You wanna act like a bitch, you gonna get fucked like one."

He was tugging at the draw string on her scrub pants and she felt panic swell in her once more. She started clawing and crying, screaming and kicking. He was stronger, faster...determined. She felt her pants yanked down, below her hips, the cold concrete digging into her sensitive flesh. She continued to bite, kick, and scream, fighting to protect herself. 

Then suddenly, shockingly, he was gone. She opened her eyes, scrambling back as she pulled at her pants. She felt her back against the wall, her entire body trembling with horror. She quickly wiped at the tears blinding her, trying to assess the situation. She saw a larger figure, far larger than the young male, standing between her and her attacker.

"You got what you wanted, fuck off."

The young male hesitated but then grabbed his discarded skateboard and ran off, her wallet in his hand. Her brain processed the need to cancel her credit cards, although they were pretty much maxed out anyway. Her scrubs were ruined, she could see holes where her skin had been scraped. She'd have to replace the scrubs...

She figured the absurd thoughts running through her mind were the result of shock or panic, considering she still sat on the ground, her back against the wall, her body trembling violently. She wasn't sure what to do next, so she decided to watch the large figure, hoping for a clue. 

"Yea, a woman was attacked. She's on Walnut at the bus stop on 8th. Nevermind my name."

She watched the figure snap a cell phone shut. She still wasn't sure if her rescuer was male or female. The figure was tall and...large. Not muscular, but big-boned, broadly built...large. Dressed in a green tank top and fatigue bottoms, the bottom of the pants tucked into black boots. The figure knelt in front of her.

"Hey, you okay? I called the cops."

The voice registered. Female, although deep and throaty. Like someone who smoked two packs a day. The face was somewhat flat and colored a beautiful bronze. The eyes were slanted, almost like an Asian person's, and oddly enough, gray. A dark, smoky gray. The eyebrows were dark, thick and unruly, pretty much like the woman's short afro, the nose was crooked, the lips lush and thick. The woman reached out and shook her shoulder.

"Hey, say something so I can go."

"Y-You're leaving before they come?" 

"I can't wait. I got work."

"But it's one in the morning."

The woman raised a brow, "yeah, and?"

Robbie shook her head, realizing how invasive and rude she was being. "I'm sorry. Sorry. I think I'm shook up."

The woman didn't respond, standing and holding out a hand. Robbie took it, the soft flesh of her palm brushing intimately against the rough, calloused hand belonging to the woman. The woman pulled her to her feet easily.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I didn't even see anyone else around. Thank you. I think he was going to—...Thank you."

"Yeah, well, I gotta go."

The woman turned and began to walk away before Robbie could find her voice.

"Please." It was a pitiful plea, weak and pathetic to her own ears, but she couldn't help herself. She saw the woman pause before turning back to face her.

"I'm gonna be late."

"Please. I can't stay here alone. Please. I'm sorry to ask, but...please."

An uncomfortable silence passed between them and Robbie held her breath, hoping. Finally the woman walked back to her side, once again flipping open her cell phone.

"Hey, it's Shy. Tell Adam I'm gonna be later. Yea, I know, can't help it."

Shy ended the call and leaned back against the bricks beside Robbie.

"You get me fired and I'm gonna have to sue you."

Robbie smiled. It was a lame attempt at a joke, but she appreciated the effort.

"I'm really sorry. And thanks again. I don't know what I was thinking, I just—"

"They tell you to fight back, but it's just stupid. It just pisses them off. He mighta left after he had your wallet if you hadn't tried to stab him with your keys."

Robbie sighed, "yea, you're probably right. I don't—"

She fell silent, the woman's words slowly registering.

"You watched him mug me?" She asked softly, her tone failing to reflect the building anger.

"Well, you seemed to be okay until you tried to hit him. I was just gonna mind my business and keep going."

Robbie gasped, "are you kidding? You were gonna let him assault me and just go about your business?" Her voice was tight, she could hear both the fear and anger in it.

"Look, I'm no fucking cop. Not my job to serve and protect."

Robbie pushed away from the wall and turned to face the woman squarely, ignoring the fact that the woman towered over her by 6 or 7 inches.

"You asshole! How can you say that? I could never witness a crime and just keep going!"

"Hey, don't get all hysterical. I did save your ass."

"God, what an asshole you are! Where's your sense of social responsibility? Where's your humanity?!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs, her voice reverberating off the windows of the dark, silent buildings, but she didn't care. She was appalled, she was enraged...she was shaking like a leaf and ashamed that she was berating the woman who had just saved her.

She dropped to her knees suddenly and the dam burst, the tears flowing freely, her breathing shallow. She felt light headed, nauseous, her heart racing, her vision blurred. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she didn't feel well. 

The woman reached down to bend her over with little effort.

"Breathe through your nose, slow. No, slow. That's it...good. Again...that's it. One more time...good...okay? You okay?"
"I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. Thank you, thank you so much—"

"Yeah, you said that already."

She heard the sirens from a police car as it approached and the woman stood.

"I gotta go."

"Wait—"

But she was already walking away. Robbie bent over again, taking a few more deep breaths as the police car pulled to a stop in front of her.

***

"Hey Shy, finally made it?"

She nodded in the direction of her manager. She had no problems with the guy. He left her alone and that's what she craved. She maneuvered the boxes she was assigned to unpack closer to the shelf and set about restocking. She didn't mind working at the local upscale grocery store as a stocker. It allowed her to work at night and work alone. It was also one of the only jobs available to her after she was released from prison. And it paid enough for her to manage her rent and her mother's nursing home bills. Well, that was a bill that she didn't have to worry about anymore after tonight.

She wondered if she should have called out tonight. Was she supposed to feel grief? Depression? Fear that she was officially alone at the age of 37? She didn't feel any of those things. She didn't feel much of anything. Her mother had been a nasty, cold-hearted woman. A woman who demanded that Shy kiss her feet simply because she'd given birth to her. Perhaps Shy would have been more grateful if the demand had not always been followed by regrets about a missed abortion opportunity. Instead, her relationship with her mother had led her to runaway enough times that she'd been sent to a juvenile detention facility for it. It was in juvie that she'd met up with Terese. Once she was released at 18, she and Terese set about creating havoc in Philadelphia with their gang banging until she wound up in prison for 5 to 10. Armed robbery. After that stint, she realized she didn't want to spend her life in and out of prison. She decided to get her shit together.

And although she didn't care for the woman that gave birth to her, the woman who hadn't sent her a letter or a dime while she was inside, she'd felt it was her duty to pay for the woman's care during her old age since her mother had no one else. Her mother was an only child and her parents had died years ago. And Shy's father? Well, he'd disappeared before Shy was even born. Her mother had no friends and no money. Who else was going to do it?

But instead of feeling the sadness she was sure typically accompanied the death of a parent, she felt relieved that she no longer had to pay for the nursing home. It wasn't one of the best, but it had still been expensive. And when they'd called to ask her about "arrangements" for her mother, she'd asked them about the cheapest way to dispose of the body. She opted for cremation and told them she didn't want the ashes. 

It was pretty much the way she dealt with the end of every relationship. Her last lover? She'd given her $500 and told her to fuck off. That had been two years ago. Rosalyn hadn't been a bad person, just a greedy, manipulative, lying, cheating self-centered bitch...like her mother. In fact, most of her lovers reminded her of her mother. She'd decided some time ago it was better to be alone than to deal with anyone else like that. She wasn't sure why she hadn't stuck with that decision for Rosalyn. Better to be alone than to find your woman fucking some other asshole in your bed.

She discarded the box she'd just emptied and pulled the next one closer. She didn't mind this tedious work. When she went home in the morning, she left the job behind. She could sleep, eat a couple of hot dogs or a bowl of cereal and basically do whatever she wanted. Lately, that hadn't been anything more than sleep and drink bottle after bottle of cheap scotch. But even that beat spending time with anyone else.

The image of the attractive, feisty damsel-in-distress appeared in her mind for a moment, but she cast it aside. She had no space or time in her life for anyone right now. She just wanted to wallow in...whatever the fuck she wallowed in day after day. 

***

Robbie was snuggled beneath a thick comforter in her bed a few hours later, the phone's receiver cradled in the crook of her neck. She'd been on the phone with her friend Janet since she arrived home after wasting time with the police. She couldn't identify the person who had assaulted her, she hadn't mentioned the woman that helped her, and since the man had only stolen ten dollars, it was hardly a pressing case for the cops. 

"Robbie? You still there?"

"Yea, sorry, just a little flighty still."

"Uh, I think you're entitled. Are you going to call the social worker they gave you a card for?"

Robbie sighed, "I don't know J, maybe. Nothing happened."

"Bullshit Robbie. Something pretty horrible happened and you need to talk about it."

Robbie agreed silently, but she didn't feel like putting it into words right now. Instead, she glanced at the clock and winced.

"It's 8am J, I have to get some sleep or I'll be fried for work this evening."

"You're still going in? Are you kidding me? You need to take a couple of days off."

"Nah, I need to keep busy or I'll go nuts. Oh, and I better cancel my bank card and my Visa."

"Yea, and try to get some sleep. Call me later."

"Okay, and thanks for keeping me company."

"No prob. Bye."

She disconnected the call and stared up at the ceiling. She probably should talk to someone, she was pretty badly shaken up. She'd opted not to call her sister or her mother, they would just worry and considering they lived in Chicago, what was the point? She sighed and stood, rummaging through a desk drawer filled with old bills. She located her bank statement and credit card bill, placing the calls to cancel the cards and order new ones. Luckily, there were no odd charges made to her bank card. Guess there was one advantage to being attacked in the middle of the night, she thought.

She lay down again, but was afraid to close her eyes. She saw her attacker when she did, felt his hands on her, yanking her pants down, pushing her legs apart...she shook her head and decided she would skip sleep for now. She had plenty of errands to run and maybe that would exhaust her enough to sleep for a few hours before her shift started. 

She stood under the hot spray of the shower for a long time. It was her third shower, but it didn't wash the feeling of his hands away. She scrubbed and scrubbed, then toweled off and dressed in sweats. Yeah, she needed to get out and keep busy. That was much better than lying around and dwelling on what had happened. 

*

She had no choice but to re-tell the story over and over again once she arrived at work, mostly because of the bruise on her cheek. After the fourth time, it was almost as if it had happened to someone else and she was just passing on some gossip. Once things died down a bit and she started handing out her meds, she felt better. It was nice to have so many people concerned about her, but it was also exhausting having to relive the experience each and every time. She sighed, collecting the meds for the next room and entering with a brisk knock before she realized it was Miss Paula's room. The bitter old woman who had died the night before. She was about to leave when she noticed someone gathering Paula's personal effects and shoving them into a large garbage bag. The person's back was to her.

"Excuse me, can I help you?"

When the person turned, Robbie's breath caught in her chest. It was her. From the night before. The person who had rescued her. She dropped the small plastic cup in her hand, the pills spilling to the floor. The two of them stared at each other in silence for a moment before Robbie collected herself.

"What are you doing here?"

The woman raised a brow, "what are you doing here?"

Robbie thought it was pretty obvious, given the navy blue scrubs she wore. "I work here. Your turn."

"My mother died yesterday, I'm tossing her shit."

Robbie knelt to pick up the cup and pills, shoving them into one of her pockets. The woman had turned her back to her again and continued shoving stuff into the garbage bag. Robbie wracked her brain for the woman's name, but it escaped her.




Twenty Minutes



"I didn't know Ms. Paula was your mother."

The woman didn't respond. Robbie wiped her palms on her pants, not sure why her hands were suddenly sweaty and shaking. Probably because seeing this woman brought up every feeling she had just spent time trying to bury. She swallowed.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your name." 

The woman paused for a second, but didn't turn around. She resumed her task before answering.

"Shiloh Long. Shy."

"I'm Robbie Peterson." She swallowed again, watching the woman work for just a moment longer. "I have to get back to work. I wanted to thank you for last—"

"Don't worry about it."

Robbie nodded and turned to leave the room. She hesitated at the door.

"Uh, maybe I could buy you dinner or something? As a thank you?"

The invitation sounded strange to her own ears. Strained...half-hearted. It was sincere, she just wasn't sure where it came from. And she already knew the woman's answer.

"No thanks."

"Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Maybe I'll see you around."

She left the room, closing the door behind her. She doubted she would ever see Shiloh Long again...Shy. She liked the name. It certainly suited the woman. Not feminine, frilly or girly. Robbie shook her head, wondering why she cared if the name suited the woman or not. 

*

"Robbie?"

Robbie paused at the nurses' station over an hour later, "yeah?"

"Do you know if Paula's daughter left yet?"

"No, why?"

Sabrina, the only Administrator still on duty, examined the computer screen before her.

"She has an outstanding balance I wanted to talk to her about before she left."

Robbie walked around the desk to look at the computer screen. There was a $900 balance highlighted. She thought for a moment and, although it was a bit steep, made a decision.

"You know what? I'm going to take care of that."

Sabrina looked at her, raising a brow. "Why would you do that?"

Robbie shrugged, "just make a note that I'll take care of it. I'll need to do it in installments, but I'll pay off the balance."

Sabrina hesitated for another moment and then shrugged, "okay, whatever."

Robbie watched her fingers fly across the keyboard, making a notation that she would pay off the balance in three installments. Robbie smiled to herself. Shy may not have wanted a 'thank you,' but she intended to give her one anyway. She left the nurses' station quite content with herself.

***

At 11pm, she wasn't willing to risk waiting for the bus once again, calling for a cab instead. She was absolutely exhausted, having been unable to fall asleep the day before. She was regretting it now as she stood in front of the nursing home waiting. 

"Hey, you."
She turned her head, recognizing the large frame belonging to Shiloh Long. She was happy to see her for a moment, swallowing the fear she knew would be a part of her life for a while. But when she realized it was not joy on Shiloh's face greeting her, she prepared herself for battle.

"Where do you get off paying my bill?" Shy demanded.

Robbie opened her mouth to respond, but Shy pressed on.

"I don't accept hand outs, you hear me? I'm no fucking charity case."

"I didn't think you were. I wanted to thank you and you wouldn't let me buy you dinner." Robbie defended herself.

"Yeah, whatever. I told them I would pay my own fucking bill. I don't need your damn help."

"Fine, I was only trying to say thank you."

Shy took in Robbie's slight frame, watching her carefully, waiting for the woman to tell her what she really wanted. No one offered to pay a $900 bill just to be nice. When Robbie didn't say another word, instead walking past her when the cab pulled up, she regretted her approach for just a second. Then she shook her head. She didn't want the woman's help. And she wasn't some needy, desperate person that couldn't pay her own bills. She'd made her own way for years, she wouldn't start leaning on anyone now. She watched the cab pull away from the curb before turning and heading south.

***

It was amazing to her what time could do for a person. In just two weeks, she felt like nothing had happened. She had not been mugged and almost raped, she had not been rescued and then accosted by an oversized thug, and she certainly had not had $900 thrown back in her face. Robbie smiled, denial was a very good thing indeed.

She was, however, still on line at the bank, her patience wearing thin. She wasn't sure why she still banked with the Philadelphia Credit Union. Their interest rates were poor in comparison to other, larger banks, the tellers were unfriendly and the lines were always long. Still, she was not one for change, so she found herself tapping her foot impatiently, waiting to get to one of the tellers. After another 20 minutes, she was relieved to feel the swoosh of the bank door closing behind her. She had only about an hour before she had to report to work. That was enough time to grab something to eat, shower and change. 

Her day at work sped by and before she knew it, she was glancing at her watch and grimacing. It was after 11pm and she still had to file the incident report. Mrs. Miller had fallen and broken her wrist in four places. They planned to keep her at the hospital overnight, but that didn't prevent her from having to fill out the requisite forms. She tried to hurry, forcing her stomach to settle down as the minute hand continued to make progress on her watch. By the time she was done, it was after midnight.

She didn't get paid for another two days and she simply didn't have the money for a cab. She had called for the bus schedule and knew one would be at the bus stop around 12:20am. So, she gathered her belongings, swiped out with her ID card and made her way to the bus stop. She was armed with a can of mace now, as well as her keys. And she'd been seriously thinking about purchasing a gun. You could carry one with a permit in Philadelphia. If she planned to continue working the evening shift, she might just have to let go of her humanistic, anti-gun philosophy and carry one, even if she opted not to use real bullets. They had rubber ones that stunned an attacker and would allow her time to get away. 

The sense of déjà vu was quite unsettling as she glanced at her watch and waited for the bus. It was only 12:15. Sometimes the buses arrived early and she was hoping tonight hadn't been one of those times. Her heart was racing so fast it was drowning out her ability to hear anything else for the most part. Otherwise, she would have heard the sounds coming from that dreaded alley she'd been dragged into weeks ago. Once she realized there were people in there, she listened to the muffled sounds, the groaning, the nasty laughter. Someone was being attacked!

She froze, wondering what she would do now that it was her turn to rescue someone. First, she found her newly purchased cell phone and dialed 911 as she made her way toward the darkened space between two buildings. But before anyone could answer, she heard a young male voice say "oh shit, you see that? Fuck that, let's go!" and then four young males, all of them dressed in tee shirts and very, very baggy jeans, two of them sporting fresh bruises and a little blood, hightailed it past her. She didn't recognize them, although any one of them could have been her attacker. 

When she was certain they were gone, she hurried into the alley. Sure enough, there was a person lying on the ground, face down, moaning. It took a moment for her brain to catch up with her eyes, but as soon as it did, she recognized the tank top, fatigues and combat boots. Her heart began to pound even faster. Shy!

She heard the woman on her phone repeat a question, something about the 'nature of her emergency,' before she thought to respond. She gave them the location, quickly described what she'd seen, and then told the woman she would stay with the victim until the police arrived. She ended the call and knelt beside Shy's form, wincing at the sight of blood and the quickly swelling areas on her face. Her knuckles were bloodied, the back of her tank top filthy with what looked like footprints, but her chest was rising and falling pretty evenly. Robbie wasn't sure what to do, so she sat beside her in the alley and waited. Waited for the police and waited for Shy to open her eyes. She'd deal with which ever came first.

As she sat there, it suddenly dawned on her that the boys had run off afraid. Considering Shy had not been winning the fight, she wondered what had scared them off. She glanced around the alley, squinting in the dark, when she saw it. A dark, metal object just a few feet from Shy's form. She stood to pick it up, not sure what type of gun it was or if it was loaded. What she did know was that if Shy didn't have a permit, she was probably looking at a serious criminal charge. So she did what any idiot would do, she stuck the gun in her knapsack and zipped it closed.

She resumed her seat beside Shy, her fingers trembling at just the thought of the police searching her bag. It was probably unlikely since she'd call the attack in, but how did she know? If they asked, she would give them the bag and just take the consequences. Perhaps she would be able to thank Shy that way? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. How could she have lived in this city for seven years, made it all the way to her 32nd birthday with no major incidents, and now, in the space of two weeks, she and the police were becoming best buddies? 

She blew out the breath she'd sucked in and looked down at her charge again. She hadn't noticed the tattoos on Shy's arm before. There was one on her bicep, easily visible for the most part. It was two poorly drawn Old English letters overlapping, rather crooked actually, she thought. It looked like a "G" and a "D." Then there was a smaller tattoo, also in black ink, on the inside of her arm just above the wrist. She bent down to take a closer look, recognizing the shape of a star with letters and figures in the different triangles and what looked like a pitch fork drawn through it. The detail was great but the color seemed a bit faded. 

Out of the blue, something moved near her with lightening speed. It took her a moment to realize Shy's arm had shot out and her fist now held a large patch of her hair. Shy was suddenly on her feet, hauling Robbie up and slamming her, face first, against the brick, her massive weight brutally pressing Robbie's much smaller frame into the wall, cutting off her air. It all happened so fast Robbie barely had time to blink, much less speak.

The sound of sirens made Shy pause for just a second and gave Robbie enough time to find her voice.

"Shy, it's me," she croaked, "Roberta Peterson. Robbie?"

The large woman behind her didn't respond, but she did feel her ease up a bit, allowing some space between her and the brick wall and providing her with a chance to breathe. Another moment of silence passed between them before she heard Shy growl an eloquent question.

"What the fuck?"

"I called the police, some guys jumped you."

Another moment of nothing and then Shy released her. She could see Shy size up the situation quickly and then reach behind her to feel the back of her jeans. When she didn't find what she was looking for, she started to search the alley. Robbie retrieved the knapsack that had fallen from her shoulder during the tussle and removed the gun. Shy snatched it from her and left the ally, walking quickly, yet unsteadily. The police had not arrived yet and Robbie hesitated, not sure what she should do. This time she decided not to wait, following Shy instead.

She followed her for three blocks, watching as Shy moved on wobbly legs and wiped impatiently at the blood trickling down her forehead. Then, without any warning, Shy fell to the ground like a sack of bricks. Robbie rushed to her side, wondering what she should do next. It was clear this woman wanted nothing to do with the police. Well, she could understand that, most blacks didn't trust them. But what was she supposed to do? The cut on her head didn't look serious enough to need stitches, but it needed to be cleaned and bandaged. Her face would need some ice to keep the swelling down. And there was a lump on the side of her head which might be indicative of a concussion. She needed someone to sit with her for at least 12 hours. She glanced at her watch. It was 12:30 and it would be almost impossible to call for a cab, not that she had the money for one anyway. She sighed. 

She wasn't sure why, but she decided to rummage through Shy's pockets in the hopes of finding either enough cash to call a cab or something that would give her another idea. In the pocket of her fatigues, she found a single key, some cash, and low and behold, a driver's license. It was a license for a motorcycle, but it held information that was far more important, Shy's address, which was less than two blocks away. 

She wasn't sure she could wake Shy, but she had little choice. There was no way she could get the woman to her apartment otherwise. After a few light slaps on the slightly less bruised side of her face and some shoulder shoves, Shy moaned and opened her eyes. It was pretty clear to Robbie she was out of it, so she simply compelled Shy to get to her feet and pushed/shoved/dragged her to the front door of a rather run down 3-story apartment building. She hoped the single key worked on the front door, but it wasn't necessary, the lock on the door was broken. She maneuvered her charge inside and then began searching for Apartment H. The letters ended at E on the first floor, so she used all her remaining energy to get Shy into a tiny little elevator and up to the second floor. Apartment H was a few feet down on the right. She used the key to open the door and then found a way to settle Shy onto a well-worn sofa.

She was sweating and breathing hard from the effort. She leaned against the front door after locking it and simply took a moment to catch her breath. Meanwhile, she looked around, reaching behind her to turn on the overhead light. There wasn't much to see. It was a tiny, tiny studio, half the size of the living room in her spacious 1-bedroom. There were a few plastic "chests" shoved in a corner and stuffed with clothes. There were also clothes folded on top of them and clothes in an overflowing hamper right beside them. All the clothes looked pretty much the same, fatigue pants, jeans, tee shirts. A few feet to the left there was a kitchen area. A few cabinets, a sink, a stove, a fridge, a small rectangular table with a microwave on it, a trash can beside that. A few feet to the right of the plastic chests was the living room area, a battered wall-unit with a 13 inch television, an outdated compact stereo with a CD player, some CDs. In front of the wall unit, in the middle of the room for the most part, was the sofa Shy occupied. Beside it was a rather comfy looking, but very old and worn, arm chair. There was a closed door right beside the front door, and that was it. She assumed the closed door led to the bathroom.

When she opened that door, she realized she was right. She rummaged through the medicine cabinet, but unearthed only a bottle of rubbing alcohol. She grabbed it and a clean washcloth from atop the hamper in the tiny bathroom and made her way back to Shy's side. She dabbed at the cut just beneath Shy's hairline, pushing aside the short, silken curls of her 'fro to examine the wound. As she suspected, not too deep. She cleaned it to the best of her ability, wishing she had something to cover it with. Then she found her way to the kitchen area and removed an ice tray from the freezer. Thank goodness there were a few cubes left. The rinsed off the washcloth, dumped the ice into it, and folded it. After refilling the ice tray, she made her way back to the sofa and sat beside the large, unconscious woman, holding the homemade ice pack against her rapidly swelling cheek. 

She sat there, in the eerily quiet little space, for about an hour as the ice melted. When there was nothing left but a dripping washcloth, she returned to the bathroom to wring it out and hang it over the sink. She splashed some water on her face, trying to wake herself up just a bit. Glancing around the bathroom told her nothing more about her patient, other than the fact that she was neat and clean, if nothing else. She was about to shut off the light and leave the tiny room when a shadow behind the shower curtain caught her eye. She moved the shower curtain aside and found a brown paper bag in the tub. There was nothing unique about the bag, just a brown bag like you would find in any grocery store. The contents of the bag, however, were quite fascinating. Money. Lots of it. The bag was filled to the rim. She stared at the bag for a moment longer, amazed to see so much money at one time, and then pulled the shower curtain closed. She wanted nothing to do with a shopping bag filled with money. At least she now knew why Shy seem to avoid the police. 

She left the bathroom quickly, glad Shy was still out of it. She knew she couldn't leave, so she did what she could to make her patient comfortable, and then grabbed her cell phone and stood before one of the two windows that looked out onto the street. She had three messages, all from Janet. She had called Janet to tell her she was running late, but hadn't had a chance to call her again. She dialed the number now and quickly filled her in. Janet agreed that she had the worst luck, wrote down Shy's name and address 'just in case,' and then wished her a good night. Robbie could feel herself getting sleepy. The adrenaline rush, along with the difficult task of getting Shy home, had exhausted her. She collapsed into the arm chair beside the sofa, set the alarm on her phone for an hour, and then dropped into sleep.

She woke every hour to check on Shy, making sure she was sleeping and not unconscious. But when she opened her eyes this time, she realized it was not the alarm that had roused her. Shy was awake, sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring at her. It was the intensity of that gaze that had awakened her.

"You're awake, that's good—" Robbie started, but her next words were interrupted.

"What the fuck you doing here?"

She blinked, a little surprised. She wasn't sure why she was expecting anything else.

"Uh, you were bleeding and you fell...I didn't feel right just leaving you lying in the middle of the street." She responded defensively.

"You touch anything?"

Robbie scrubbed her face with her hands and stood slowly.

"I didn't steal that money, if that's what you're worried about. I just stayed here to make sure you didn't slip into a coma. Don't worry, I'll see my way out."

If she expected some magnanimous gesture stopping her from leaving the tiny apartment, she was sorely disappointed. She did hear the locks click into place behind her as she waited for the elevator. She shook her head. What was that old saying? 'No good deed went unpunished.'

***

Shy paced the limited floor space in her tiny apartment for the hundredth time and then sighed. It was the second time she had treated the woman as if she was an enemy. The second time the woman had gone out of her way to be helpful. She wished she could trust her gut, the sense that this woman was okay, but she couldn't. No one who did time ended up trusting every person they came in contact with. And given her mother, her lovers...she had a right to be suspicious. But she couldn't swallow down the fact that this woman had not asked for anything. And although she had plenty of opportunity, she hadn't touched the money.

She grabbed her cell phone when it rang, expecting her boss to fire her for not showing yesterday, surprised when he didn't. Then, after she told him about the assault, he told her to take the night off and get some rest. It paid to never miss a day's work in over a year. She sighed, seems she was being given quite a few second chances today. Guess she had to pay for at least one of them. 




Twenty Minutes



She showered and pulled on a pair of loose fitting jeans. It was only 2:30. Perhaps she could catch her savior on her way to work.

Robbie glanced at her watch, hurrying the last block from the bus stop to the nursing home. If she didn't hurry, she would wind up with the locker that had no lock. Then she'd have to worry about her personal belongings all night, unless Jenn let her share with her again. She winced at the thunderous sound a motorcycle made as it pulled into an empty space near the entrance to her job. Even if it was pretty loud and obnoxious, it was an attractive piece of machinery, all shiny silver chrome and black leather. Sexy was the word that popped into her mind, as was the oversized person sitting astride the monstrous machine. She jogged up the short flight of stairs and was just about to enter the nursing home when she heard two words she'd been hoping to avoid hearing ever again.

"Hey, you."

She turned in the direction of the voice, realizing it was coming from the person sitting on the motorcycle, and sighed. Shy. Glancing at the bike again, she wondered briefly what other toys a bag filled with money bought.

Shy shut off the engine and dismounted, moving to stand at the base of the short flight of stairs. She looked up into the attractive face of the woman who had babysat her all night.

"Was hoping I could buy you dinner to thank you." Shy offered with a teasing glint in those smoky gray eyes. They both remembered Robbie's offer just a couple weeks ago. 

Robbie chuckled, amused, wracking her brain for Shy's response. "Uh, I believe the proper response to that is 'no thanks.'" 

Shy climbed two steps which put her at eye level with Robbie. She moved a little closer, a lopsided smile on her face.

"I'm sorry I was a dick earlier. Habit. Let me buy you dinner."

Robbie felt her pulse trip and silently chastised herself. A little charm and a crooked smile and she was ready to let bygones be bygones? Sheesh.

"It's okay, really, we're even now. Look, I'm going to be late."

But Shy held her gaze, refusing to let her off that easy.

"Don't make me beg. At least have take-out with me. My place, 11:30? I promise to be a good girl."

Robbie bit down on her tongue to stop the 'too bad' response that sprang to her lips. Instead, she just nodded. Then she turned like a scared rabbit and hurried into the facility, relieved when the door closed securely between them. She took a deep breath as she rushed to the locker room area.

She left work a little late, but still managed to make it to the dilapidated building by 11:30pm. She was tempted to turn around and go home considering she hadn't yet had a pleasant experience with this woman, but she said she would have take-out with her, so she would. She tapped lightly on the apartment door, a part of her hoping no one would answer, but the door opened just seconds later and she found herself face-to-face with Shiloh Long, rescuer, aggressor, victim, and potential drug dealer? What else could a bag of money in the bathtub mean?

"Uh, I hope I-I'm not early." She stammered.

She hoped to break the ice, and warrant that lopsided smile again, which is exactly what she did. Shy stepped back and allowed her to enter. The apartment looked pretty much the way it had before, except she had set up a card table and two folding chairs in the only available space. Atop the table was any number of cartons from a local Chinese restaurant.

"I didn't know what you wanted, so I just ordered pretty much everything off the menu. Chicken, beef, pork, all vegetable if you're into that."

Robbie chuckled, "uh, do you see my hips? Clearly I'm not into that."

She didn't realize that was an invitation for Shy to slowly, casually, examine her from head to toe, taking in her nicely developed full breasts, small waist and curvy hips. She'd been told dozens of times, from males and females she'd dated, that she had all the right curves in all the right places, but she doubted anyone brought that message home the way Shy did as she devoured her slight frame with those cool, gray eyes.

And when she was done with the inspection, she didn't say a word. There didn't seem to be anything to say. It was the first admission from either of them that something existed between them. 

She swallowed as she watched Shy start uncovering rounded aluminum tins and cardboard containers. She searched for something neutral to say, something to defuse the situation.

"How's your head?" She asked casually, taking a seat at what appeared to be a brand new card table. 

Shy sat across from her, spooning a variety of dishes onto her disposable plate.

"Still buzzing. That will teach me to mind my business."

Robbie followed suit, realizing how hungry she was. She raised a brow at Shy's comment, "huh? Did I miss something?"

"The leader of that little faggot pack was your friend from the other night. Said he wanted to teach me a lesson," Shy snorted.

Robbie choked on whatever she had placed between her lips, looking around for something to drink as she pounded on her own chest. Shy just watched her, a smirk toying with her lips as she snagged something off her plate with a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks provided by the restaurant.

Robbie grabbed one of the cans of sodas from the table top and guzzled half the drink. Once she stopped choking and wiped the tears from her eyes, she looked over at Shy for any indication that she was joking. She wasn't.

"Shy, I am so sorry. I really am. I had no idea. I'm so—"

"Don't worry about it."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, although Robbie was certain the discomfort was mostly on her part since Shy did nothing less than fill her stomach. She, on the other hand, had pretty much lost her appetite. She'd put this woman's life at risk and she felt horrible. It was odd, however. All she could think about was what had scared them off.

"Why did they stop?" She asked.

Shy raised a brow, swallowing half the contents of a can of soda. She turned just slightly and indicated the two letters tattooed on her upper arm.

Robbie glanced at them and then raised her eyes to Shy's again, a blank look on her face. Shy shook her head and laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent a tingle through Robbie.

"You have no idea what these letters mean, do you? No clue what's going on outside your own little world, huh?"

Robbie couldn't tell if she said it as an insult or was simply stating a fact, so she opted not to be insulted.

"I don't know what those letters mean."

Shy nodded in agreement, but she didn't fill her in. Instead, she just kept popping various foods into her mouth. Robbie waited another beat before asking the obvious question.

"Well, what do they mean?"

Shy focused those intense gray eyes on her for a moment, but then changed the topic abruptly.

"Why do you work in a nursing home? You like old people?"

Robbie chewed on a piece of broccoli thoughtfully, wondering if she would simply allow the change of topic or challenge it. She decided not to rock the boat. 

"Actually, I can't stand working in a nursing home. It's depressing. When most people say old people are like kids, they have no idea what they're talking about. They are like kids but with rights, which makes them a real pain in the ass."

Shy didn't respond, so she continued.

"There's this old man, he's almost a hundred years old and he can barely walk. But will he stay in his wheelchair? No. So when I asked him to just sit in his chair during my shift so I don't have to fill out tons of paperwork when he falls and breaks a hip, you know what he said? 'I've tried it your way and it's no fun. Might be fun to break a hip.'" She shook her head, remembering the frustrating conversation. "I wanted to choke him."

When Shy didn't say anything again, she fell silent. They ate in the somewhat strained silence for a few minutes until Shy asked another question.

"What did you think of my mother?"

Instead of answering, Robbie shoved more food into her mouth, chasing it with soda. She chewed thoughtfully, trying to figure out a polite response.

"It's okay, I know she was a cold bitch. I guess I'm just wondering if she was only like that with me."

Robbie swallowed and proceeded with caution, "honestly?"

Shy nodded.

"Everyone hated her. She never said a kind word to anyone and treated us all like we should be honored to be in her presence."

Shy snorted, nodding in agreement, "I know that feeling. That bitch never answered the phone when I called her from juvie or prison. Never sent me a letter or nothin'."

Robbie wasn't sure how to process that piece of information. This woman had been in a juvenile detention center and prison? Sheesh. What was she doing sitting across from her eating Chinese food? She paused for a moment and then asked the first question that came to mind.

"What were you in juvie for?"

Shy looked over at her and Robbie couldn't tell if she thought she was invading her privacy or not. It took her a full minute to respond.

"I was a multiple offender, a runaway and a truant. And my mother threw in incorrigibility to guarantee me a place in lock up."

Robbie watched as the large woman shifted uncomfortably and then popped a few more pieces of pork into her mouth.

"How old were you?"

"12."

That one rendered Robbie silent. How could a mother lock up her own child at 12 years of age? For petty offenses no less? And what kind of judge had agreed to that?

"How long were you in there?" Robbie asked softly.

"'Til I aged out."

They sat in silence after that admission and Robbie had really lost her appetite this time. No wonder this woman was so touchy, so reluctant to trust anyone. There was no reason to, not if her own mother hadn't been there for her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

"I'm sorry Shy." She offered sincerely. 

Shy looked at her from across the table, those gray eyes burning into her. If it was supposed to be a staring contest, she had no problem losing to Shy. Robbie lowered her gaze, fidgeting with her plate and plastic fork.

"Why don't I clean up?" Robbie offered, standing.

"Sit." The command was short and abrupt. Robbie followed it with little hesitation. "Just leave it."

She nodded, but avoided Shy's eyes. Those eyes did something to her...she wasn't sure what it was yet, but she thought it best to just ignore it and leave the apartment as soon as possible.

"You feel sorry for me?" Shy demanded roughly.

That forced Robbie to look at her directly, shaking her head. "No. Your mother wasn't there for you, that was fucked up. But I don't feel sorry for you. I'm just sad you had that mother."

More silence and Robbie hoped she hadn't offended her. Shy just continued with her life story as if they'd never stopped talking about it.

"Didn't have any where to go once they let me out, so hung out with a friend of mine. Started banging, fucking around, 'til I got busted when I was 23. Did six years. Then I left that shit behind."

Robbie didn't comment, watching the woman's edgy movements as she dumped her tale on the table. Quite honestly, given the women's history, she was surprised Shy was talking to her about it at all.

She wasn't the only one surprised. Shy wasn't sure why she was unloading all this stuff on a woman who was basically a stranger. She'd learned that when you told people about your shit, they saw you as weak. They used it against you. So, she had no idea why she was giving this woman the chance to do that. She could feel herself growing angrier by the moment.

"So what's your story? Grew up with a perfect family? Perfect boyfriend dumped you when you were 16 and that was the worst thing that ever happened to you?"

The words were harsh...cruel. Shy knew she was striking out but she didn't really care. She stood and made her way over to a window, staring out of it, anger exuding from her large frame.

Robbie remained silent for a few minutes and then made a decision.

"I had a pretty easy life compared to yours. It was pretty much perfect until my Dad was killed by a drunk driver when I was 9. Then we lost everything. My mother didn't make enough money to pay the mortgage. We wound up in a shelter and then in the projects. But my mother kept me and my sister out of trouble, kept a close eye on us. I was a good student, so I got a scholarship to college. Became an RN. My sister is in accounting. My mom died a few years ago in a nursing home. Maybe that's why I started working at one."

Another moment of silence and then she heard Shy grunt.

"Is that all? I wish I had your fucking sob story."

Robbie felt the blow of the words and was surprised how much it hurt. She was tempted to lash out, but having heard this woman's life history she didn't want to cause her any more pain. However, her life had been difficult, had been painful, and she certainly didn't feel like justifying it to this woman or anyone else. She swallowed and then stood from the table.

"It's late, I should go. Thanks for dinner, it was really nice of you."

She kept her eyes averted, quickly locating her backpack and heading for the door. She had her hand on the knob, the door opened just a few inches, when suddenly it slammed shut. She glanced up and saw Shy's large hand, palm flat, against the door. She hesitated, not sure if she should be angry, hopeful or scared. It occurred to her in that moment that she might not have made the best judgment call having dinner in the apartment of someone who was pretty much a stranger. She'd escaped rape just weeks ago, would she be forced to submit now? This woman had been in prison, she was hardened, filled with anger and a willingness to inflict pain on others. Why hadn't she thought of the possible danger before now?

Neither of them moved for what felt like an eternity. Then Robbie felt the woman behind her release a breath, the air teasing strands of her hair, caressing her ear. She felt the woman's body relax just a bit, and then press against her, pressing her into the closed door. But it wasn't a terrifying pressure like she'd experienced the night before when Shy had grabbed her hair and slammed her against the brick wall. This was a slight pressure, not one designed to intimidate or threaten. She could feel Shy's small breasts against her upper back, the rise and fall of Shy's broad chest, the warmth of her body. She listened as Shy took another deep breath and released it slowly. 

"I'm sorry."

The two words sounded foreign on her tongue, as if she rarely used them. Robbie could feel herself relax a little. She turned around and found herself within the confines of Shy's arms. One of Shy's hands still remained pressed against the door, the other was on the wall. The effect was to create a sense of intimacy, one that didn't escape either of them as Robbie lifted her head and met those hauntingly beautiful gray eyes. Shy didn't turn away from her, didn't hide, didn't try to escape. Instead, they simply stared into each other's eyes. 

Robbie dropped her backpack and lifted a hand to slowly trace a path up Shy's arm. She stopped at the two Old English letters and slowly outlined them with a fingertip, her eyes making their way back to Shy's.

"What do they mean?" She whispered huskily, hoping she was having the same effect on Shy that the woman had on her. 

"Gangster Disciples."

A short response, throaty...filled with the warmth of the feelings passing between them. Robbie continued to draw a pattern along the tattoo.

"Your mother was a bitch Shy. And nothing that happened to you when you were a kid was your fault. You're a good person. I know you are."

She wasn't sure what impact she expected the words to have, she just knew she had to share her thoughts. Shy was the product of everything gone wrong since birth. And still, she had a decent heart, considering she had not only saved someone else when there was nothing in it for her, but she'd also taken a beating for it. Clearly the Gods had smiled on Shy in some ways...in ways that made her worthwhile and important to the human race. Robbie wanted her to know that.

They fell into silence again, still staring into each other's eyes. Then, Robbie watched as Shy took a deep breath and slowly lowered her head to gently touch her lips to Robbie's. The contact was electric and both women pulled apart just a little to see if the other had felt it. Robbie smiled and then leaned forward, seeking Shy's mouth again. They tasted one another, unhurriedly, tenderly...savoring the passion slowly building between them, delighting in the feel and taste of the other person. Robbie's hands slowly caressed a path from Shy's wrists to her oversized biceps, enjoying the sheer strength of the woman pressed against her, kissing her so thoroughly. She was pleased when she detected a slight change in Shy's breathing, a tension in her arms, a shift in her hips. The kiss became a little more insistent, a little more...hungry. And Robbie could feel her body respond to it. Her heart tapped a slightly more urgent beat against her ribs and her nipples began to harden.

Shy pulled her against her, her arms wrapping around Robbie's small waist as she walked them backwards. She turned and Robbie found herself lying on the sofa. The sofa was a little larger than she'd thought and she shifted just a little, making herself more comfortable as she watched Shy settle over her, a knee on either side of her thighs, her fists at either side of her head. Shy lowered herself carefully, mindful of her weight, their bodies barely touching as their lips met again. Robbie's fingers sought out the silky texture of the short curls on Shy's head and buried into them, soliciting a moan from the big-boned woman that affected Robbie down to her knees.

She could feel the nature of the kiss change again as Shy deepened it. No longer simply inquisitive, simply asking, but demanding. Shy's tongue licked at her lips, seeking access, then danced with her tongue impatiently. She took pleasure in the feel of Shy's weight, pressing her into the worn sofa cushions, freeing Shy's hands to stroke her, tease her...incite her. Before she knew it, her scrub top was gone, the feel of those calloused hands against her sensitive flesh sending additional waves of heat through her quickly overloading system. 

She was gasping for air when Shy's mouth finally left hers, scorching her flesh as it made its way to her shoulders, nipping at the flesh, sending shivers down her spine. Shy pushed Robbie's bra aside impatiently, freeing her full breasts, capturing a hardened nub, lapping at it with the heat of her tongue. Robbie moaned, her fingers digging into Shy's muscled biceps as her nipple was sucked into a warm vacuum, enjoying the feel of Shy's mouth.

She lifted up to assist Shy as Shy quickly unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, capturing the other nipple between her lips, careful to spend an equal amount of time adoring it. A hand made its way to the string tied loosely as Robbie's waist, deftly undoing it, snaking past the waistband. Robbie's hips bucked as she felt a thick, calloused digit caress her outer lips and then sink slowly into her wet center. Shy gave her a moment to adjust to the feel and size of it, waiting until her body craved more. Robbie gasped as the pad of Shy's thumb first pressed against her erect bud, then began drawing lazy circles against it. She shut her eyes tight, preparing herself for a ride as Shy began to fuck her, unhurriedly, wreaking havoc with her senses as she slid that delicious finger in and out. Robbie could feel her muscles tense as the sensations built, her eyes still shut tight as she rode the waves of pleasure, shocked by her own wanton response. And when the first climax sliced through her, she felt her head fall back, her mouth open wide as she gasped for air like a fish out of water.




Twenty Minutes



A warmth settled over her, soothing colors appearing behind her closed lids, pleasure spreading throughout every limb, every digit, every nail. And when she opened her eyes, she wanted more. More of Shy, the feel of her, the sensations Shy created within. She grabbed at Shy's tank, pulling it over her head, tossing it aside, pleased she wore nothing beneath. Her lips hungrily sought a hardened dark nipple and drew it into her mouth. She enjoyed the feel of the hardened flesh against her tongue as her hands undid Shy's jeans clumsily, her feet helping with the chore of removing them. She shucked the rest of her own clothes, wriggling enticingly against Shy, her mouth never releasing the nipple she held captive. Shy inserted another finger into her, stretching her, sending bolts of pure pleasure through her. She could feel another peak building. She bit into Shy's nipple, enjoying the grunt of pain and pleasure as Shy shoved her fingers deeper, following her lead, fucking her more enthusiastically. That thumb was still toying with her, driving her crazy, pushing her closer to the edge. Her breath hitched and she suddenly felt another orgasm flood her senses. Her entire body froze, the seconds ticking away slowly as the fever consumed her. When the intensity of it died down, she shifted their positions and climbed on top.

She didn't know where to start, wanting to taste every inch, memorize the texture, the smell, the look in those smoky gray eyes. She was too impatient to start at the top, so she settled herself between Shy's massive thighs. She took a moment to enjoy the glistening heat, inhaling the potent smell, savoring it. Then her lips latched onto Shy as if starved, sucking, licking, nibbling, biting. She dug her hands into Shy's waist as the woman responded to her, trying to hold her still as she worshipped her, enjoying the feel of those thighs trembling as they pressed against her head. Shy's hands found their way to her thick mane of hair, balling into fists as she pulled Robbie's face closer, intensifying the contact. It only took a few minutes more before Shy was barking out her pleasure, mumbling incoherently as Robbie refused to let up until she sent her over again.

Neither one knew how long they enjoyed each other or when they came up for air long enough to actually unfold the sofa bed and settle beneath the comforter. Snuggling didn't last long and before they knew it, Robbie was on top again, worshiping at Shy's center as Shy worshipped at hers. First it was exploration, then competition to see who could hold out the longest, then...then it was pure, unadulterated pleasure. The pleasure of the feelings both created. The pleasure of the feelings both experienced. 

It was many hours before either woman needed sleep. And when that need stole over them, Robbie settled against the larger woman as if she'd been designed specifically to fit.

***

It took Robbie a moment to remember where she was when she opened her eyes. The snoring mountain of flesh beside her, warm and unnervingly familiar, helped. She smiled, glancing around the tiny studio for a clock. When she found one, she winced. It was already twenty minutes after two. She was due at work by 3. She was careful not to wake her companion as she crept from the bed, gathered her clothes and made for the bathroom. She was glad the bag of money was gone as she quickly showered and used a finger to brush her teeth. She could brush them properly once she arrived at work since she kept an overnight bag there. She shrugged as she toweled off and donned her incredibly wrinkled scrubs, smiling at the ribbing she knew she would take at work. When she emerged some minutes later, Shy was still sleeping soundly. She grabbed her knapsack and left the apartment as quietly as possible. 

She walked the few blocks to her job with a smile on her lips, trying to remember a time when she felt as lighthearted...as goofy or happy. What a surprising turn of events, she told herself. She'd never imagined herself with such an abrasive, withdrawn, seemingly unhappy person. Not only had she spent one of the most memorable nights of her life with Shy, but she knew she wanted more. More of the sex, of course, but also more of Shy. She wanted to get to know the woman, spend time with her, compare battle scars from their childhood, wake up beside her. It was stupid and much too fast she knew, but she didn't care. She could hardly remember a time when something felt so good...so right.

The good natured teasing from her co-workers, the incessant complaints from the elderly residents, and the harsh tone of her supervisor barely registered. And eight hours passed more quickly than she could ever remember. She opted to go home, remembering that Shy worked the graveyard shift, although she wasn't sure what the woman did. At home, she checked in with Janet, balanced her checkbook, ate something only because her stomach was growling, showered, and climbed into bed. She only had five hours before Shy left her job and she wanted to meet her at her front door. 

She was early, pacing in front of the broken front door of Shy's walk up...nervous. She hadn't heard from Shy all day, but she'd realized some time ago they had neglected to exchange phone numbers. The turn of events last night had probably been a surprise to them both. And now she wondered...worried. What if Shy didn't feel the same way? What if it was just a casual fuck for her and she wasn't expecting to continue seeing her? What if Shy shared that kind of energy, that kind of lovemaking, with every woman she slept with? What if Shy wasn't interested in getting to know her? 

She tried not to chew her fingernails, glancing at her watch repeatedly. She had no idea how far away Shy's job was. It was already 7:15. Maybe Shy wasn't returning home straight away. Maybe she had a girlfriend she planned to spend the day with or other business to take care of. She glanced at her watch again. Okay, she would wait until 7:30 and then leave. She hardly wanted to appear desperate and she didn't want Shy to think she was pressuring her. She could feel the erratic beat of her heart, anxiety clinging to her like a fine sheen of sweat. She stopped pacing for a moment, taking a deep breath, calling up the feelings she'd experienced last night with Shy. Surely it hadn't been one-sided? Surely she hadn't imagined the intensity?

Shy watched her from across the street, a grocery bag cradled in one massive arm, a smile tugging at her lips. She looked like she was going to have a nervous break down...or run like a scared little rabbit at any moment. She took a second to wonder about the feeling of pleasure that washed over her at the sight of the compact little honey-colored cutie pacing in front of her building. She enjoyed the look of those curves, poured into a pair of tight black jeans, the slight jiggle of her full breasts barely hidden beneath the tee. It was probably too much, too fast. Isn't this what she wanted to avoid? Isn't this what always got her in trouble? Except...she hadn't felt anything this strong, this fast in....well, probably ever. She dismissed the anxiety...and the feelings for this woman, chalking them up to the delayed grief she was probably trying hard to avoid.

Robbie was preoccupied, still pacing, mumbling to herself, trying to swallow the feelings of discomfort and intense nervousness. She didn't see the figure watching her from across the street and she certainly wasn't able to enjoy the sight of the over-sized woman making her way toward her, her stride casual, not revealing a hint of her own concerns. It wasn't until Shy was standing a foot from her that she realized there was someone there. Her gaze settled on the woman, her head tilting up to take in the somewhat flat, bronzed face, those slanted Asian eyes, settled oddly amongst thick, dark eyebrows, a crooked nose and thick lips. She could remember the feel of those lips on her flesh, between her thighs and she recognized the heat rising, familiar and yet unsettling. She couldn't read those smoky, gray eyes at the moment, not like she could yesterday when the woman was devouring her from head to toe. Today they were flat...dead. Robbie swallowed.

"Uh...hi. I wasn't sure if, uh, if you w-were working...I waited, I was waiting...um, because I wasn't sure, you know, if you were working, but I thought maybe. So, I've been waiting, I didn't know...I didn't give you my phone number, so I thought I would just come over...I've been waiting, but not too long, I just hoped...I wasn't sure or anything...sorry. I wasn't sure."

Robbie bit her own lip, trying to stem the tide of idiotic babble. Shy simply raised a brow.

"I bought stuff for sandwiches. You hungry?"

Seven words. Robbie counted them. Seven words that somehow let her know it was okay that she was here. Shy had bought enough for her...and things were okay. She smiled and hoped she didn't look as goofy as she felt. 

"Uh yea. Food is good. Yea, thanks."

She followed the larger women into the building and up the flight of stairs. When they entered the tiny apartment, the card table was still up, taking up a disproportionate amount of space. Shy had to walk around it to get to the kitchen area.

"Sit. Mayo or mustard?"
"A little of both."

She sat in one of the folding chairs and watched Shy move easily around the tiny area. For a woman her size, she didn't let the cramped space bother her. Robbie wondered if she was used to making the most of the little she had. People who grew up facing hard times usually had to manage...like her family. The three of them crammed into a small 1-bedroom for all those years...she still hated the idea of sharing her space with anyone. It was probably why she'd opted never to move in with anyone, or allow anyone to move in with her. But this woman...she was so used to dealing with nothing, accustomed to taking up as little space as possible. She wondered if the two of them could somehow find a balance. Then she chastised herself for even thinking such a thought. How could she even imagine moving in with this woman? This woman who'd had a grocery bag filled with money in her bathtub only days ago?

"Soda, iced tea, OJ, or wine?"

"Wine?" Robbie raised a brow, surprised.

Shy shrugged a shoulder, her back to Robbie.

"Thought you might drink it."

She wanted to swallow the smile, wanted not to be pleased, but she couldn't help it. 

"Iced tea is fine, thanks."

Moments later, Robbie watched as Shy sat across from her, placing a thick sandwich in front of her. She was drinking a beer. Robbie bit into her sandwich and moaned, not realizing how hungry she was.

"Mmmm, this is great."

Shy didn't respond, eating silently, watching the woman sitting across from her with mild curiosity. What was this woman doing in her tiny, run-down place? Why hadn't she asked about the money? What did she want from her?

They ate the rest of the meal in silence and Robbie tried not to fidget. She hated silence sometimes. She was never sure if it was comfortable or a sign of a problem. But she didn't think Shy would enjoy inane chatter either, so she tried to be accommodating until she couldn't stand it anymore.

"What do you do? I mean where do you work? I realized I had no idea."

"I stock shelves at FreshMart."

Robbie raised a brow, "what do you mean?"

Shy paused for a moment, "I show up at 11, re-stock shelves and help to straighten out the place before they open at 7."

"Oh." It was the only response she could think of. She'd never heard of such a job. For some reason, as offensive as it might be, she couldn't think of anyone other than illegal immigrants occupying such a position. So she asked the next logical question for her. "Why on God's green earth would you want that job?"

Shy sat back, folding her arms across her chest. She'd been waiting for the prejudice. "Well, it's kinda hard to get anything else after you've been in prison. And I didn't feel like flipping burgers or working with other people, so it's perfect for me."

Robbie wanted to kick herself. How could she have forgotten Shy had been in prison? God, she felt like such a fool. It was hard to remember that considering that's simply not how she saw the woman.

"Sorry. I forgot. What were you in for anyway?"

Shy hesitated again. She forgot? No one forgot she went to prison. "What do you mean you forgot?" She bit out.

Robbie was taken aback by the nasty, cold tone. One she recognized from the day before. She'd done something wrong again. She had to fix it.

"Uh...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to offend you. I just...I only see Shy when I look at you, I don't see prison. Did I say something wrong?"

Shy had to admit, for the first time in a long time, this woman simply puzzled her. She'd never met a person that simply 'forgot' she was an ex-con. She wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Then why do you care what I was in for?"

Robbie shrugged, "I don't. It's the second time you mentioned prison so I thought it was important."

Shy couldn't help it. It was such an idiotic answer that it brought a smirk to her lips.

"Armed robbery."

"Oh, okay," Robbie paused for a moment, "do you want to ask me anything?"

Shy nodded, still somewhat amused but quickly growing impatient, "yea, what game you playing at?"

Now it was Robbie's turn to respond defensively.

"What does that mean?"

Shy leaned forward, her posture suddenly threatening, "listen little girl, no one is this naïve and everyone wants something. So what the fuck do you want from me? You want some of that money you saw, 'cuz it ain't mine so you can't have none. You want me to fuck you again, let's get to it already. You want something else, just tell me what it is so I can decide if I want to be bothered."

Robbie could feel her anger shift from simmer to boil in an instant. She knew her eyes had narrowed and her cheeks were probably red. But she didn't blow. She wouldn't give this woman the satisfaction. Instead, she stood, found her purse and left, closing the door behind her. 

***

She wiped another tear from her cheek, trying to keep in most of her hurt and anger as she recounted the ordeal to her best friend hours later.

"You okay?"

She sighed, then chuckled at her pathetic state, "no. No J, I'm not. I'm pissed, and angry...and hurt. I'm not sure why I'm hurt, but I am."

"Well, you like her Roberta, it's normal to be hurt. Don't beat yourself up about that."

"I'm beating myself up about the entire thing. I feel so stupid J. What was I thinking? Clearly this woman and I are worlds apart. There's no meeting her half way. She's so suspicious, so angry, so paranoid...jeez."

She scrubbed at her face, waiting, hoping and praying that her friend didn't believe she was a stupid as she felt. She knew Janet would be honest with her in a way no one else ever would.

"Robbie, come on. Don't go there. You've known her what, a few weeks? She has no reason to believe you're any different from everyone else. I got a vibe that's she's an okay person who's been hurt a lot. Just...just step back and give her some time to process. Either she'll come to you or she won't. If she doesn't, you have to let it go."

Robbie nodded, even though she could feel the tears welling up within her again. She pretty much knew how things would play out. She'd never see Shy again most likely.

"I'm gonna take a hot bath and try to get some sleep. Thank god I'm off tonight."

"Yea...look, call me if you can't settle down, okay? Otherwise, try to relax a little and I'll talk to you later."

"Thanks J. 'Bye."

But she knew, as she ended the call, that she wouldn't be able to sleep. First, it was already noon and she would have been sleeping already if she was going to work. Second, she was far too upset to sleep. After her bath, she'd run some errands and probably take in a movie. She knew of an action adventure that had just opened a few days ago. It would probably take her mind off things for awhile.

*

She managed to keep herself pretty preoccupied and felt drained when she arrived home around 5. She was also starving, having forgotten to eat after the sandwich that morning. She heated up a can of soup and located a package of crackers she felt sure was stale, sitting down at the glass, round table in the corner of her spacious kitchen. She couldn't help but compare her place to the tiny apartment she'd left that morning. That place could probably fit into her 1-bedroom three or four times. Her living room was huge, with floor to ceiling windows, allowing for lots of sunlight, and a working fireplace. She could easily have fit two living room sets into the space with room left over. The kitchen was also large, housing up-to-date appliances, tons of cabinets, a pantry and space for a small table, the one she currently occupied. Her bedroom was massive, her king-sized bed still left room for a comfortable sitting area, replete with two small sofas and a coffee table.

Most of the furniture had belonged to her mother. It had decorated the small 2-bedroom house she'd finally managed to buy after her girls finished college. The furniture, and the modest sum her mother had provided for them upon her death, was all she had left of her mom.

She toyed with her food, annoyed that Shy was still foremost in her thoughts. It's not like she was a virgin. She'd had her fair share of lovers. But Shy had touched something in her. Had reached in and stroked something no one else had been able to reach. She wasn't sure how such an abrasive woman could manage to do that, but it didn't make it any less true. She sighed, dumping the contents of her bowl into the garbage disposal and rinsing out the dish. She needed to sleep, she could feel her mind growing fuzzy with fatigue.

She showered quickly and was just settling beneath the comforter, warming herself from the chill the air conditioner provided, when the doorbell rang. She sat up, surprised for a moment. She wasn't expecting anyone. Tempted to ignore it, she settled beneath the comforter again when she heard the chime once more. She felt the hope start in the pit of her stomach, the anxiety of facing the oversized woman again, the possible joy that she'd come to talk things out...before she realized Shy probably had no idea where she lived. When the chime rang for the third time, she stepped from the bed, more than a little annoyed, and grabbed a robe. She checked the peephole twice before unlocking the door with more than a little shock on her face.

"Officers? Can I help you?"

No one was more surprised at her calm demeanor as she faced two rather tall, well-built police officers. The one on her right spoke first.

"Ms. Peterson? Ms. Roberta Peterson?
"Yes?"

"Can we come in for a minute?"

She took a step back, pulling the robe tighter and cinching the belt. Two white officers in West Philadelphia, even if it was a rather nice part of West Philadelphia, was usually not a good sign. In fact, she remembered the mayor's decree that at least one black officer would always be part of the teams in the West Philadelphia area because of the cries of racial profiling and police misconduct. Which meant these officers were from another part of the city? 

"Uh, can I get either of you something to drink?" 

"No ma'am, we won't take much of your time. We need you to tell us where you were between the hours of 3am and 6am yesterday morning."

She could feel the blush rise to her cheeks, knowing full well where she was. Did she really have to share that information? And why were they asking?

"May I ask why?" She hedged.

"Ma'am, an armed robbery took place at 4th and South Street. We believe Shiloh Long may have been involved. She gave us your name."

Oh. It was the only word that came to mind. And then a slow anger started to build. Why did they think Shy was involved? Because she had a record? She wondered how often Shy had to deal with this crap.




Twenty Minutes



"I was with her from about 11:30pm the night before until around 2:45pm yesterday when I left for work. She was with me all night."

The words were hard to get out considering she had no idea what kind of reaction she faced, but she would vouch for Shy. Shy didn't do it. Of that she was sure.

"Ma'am, was there a time she could have left? One of her former gang-banging friends was involved, so we feel pretty confident—"

"We were, uh, awake most of that time. She didn't leave. I'm sure."

They looked at one another than then nodded. "Okay ma'am, we'll need you to come down to the station to make a statement—"

"Which gang-banging friend?" She wasn't sure why she asked.

"A woman by the name of Terese Cleveland. Bad news. Used to be a good friend of your, er, girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend." The words were out before she could catch herself. The officers looked at one another again and then moved in the direction of the door.

"If you could come down and speak to the desk sergeant some time today or tomorrow, we would appreciate it."

"Sure, of course. No problem."

One of the officers handed her a business card, "thanks for your time."

She closed and locked the door behind them, sighing as she leaned against it for a moment. Her pulse was racing from the fear of having police show up at her door. It was certainly nothing to write home about. And why had Shy given them her name considering they weren't on speaking terms? She could have sunk Shy if she'd wanted to. Landed her back in prison with just one "no." She sighed, but she'd never do that. Would she? No. She had no desire to hurt Shy.

Her entire frame was shaking as she sank down onto one of the overstuffed sofas. A myriad of thoughts swam through her head, but there was only one clear focus...Shy. Was she okay? Had they taken her in? Was she being held? She rushed to her bedroom, changing clothes quickly and hurrying from the apartment.

*

Thirty minutes later she was banging on the door of Apartment H in Shy's dilapidated walkup. It was 5:45pm, most likely Shy was sleeping if she had to work that night. She kept banging, wanting to make sure Shy wasn't home before she headed down to the police station. She wasn't sure what she would do down there since she didn't really have any money for bail. She wasn't even sure Shy would let her put up bail. She sighed, banging once more.

"Shy, it's me! It's Robbie!"

Suddenly she heard the locks click open, but the door to the apartment remained closed. She turned the knob, pushing the door open and stepping inside. She wasn't sure what happened next. The door slammed shut and then someone forced her, face first, against it. Something cold and metallic was pressed against her temple. 

"Who the fuck are you?" A woman's raspy voice demanded.

She didn't recognize the voice. It certainly didn't belong to Shy. Nor did the frame pressing her against the door. 

"I'm a friend of Shy's. I came by to make sure she was okay."

"Why wouldn't she be?"

She wasn't sure how much she should say, but it's not like she had much of a choice.

"The police came to my apartment looking for her."

That was met with silence. For a moment or two they simply stood there, one the aggressor, the other a victim, silence between them. Then the woman holding her against the door took a step back and spun her around.

She was attractive. That was the word that sprang to Robbie's mind. She wasn't really like Shy at all. She was tall, probably as tall as Shy, but slim, with dark hair that brushed her shoulders, hazel-green eyes, and soft, enticing lips. She wore a wife beater without a bra and the shirt allowed the onlooker to see her full breasts and a hint of dark nipple. Her long legs were encased in black, skin tight jeans and she wore the latest brand of sneakers. Quite an attractive package. She realized the woman was also looking her over and a blush rose to her cheeks as she met the woman's look of approval.

"Well, Shy's tastes have improved, that's for sure. You're a sexy little bitch."

Robbie wanted to step away from the woman, put some distance between them, but she didn't really have the space to do so. The tattoo on the woman's arm caught her attention and she made the connection.

"You're Terese, right?"

If she thought that would put the woman at ease, she was wrong. 

"You know me?" The woman asked in a dangerously cold voice.

Robbie quickly shook her head and decided a lie was better than the truth in this situation. It certainly wouldn't make the woman any happier if she knew the police was looking for her.

"Shy mentioned you the other night."

The woman watched Robbie with suspicious eyes.

"Shy told you about me, huh? She doesn't usually name names."

Robbie took a step to the left, but the woman followed her, still close enough to press her back against the door. She swallowed, not sure where this was going.

"So, how did you get her to tell you, huh?" The woman asked in a husky voice, "wanna show me?"

Her lips covered Robbie's before Robbie could process what was happening. It wasn't an unpleasant kiss, just rough, demanding and a little intimidating. When she felt the woman's hand on the slight round of her belly, she tensed. She didn't want this. The hand caressed her slowly, casually, making its way up to her breast and manipulating the soft flesh. Robbie inhaled sharply, trying to fight the fear she felt crawling across her skin.

"Please don't," she pleaded softly.

But the woman ignored her, her hand making its way beneath Robbie's top and pushing her bra aside. She pinched Robbie's slightly hardened nipple between thumb and forefinger, ignoring Robbie's whimper as her mouth closed over Robbie's again. 

Robbie tried not to struggle, tried not to fight, considering she could feel the cold of the gun, still clutched in the woman's other hand, against her side. But she could also feel the panic that seized her just weeks ago start to work its way through her body.

"P-please—"

The front door suddenly pushed open, startling them both, forcing Terese away from Robbie's frightened form. Robbie took advantage of the disturbance and moved away quickly. When she gathered her thoughts a moment later, she looked toward the front door to see who had interrupted them. She could not even describe the relief she felt as she watched Shy close the door behind her.

Shy looked them both over, her eyes quickly registering Robbie's slightly swollen, wet lips and her disheveled clothes. Usually she didn't care when Terese helped herself. After all, they'd shared blood and more than one prison cell. But for some reason, seeing what she was about to do with Robbie pissed her off. She turned to the friend she hadn't seen in awhile.

"What the fuck are you doing here? That fucking guard you did was an off-duty cop."

Terese had recovered much more quickly than Robbie. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and lit one.

"Yea, we didn't know that shit 'til after. I didn't pull the trigger. I need a place to crash."

"They had my ass back in lock up. Just assumed I was running with you again." Shy bit out.

"Yea, I know. Sorry 'bout that."

Shy snatched the cigarette from between her friend's lips, dragging on it deeply before handing it back to her.

"I already risked my ass holding that package for your girl the other day. Leave me out of this shit."

Robbie tried to keep up, her heart still slamming against her chest as she watched them like a tennis match. Terese had committed a robbery, that much she knew from the police. But she hadn't known a guard was killed, clearly one that was also a police officer. 

Terese looked over at Robbie and winked, a wicked smile pulling at her lips as the color rose to Robbie's cheeks.

"Nice piece of ass you got there. Why don't you go away and give us a few?"

Shy swallowed the urge to punch her friend, her sister for the most part, in the face. Her fingers clenched, a sign of the anger coursing through her.

"I'll make some phone calls," Shy stated, her voice dangerously calm. She opted to ignore the question her friend had posed. "Find you a place for a few days."

All three women stood silently, waiting for Terese's reaction. The woman smiled, winked at Robbie again, and then made her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Alone for the moment, Shy finally turned to Robbie.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" She snapped.

Robbie blinked, "I was worried about you. The cops came to my place—"

Shy nodded, making her way across the small space to stand before Robbie. She reached out and wiped the wet of Terese's kiss from Robbie's lower lip, unconsciously caressing Robbie's cheek before she caught herself, forcing herself to stop and lower her hand.

"Sorry for giving the cops your name."

Robbie nodded, "it wasn't a problem. You're not in any trouble, are you?"

Shy found herself shaking her head no before she stopped, angry that she felt compelled to assure this woman her hands were clean. She clenched her fingers into fists again, this time trying to resist the urge to pull Robbie into her arms.

"Look, why don't you go home?"

Robbie nodded, torn between wanting to stay by Shy's side and wanting to flee from the overly aggressive woman in the bathroom.

"I didn't want to kiss her, she—"

"Hey," Shy silenced her, not comfortable with Robbie's wish to explain herself. "Just go, okay?"

"I'm off tomorrow. Will I see you?"

"Maybe. Go."

Robbie found herself ushered out of the tiny apartment. She paused for a moment in the corridor, listening to the sounds of the locks clicking into place, before hurrying down the stairs and hailing a cab.

***

Shy stood in front of one of her tiny windows, her eyes moving back and forth between the woman sleeping on her sofa and the darkened street. She was remembering what if felt like that first day in juvie, no friends, no one to talk to, bullies already eyeing her as their next conquest. She was smaller then, but still large for a 12 year old. She knew she could fight them off for a while, but she didn't know what would happen over the long haul.

Terese had already been in juvie for 2 years. At 11, she'd run away from home for the fifth time and was pregnant. Her mother called the cops. She never did tell that her mother's new boyfriend was the father of the baby.

Somehow they'd found each other, protected one another, helped each other through school, and formed a bond Shy had never experienced before. A bond of true friendship...true sisterhood.

And for years, that was enough. Even when Terese became an addict, it was enough. The guns, the drugs, the gang, the women...it was enough. And then, for some reason, after doing hard time, Shy realized she wanted a different life. Maybe her mother wasn't right about her. Maybe she didn't just take up space. And because her 'sister' was hooked on a drug she simply had no control over, she'd had to leave her behind.

She'd taken her share of shit for leaving the gang. Simply waking away wasn't an option. So, she'd faced harassment, beat downs, and other intimidation tactics until they realized she was serious and would keep her mouth shut. Then Terese visited, promising she was off the shit. But after crashing at her place overnight, Shy found her rent money gone along with a few other items that could be fenced easily. She wasn't angry, realizing Terese couldn't help herself. But that had been the last time she'd seen her...until today.

And now? Shy sighed with frustration as she continued to stare out of the window. Now her friend had brought murder, a cop's murder, to her door. And she had involved a woman that didn't belong in their world. A woman...a woman she had no business bothering with herself. What did she have to offer Robbie? Nothing. She had absolutely nothing to offer anyone. So, what had she been thinking, finding herself attracted to Roberta Peterson? She hadn't been thinking.

*

Robbie finally managed to sleep, although she'd taken a sleeping pill to do so. But she was awake by 2am, staring off into space, much like Shy was doing a few miles away. She worried about Shy, wondering what she was doing, whether or not the cops had tracked Terese down, frightened Shy would be implicated. Then she chastised herself for worrying about a woman who had treated her like shit just hours ago. Yet, she couldn't erase the look of concern she'd seen on Shy's face, that caress against her cheek, Shy's desire to get her away from that situation as soon as possible.

She hadn't imagined those feelings. Just as she hadn't imagined the night they'd spent together. Shy was used to pushing people away. She couldn't trust because of the many times she'd been hurt. But even with all that baggage, she cared. She demonstrated kindness and consideration, protected her, and even went against a long time friend to make sure she was safe. That kind of person didn't come along every day. No, she had to trust her instincts. Even though she was scared, she had to believe she'd been thrust into this woman's life for a reason. Part of that reason was to ease the loneliness she herself felt inside when she was alone in her nicely decorated apartment. And part of that reason was to save Shy from herself, from that wall she'd built around herself, preventing anyone from getting in. 

She didn't have all the answers, but she was going to trust her gut, trust Janet's vibe, and simply trust the Universe. All of this was happening for a reason. She would stick it out until given a sign that she should do otherwise.

*

She tried to keep herself busy, trying not to worry about, or rush, Shy. She wanted to see her, almost needed to see her, but she also had a dozen things to do herself. She was behind on her chores, the bathroom needed attention in particular, and she needed to run a few errands, especially one to the bank to deposit a check. So she managed to keep herself pretty occupied until that evening. And then she began to worry. Shy had to work at eleven. If she didn't arrive soon, they wouldn't be able to see one another. And then she was working the next four days straight. Considering she slept while Shy worked and Shy slept while she worked...if Shy didn't stop by now, they wouldn't be able to really "see" one another for a while. But perhaps she was the only one worried about that? Perhaps.

She prepared a chicken and pasta dish for herself around 4pm, called her sister and a few friends to gossip, and then sat down in front of the television, flipping through the channels. At 6pm, she realized Shy probably wasn't coming. She hadn't promised to, after all. She sighed, cleaning up the mess she'd made in the kitchen and dumping a load of laundry in the machine. She chatted with Janet online for a few minutes before giving up the pretense that she wasn't disappointed. The only reason she was sitting in her apartment, instead of knocking on Shy's door, was because she wasn't certain Terese had left yet. And that was one woman she had no intention of bumping into again if she could help it.

She was folding laundry when she heard the knock on the door...and her heart slipped into overdrive immediately. She glanced at her watch, they still had about three hours before Shy had to leave for work. They could cover a lot of ground in three hours, right? If nothing else, she'd ask Shy to answer some of the questions brewing in the back of her overactive mind.

But those thoughts disappeared when she opened the door and the real thing was standing on the other side of it. Familiar combat boots, fatigue bottoms tucked into them, and a white tank adorned her broad frame. She carried a denim jacket over her shoulder. There was no smile on her beautifully bronzed colored face, just one raised thick eyebrow and a bit of a smirk on those full, lush lips. But there was something in those sexy, smoky gray eyes...eyes that seemed bottomless...eyes that held her captive. So, the lack of smile on her guest's face didn't stop one from appearing on hers.

"Hi. It was getting late and I knew you had to work, so I wasn't sure—"

In one movement Shy tossed her jacket onto a sofa, kicked the door shut, and silenced Robbie with a kiss. She was reluctant to admit she hungered for this woman, had thought about her all day, longed to lie beside her last night. Even as she drove her friend to a secure spot just an hour ago, it was this curvaceous little troublemaker, with her sexy full lips and deliciously soft body, that filled her thoughts. She pulled the band from Robbie's hair, combing her fingers through the silken strands, shifting to cup Robbie's full bottom and pull her closer, so much closer.

Robbie moaned as Shy kissed her, enjoying the feel of this woman's strong arms around her, the taste of her, the feel of her thick, oversized body pressed against her. She smiled against those hungry lips as Shy quickly undid her jeans, unbuttoned her shirt, unhooked her bra. She was as anxious to shed this woman's clothing as well, yanking the tank top from the waistband of her fatigues. 

They were on their knees suddenly, tossing aside their clothing until Robbie felt the plush carpet beneath the heated flesh of her back. Shy was over her, looking down at her, that smirk still toying with her lips, before Robbie reached up to pull her down, crushing her lips to Shy's. Her fingers hungrily explored the expanse of Shy's back, caressing, teasing, scratching as the hunger grew. Her breath caught when Shy captured a hardened nipple between her teeth, lashing at it with her tongue while her knee impatiently parted Robbie's thighs. Robbie wasted no time, riding that muscular thigh, her center wet, her breathing labored as Shy continued to feast on her nipple. She felt excitement sweep through her, heating her blood, not sure how this woman could create such a state within her. And then, suddenly, she slammed into a wave of bliss that wreaked havoc with her senses. The high pitched whine she released did nothing to reveal the intensity of the feelings coursing through her as the orgasm annihilated her every thought.

Shy shifted onto her side, quickly removing her pants as Robbie tried to regroup. Robbie watched her, enjoying the sight of well-developed thighs. It took a moment for the leather bands around her waist to register and she licked her lips as her eyes feasted on the thick dildo. She smiled again, the aftermath of her first orgasm still singing through her veins as she pushed Shy onto her back, straddling those amazing thighs and slowly sinking down onto the stout dick. She closed her eyes, her head thrown back, enjoying the sensation of fullness, the ripples of pleasure it sent through her. And when she felt herself relax just a bit, felt the rest of the thick package settle inside, she opened her eyes, leaned over and hungrily kissed the woman beneath her. It was then Shy began to move her hips, slowly, allowing Robbie to adjust to the size and feel of it. Robbie felt the moan begin in the back of her throat as sensations rushed through her. She cupped her own breasts, pinching the nipples enjoying the feel of Shy's fingers digging into her hips in a way that would leave bruises.

Shy watched her, sitting astride, riding her, playing with herself, her eyes closed, her hair wild, her body responding deliciously. Her own nipples were hard, a sheen of perspiration covered her flesh, and she could feel her heart beating riotously as she enjoyed the intoxicating vision of the beauty before her. She winced, trying to fight off an impending orgasm as the base of the dildo collided with her hardened nub over and over again. Every upward movement this woman above her invited ended in an almost agonizing attempt to stave off imminent pleasure. Finally, unable to fight against it in this position, she shifted their positions, rolling Robbie onto her back, trying to be mindful of the rug burns she was about to create as she settled herself between this stimulating woman's thighs.