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A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 01

By: Rogue Writer



A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad

(F/F, oral, anal, exhibitionism, jewelry, drugs, tattoos, piercings, food, bad accents)

DISCLAIMER – This is a fictional story to be read and enjoyed. If you can't read, stop reading. If you can't enjoy, stop reading. If you don't like any of the story codes mentioned above, stop reading. If you can't stop, it's not my problem.

Part 1 – Death and Addiction

There was complete silence for almost the entire car ride. At first I wasn't sure if Greg wanted it that way or if he was uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. We were stopped at a red light when a woman walking a Dalmatian crossed in front of us. She was wearing a white fur coat with black spots and looked like the human twin of her dog. Greg broke the silence by saying, "If I were that pooch I'd be mighty offended." 

I didn't respond and kept my eyes forward. Greg turned to me, and out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was smiling. He shrugged and said, "I can't tell who's walking who."

That's when I knew he was uncomfortable. I didn't say anything. Greg's smile slowly dropped. If there was a slight amount of tension in the car before, it had just doubled. A horn behind us honked because the light was green. Greg hit the gas and didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. 

It wasn't that I was trying to be a bitch, I was just holding in my emotions. I'd wanted to cry all day. But I didn't want to do it in front of Greg or any of his family, didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me vulnerable. I wanted them to see a woman who was standing tall, not ashamed of who or what she was and able to take tragedy without turning into a puddle of tears. Especially after the way they'd treated me.

I wasn't sure if Greg's offer to give me a ride home came from genuine sincerity or if someone had dumped the responsibility on him. I should have left with my friends when they took off, but something – pride, stubbornness, or most likely spite – made me stick around until almost everyone was gone. Very few of the family talked to me or even acknowledged my presence, which seemed to make it all the more important for me to stick around, so they would remember that I had been a part of her life too.

When we pulled up in front of my building I uttered a thank you, figuring I should get out quickly and save us both from any more uncomfortable time together. But before I could open the door Greg said, "Keisha?"

"Yes?" I responded, without looking at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, "for the way my family behaves around you." 

It should have cut the tension in half, yet somehow it didn't work. I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to respond to his statement, but Greg continued before I had the chance. "They're a conservative bunch of people. And with Monica being the baby of the family, well, that just made it worse." He paused for a moment and I realized he couldn't look at me either. "They just wanted to think that it was some kind of phase she was going through."

"It was not a phase," I spat out with anger, "and she was twenty-seven, not a baby."

"I know," Greg said. Then he turned to look at me. "And I know it wasn't just some phase. I think I knew it since we were teenagers. Just one of those things you kind of sense, you know?" Greg waited for a response but I offered none. He continued, "Anyway, I'm not trying to excuse the way they behaved, in fact I'm telling you I know it's not right and I'm sorry I played along with it." He turned and looked out at the street. "My cousin really loved you and we should have understood that. To tell you the truth, I don't think Monica had half as much of a problem with the family accepting her for who she was as she did with how we treated you."

There was a long silence after that, but the tension was gone, at least for me. I realized I needed to ease it for Greg, but couldn't think of how. 

Finally I said, "When I came out to my dad...he laughed."

Greg turned to me and I looked at him. "Not the kind of reaction you'd usually expect, but if you knew my dad," I smiled, both for emphasis and the thought of my father. Greg smiled too. "He was such a joker," I continued, "and a wiseass. He laughed at a lot of things in life. But it was the kind of laughter that came as a reaction to how horrible and twisted life could be, because if he didn't laugh the only other options were anger or depression. So when he was done laughing he told me 'Honey, you're a woman, you're black, and now you're gay. All you need is a disability and you'll be the Minority Queen.'"

Greg laughed outright and so did I. When we finished I shook my head. "And in that wonderfully fucked up way of his I immediately knew what my dad was saying. That I'd better prepare for having a hard time with people accepting me."

Greg's smile faded and so did mine. We both looked straight ahead. Greg said, "You're father sounds like a wise man."

I took a deep breath. "He was. And he was right about a lot of things." I turned towards Greg again. "But it's people like you that prove he could be wrong sometimes." I leaned over and kissed Greg on the cheek. "Thank you."

I got out of the car before he could say anything else.

*

Walking up the stairs to my apartment brought back memories, specifically of that day, six months ago, which was the last time I could remember feeling any kind of happiness. A day when I was running up those stairs with only joy and excitement coursing through my body because I'd just found out I'd landed a promotion at work, something I had been working on and sweating over for months. Monica kept telling me I'd get it even though I worried and fretted, so I was dying to tell her. When I burst through the door she was sitting on the couch.

"You will never guess what happened!" I yelled. And that was exactly the last moment of happiness I had. The look on Monica's face told me there was something wrong, very wrong. She was home early because she had an appointment with the doctor and suddenly I put the two together in my head. 

Yeah, that was the last moment of happiness I can remember.

It was cancer, and it was long past the doctor's ability to do much about it. Sure, there were some last ditch efforts and the possibility of taking part in a new experimental drug. Lots of researching on my part with everything from doctors working on the extreme edges of science to holistic and natural remedies to positive thinking therapy, but nothing worked and here I was six months later, walking through the door to the apartment again.

And this time she was gone. Forever.

Crying should have been the first thing on my agenda, I'd been holding it in all day, but I was so tired that I went to the bedroom and laid down on the bed and passed out. When I woke up the sun was setting. I went into the living room and saw there were some messages on the machine. 

My fingers went to touch the play button, and that's when it happened. A flash of memory from when Monica and I bought the machine – we got into an intense argument about whether to get it in silver or black (I won). It was one of those stupid arguments that started over something small and blossomed to the point where it's more about anger than the small thing that started it. After spending the entire ride home bringing up every single thing that bothered both of us about each other, we got into a screaming match in the parking lot and finally ended up apologizing for everything we ever did to piss each other off in the stairwell. The makeup sex started as soon as we walked through the door when she pushed me against the wall and started kissing me. Now I was alone with the stupid silver answering machine. Somehow I wished I could go back and let her win the argument. I shook my head and chalked it all up to not eating anything all day.

More memory flashes came in the kitchen. The microwave was the second one we owned together, only because we dropped the first on the way up the stairs. The utensil drawer held two sets of silverware that didn't even come close to matching – the cheap stuff from my college apartment and her grandmother's ornate set that was older than our building. The Liberty Bell salt and pepper shakers were from a romantic weekend in Philadelphia where we spent the entire time having sex in our hotel room. We realized we needed something to remember the trip and picked them up in the gift shop after checking out. I made food quickly and left the kitchen.

Eating and watching television kept my mind busy for a little while. But once all the food was in my stomach I started noticing how every damn story on television has a romance blooming, in trouble or ending. Don't these stupid writers have anything else to write about? Then I remembered when Monica wrote a poem about the first time she saw me. I could recall some of the lines and started reciting them to myself and suddenly I started crying. 

I turned off the television and curled up on the couch. My nose was buried in the cushion and I smelled the same scent I'd smelled all those times we spent curled up here. Monica would usually lay behind me and start by kissing my neck, soft, light kisses that made me moan. Then she'd press her lips against one spot and let her tongue come between them to touch my skin. Her hand would slide slowly up and down my side until she finally got under my shirt and...

No, no. I wasn't going to do this to myself. I needed to keep it together. 

But the more I told myself that, the more I felt myself slipping. I looked around the room for some kind of help, but all I saw were things that brought back more memories of Monica. The computer she always screamed at, the do-it-yourself cabinet that we put together backwards, the desk lamp we both hated but kept around, pictures of us every place we'd been. My eyes fell on the picture of us at her uncle's cabin. I walked over and picked it up, staring at the two of us with wide smiles on our faces. That was what did it. I started into an outright bawl and dropped to the floor, clutching the picture to my chest and calling her name several times. The picture reminded me that at twenty-nine years old I was already a widow.

I had to get out of the apartment. Jumping to my feet, I barely stopped to grab my jacket and keys before I was out the door. When I got to the street I looked both ways, unsure of where I was headed. I realized I needed to do something extreme to get my mind off of things. Suddenly I knew what that was. I walked the three blocks to a local bar, but I wasn't there for a drink. Alcoholism runs in my family, so I always avoided using booze to ease my pains. I used something else.

When I walked in the door someone grabbed my arm. This was no surprise since most of my friends hang out there. But the person on the other end of that arm was Asian Andy. When he was a baby Andy was abandoned on the steps of a church, and since he doesn't know his exact ethnic background he just calls himself Asian Andy. His hair is down to his shoulders and he wore one of the six hundred heavy metal T-shirts in his wardrobe. For a laid back guy, Andy always has a serious look on his face and tonight was no different. If I didn't know any better I'd think he was waiting for me to walk in.

"Keisha, don't do it. This is a mistake." 

I yanked my arm away from him. "Stop it Andy," I said and walked away as fast as I could. Andy is a sweetheart, but he claims to have psychic visions that predict the future, and that bothered the hell out of me. I'm a firm believer in self-determination, that our destinies are not written and we have the power to choose our own fate. It's why I don't practice religion, read horoscopes, call psychics, use Ouija boards or toss pennies into fountains. So Andy's visions have become more of an annoyance for me on principal. I decided not to worry about it and concentrate on what I came for. 

My eyes looked up and down the bar until I finally I spotted him. He also has long hair, except it's brown and curly, and where Andy is medium height and thin, Baked Bob is a large framed man who towers over most people. Usually he wears T-shirts as well, but Bob was still in his suit from the funeral. He was talking to an attractive woman that I recognized but couldn't place. I walked up to them and smiled.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt," I said.

Bob smiled. "Keish! Didn't expect to see you out tonight, I mean, after the funeral and..." he suddenly turned to the woman. "My friend Keisha here is a lesbian. You know what I always say about her, 'Real men don't eat Keish'."

His female companion laughed. Something seemed strange about Bob; he was acting weird and talking too fast. I realized I needed to cut to the chase. "Bob, I need some pot."

Baked Bob looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He got up and excused himself and pulled me over to the wall. "Your timing sucks ass."

I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen before – they were clear. That's what was wrong with him. "Holy shit," I said. "Are you straight?"

He sighed. "I didn't want to smoke before the funeral today. I figured I owed Monica at least that." While Monica smoked pot once in a while, she objected to Bob's twenty-four seven diet. Bob smiled, "And then I met the lovely lady over there and we've been together the rest of the day."

"Wait...you picked up a girl at the funeral?!"

Bob nodded with vigor. "Crazy, right? I never thought about it before, but funerals got loads of opportunity. You're with all these girls you've never met and you all have something in common to talk about already, you know? 'How'd you know the deceased?' It's the perfect icebreaker."

I shook my head. Monica had to be turning over in her grave right now. Bob continued, "And not only do I meet a chick, but she's so into me. We spent the day together, and I mean the whole day! It's like she doesn't want to be without me."

I looked over at the woman, and then it hit me. "Fuck, Bob, that's Monica's cousin Leslie!"

"So?"

"So she's insane!"

Bob laughed. "Well, Monica always said any girlfriend of mine would have to be."

"No, I mean literally insane! She was committed for two years because she was obsessed with some married guy and tried to kill his wife!"

"Really?" Bob looked over at Leslie. "Cool."

"Cool!" I yelled. Bob put up his hands to quiet me down. I caught my breath. "I tell you she's a lethal head case and you say 'cool'?"

"Yeah. I mean, haven't you ever wished you had someone so into you that they'd kill for you?"

Suddenly my heart sank. Bob's jaw dropped and he put his hands on my shoulders. "Keish, I'm sorry, I didn't..."

I pushed his hands off. "Don't," I said, keeping myself calm and trying to keep Monica out of my head. "Don't worry about it. I just need some stuff."

"I don't have any here. But..." Baked Bob looked like he was in thought, which was a strange look on him. "I know someone who has some stuff, and she's nearby."

Bob said he would call ahead and tell this woman I was coming. I had to take a taxi to the address he gave. The whole ride over I kept thinking about what Asian Andy said to me. Deep down I knew I shouldn't even be entertaining the thought, especially since I don't believe anyone has psychic ability. But there's just something about Andy. I've seen him in action, and while he's not a hundred percent correct all the time, his track record was good enough for me to wonder if he was the real deal. 

The address was in a part of town with large mansions, where rich people are separated from the common riff raff by endless front lawns and tall bushes. The actual distance was only two miles, but in so many ways it's light years from my area where apartment buildings and small row houses sit right on top of each other. It took about as long to walk to the front door as it does for me to walk up to my fifth floor apartment from the street. Right as I was about to touch the bell the door swung open. There was an Asian woman standing there wearing a bra, panties and a sheer bed jacket. Many Asian women can be hard to judge age-wise – this one could have been anywhere from sixteen to thirty-six. 

"Renee?" I asked.

"No. You must be Keisha. Lady Renee has been expecting you. Come in." I walked in and she shut the door behind me. The foyer was lit with several candles and a chandelier that barely illuminated the area around it. The woman stepped in front of me. "Lady Renee will see you in the master bedroom. Follow me please."

I had to keep myself from laughing at all this pomp and circumstance. Lady Renee? She's been expecting me? There had to be ten or fifteen minutes between the time I left Bob and the time I got there. And this woman must have been waiting by the window in order to open the door before I had a chance to ring the bell. What was really strange was the master bedroom part, unless Renee was an invalid. 

I followed her through the foyer into the living room. It looked very fancy, but in a strange way, like the designer was on crack. Each corner of the room had a long piece of fabric hanging down from the ceiling with an excess bunch piled on the floor. Every piece was a different color and none of them matched the couch or chairs. Somehow every one of the knick-knacks around the room managed to look out of place, and instead of being one piece, the mirror above the fireplace was a bunch of smaller mirrors of different sizes and shapes. It looked like a puzzle that would never come together.

As we walked up the stairs I could see the thong the woman was wearing through the sheer fabric of the bed jacket. There was a tattoo on her right butt cheek that I couldn't make out. She wore an anklet on her left ankle, and when I looked closer I realized it looked like diamonds. Either it was a really good fake or one of the most expensive pieces of jewelry I'd ever seen. 

Once we were upstairs she led me to a set of double doors and then turned to face me. "Please remove your shoes and socks," she said. I complied and put them beside the door. The way things were in this place I wouldn't have been surprised if the bedroom floor was covered in an inflatable moonwalk. The woman turned and gave a soft knock on the door.

A voice from inside said "Enter."

She opened both doors and we stepped in. It was a large room designed the same way as the one we passed through downstairs, with mismatching trinkets and the colored fabrics hanging in each corner. Soft music played from a stereo I couldn't see, some kind of nature sounds were mixed in with the music. There was a heavy smell of incense in the air. 

Against the far wall of the room was a large four-poster bed with a canopy. On the bed were two naked women. One had copper colored skin and long dark hair and looked to be somewhere in her mid to late thirties. Her body had some curves to it and she had large breasts with large, brown nipples and a thin strip of pubic hair. The other woman was a pale, thin girl who looked to be nineteen or twenty. She had small breasts and if she ever allowed hair to grow on her mound it would probably be the same reddish brown as on the top of her head. The girl had what I assumed to be a bong in her hand. It was a large metal piece with a tube covered in metallic mesh leading out of it. The girl held the tube while the older woman sucked out of it.

"Miss Renee, this is Keisha."

The older woman sat up and slowly let the smoke dribble out of her nostrils. "Thank you Zhi. You may go." Renee spoke with an English accent. Zhi gave a slight bow and closed the doors as she left. It was getting harder and harder to keep from laughing at all this.

"So," Renee said. "Baked Bob tells me you want to buy some pot." She started stroking the younger woman's breast. "How much?"


A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 01



"Depends on price. An eighth. Maybe a quarter."

Renee gave what she must have considered a snort. "That's barely worth my time. Why did he send you to me?" 

I smiled and shrugged. "We're both lesbians?"

That didn't amuse her any. "Are you planning to sell what you buy from me?"

"No. It's just for personal use."

Renee smiled. "Personal use. You work in the corporate world, don't you?" I simply nodded without offering more detail. The less she knew about me the better.

"I pity you," she said. "When I was doing interior design I'd take a few jobs for corporations. I was able to see how they sucked the life out of people, turned them into robots scurrying around at their bidding, doing things their way, using their language. Personal use." She shook her head. "So, is pot the only thing you personally use?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"That's a shame. There are so many other wonderful things to try." Renee stared into my face for a moment. "Bob told me you're in pain," she said. I felt a flash of anger at my friend, but filed it away for later.

"Is that why you want the pot?" she asked. "To relieve your pain and suffering?"

I nodded sheepishly.

Renee shook her head with a disapproving look. "Marijuana is not the solution for that. It's for opening up your mind, not shutting it down." Renee stretched out her hand, tapped on a silver tray on the bedside and said, "Duscha." I assumed that was the young woman's name, because she slid off the bed and brought the tray to me. I noticed Duscha wore a silver belly chain. On the tray there were about a dozen white pills.

"What is it?" I asked.

Renee smiled. "Your ticket down the rabbit hole." Duscha giggled. 

I sighed and said, "No, really, what are they?"

"The cure to your pain."

"No thanks," I said. "One vice is enough for me. I don't even smoke that often anyway."

Renee got on her knees, crawled to the bedpost and leaned on it. "Life should be experienced, not denied. Besides, what do you have to lose?"

For the first time since I walked into the house I thought about Monica. I took a pill off the tray and looked at it. Small, round, and innocent looking, it hardly struck me as a magical cure. Getting Monica back was the only way to do that. I popped the pill into my mouth and swallowed. 

Renee smiled. "Welcome to oblivion."

"I don't feel anything," I said.

"Soon. Let us have some entertainment while we wait." Renee turned. "Duscha."

"Yes ma'am." The girl spoke with an accent that I couldn't place, maybe European. After she walked out I asked Renee where she was from.

"Russia. She came over here to be a model. I don't think it's working out to well for her." There seemed to be a sinister quality to Renee's voice as she said the last part, but I couldn't tell for sure. Reality was in flux at the moment.

The doors opened and Zhi walked in behind Duscha. Renee got up and went to a round, half backed sofa across from the side of the bed. When she lay down on it I noticed there was enough space for another person. Renee looked at me and patted the space next to her. I walked over and sat on the edge.

"Don't be afraid of me," Renee said. "I only bite upon request."

I slid over and lay next to her. She put her arm around me and we looked at the bed. Duscha and Zhi were kneeling on it, facing each other. I realized the music had changed and some techno song was playing. The two girls started crawling around on the bed, like two predators sizing each other up. 

Renee's fingers started caressing my shoulder. As the two women circled, I could see the playful look on Duscha's face and the fierce look on Zhi's. It was obvious the Asian woman was very competitive. Duscha may have been playing around, but to someone like Zhi, even a game like this was something she had to win. 

Renee's other hand rested on my leg and started moving back and forth. For a moment it looked like Duscha was going to move in on Zhi, but she held her place. Renee's hand moved up the inside of my leg. 

Duscha started to swat her hand at Zhi, trying to provoke her. I felt Renee's other hand move from my shoulder to the back of my neck. One of Duscha's swats made contact with Zhi's face, just as Renee's hand arrived at my sex and pressed down. 

I sighed as Zhi made some sort of grunting noise. Suddenly she lunged. Duscha was caught off guard and before she knew it Zhi was on top of her, literally, kissing her mouth with force. There was pressure on my neck and suddenly Renee's mouth and mine were engaged. Our kiss was as soft and gentle as the one on the bed was savage and forced. 

I was a little reluctant to open my mouth to Renee, but suddenly my mind had the notion that it wanted to feel her tongue and I gave in. Then I realized something had changed. A shift of some kind that wasn't as much physical as it was mental. Renee ended the kiss by putting her hands on my face and pushing it back. Her thumbs were caressing my cheeks when she asked, "How do you feel?"

Suddenly I remembered the pill. The smile on my face was more of a feeling than an action. "Much better," I responded.

"Good," Renee said. We looked at the bed and watched for a moment as Zhi sucked on Duscha's right breast, then turned back towards each other. Renee pulled my face to hers and we started a slow, sensual kiss. She pulled me closer and I could feel her bare breasts up against my shirt. I brought my hands up and slowly touched her breasts with my fingertips, lightly tracing their size. Our eyes made contact and we stared at each other as we slowly broke the kiss.

A groan brought our attention back to the bed. Zhi's tongue had made its way down Duscha's stomach and was licking her crotch. Duscha spread her legs and, with the grace and agility of a gymnast, brought them back so her ankles were at her ears. Zhi licked the underside of Duscha's legs in such a slow and deliberate manner that Duscha's moan sounded more like she was being tortured than pleasured. Zhi sat back for a moment and let her fingers trace around Duscha's crotch, and then leaned in to give a long, slow lick from asshole to clit.

"Oh, God!" Duscha cried out, and then said something in what sounded like Russian. At that point Zhi dove in and began eating out the young girl in front of her.

I lost track of time after that. Renee started kissing me again and while that happened we both worked on getting my clothes off. I licked and sucked one of Renee's nipples, my tongue flicking over the skin as my hand caressed and tweaked the other one. She turned us over and licked down my left side until she got to my foot, which she bathed with her tongue, and after giving the other one the same treatment she licked up the inside of my leg to my sex. I anticipated her tongue so much there I could almost feel it as she locked eyes with me. Renee leaned down and pressed her lips to my mound, kissing it as she gave a moan that sent vibrations through my entire body.

Renee was easily the best lover I'd ever had. In that night alone she discovered all of my sensitive spots – behind my ears, my armpits, my toes and even the line where my leg met my hip right above my crotch. Renee's tongue danced over my nether lips so well that I was crying and screaming. At that moment, if she had asked me to go out and rob a bank for her to continue, I probably would have done it. When I cried out "Oh yeah!" as her tongue moved down and touched my rosebud, I noticed the look in her eyes and the grin on her face. She knew she had my weakness. Renee took a break from my pussy and gave me the best rim job I'd ever experienced. The music had changed and "Six Underground" by The Sneaker Pimps was playing.

I looked at what was happening on the bed. Zhi was on her hands and knees. She had lost her housecoat and thong and I could see the tattoo on her ass was a green colored Chinese character. Duscha was behind Zhi, her hands holding open the Asian woman's ass checks as her tongue worked on Zhi's anus. Zhi's face showed little reaction to what was being done to her, but I had the impression Zhi would look the same way if her arm were being ripped off. Her only indication of pleasure was to make a low moan when she exhaled. And there was something about that subtle gesture that made it twice as sexy as it would have been if she was writhing and screaming. Suddenly Zhi looked up and our eyes met. There was sadness in her stare, and something in the look we exchanged went beyond the sexual acts being performed on us. A recognition of some kind, and suddenly I had the feeling neither of us were very happy people.

Renee crawled up my back and lay down on top of me, kissing along my neckline and then bringing her lips close to my ear.

"Do you feel it now?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," I said, dragging out the last word for way too long. We watched as Zhi turned over and Duscha began eating her pussy. I passed out before Zhi came.

When I woke up it was dark in the room. I was still on the two-person chair and there was a blanket over me. Renee was on the bed, flanked by Zhi and Duscha, all of them asleep. The little white pill was still working it's magic, but I managed to find my clothes without waking anyone and slipped out into the hallway where I got dressed. I went out the front door and started walking. My place was across town and it was three in the morning, but I was feeling very good and it didn't seem like a big deal. When I got to the center of town I looked through all the shop windows as I passed. For some reason I equated it with flipping channels while watching television, checking out each one and moving on. 

But looking through the window at a hobby shop stopped me cold in my tracks. They had displays of little model houses and scenes. One of them was a log cabin. Suddenly the numbness in my chest went away and my heart felt hollow. For the first time in several hours Monica's face popped back in my head. 

I remembered being blindfolded on the ride. We were in Monica's jeep and it felt like we needed to be. The bumps on the road felt like we were driving over boulders and into depressions bigger than the potholes in Brooklyn. I heard Monica laugh, that sweet childish laugh of hers, and realized she was having fun on this road.

I pointed at the blindfold. "Is this because I always complain about your driving?"

"Nooo, silly. There's a surprise."

I grabbed at the dashboard as we rose and then dropped. "I'll be surprised enough if we survive the trip."

Monica laughed again. A little while later we stopped, but I wasn't sure if it was because she hit the brakes or we were stuck. I heard Monica open her door and get out. "Hey!" I said, but there was no response. I was about to peek out of the blindfold when my door opened.

"No peeking!" Monica said as she slapped my hand away. She assisted me out of the jeep and led me a few feet until we stopped. Other than the fact that I knew we were outside because I felt the sun on my face I had no clue where we were.

"Stay put for a minute," Monica ordered. I heard some kind of rustling nearby. A bird chirped and then there was a kind of swooshing sound. I was really confused.

"Okay," Monica called out from what sounded like a few yards behind me. "You can take it off now."

I slid the cloth from my eyes and what I saw took my breath away. We must have been on the side of a mountain because I could see a valley below and other mountains off in the distance. It was one of the most beautiful vistas I'd ever seen. Most of the valley was full of trees and the majestic mountain range beyond looked untouched by human hands. "Wow," I simply stated.

Monica said, "If you think that's cool, check out what's behind you."

I turned. It was a small log cabin with a stone chimney and a large porch with two rocking chairs sitting on it. The cabin sat near the middle of a small grass clearing surrounded by trees, and behind the cabin it looked like the hill sloped up another half a mile to the top of the mountain. Monica stood in front of the cabin, stark naked except for a waist chain and an anklet. She held her arms up high. "Isn't it fantastic?" she yelled.

I walked over to her. "What is this place?"

"My uncle owns it. Well, the cabin and some of the land around it." She put her arms around me and gave me a kiss. "Just think," she said when she broke the kiss. "You and me here for eight days, far away from civilization. No need for clothes. We can have sex anywhere we want. And there's a lake down the path over there."

"Mmm," I said. "Skinny dipping."

"Only one problem," she said. "You've still got your clothes on."

"Maybe you can rip them off for me."

"Or maybe you'll struggle out of them trying to catch up to me." Monica pushed me away and ran towards the path. I started taking off my clothes as I ran after her. It wasn't much of a struggle since I was wearing slides that I jumped out of when I started running, my top came off in one smooth movement and I pulled my underwear down along with my shorts. A quick stop as I jumped out of them and then kept going as I started to get my bra off. When I saw the lake up ahead I picked up speed. As I passed Monica I tossed my bra in her face and said, "Get those chubby legs moving!"

"I do not have chubby legs!" Monica yelled. I ran into the water and threw my body below the surface before my body registered how cold it was. When I came up I didn't see Monica anywhere and called out her name. Suddenly I felt hands on my feet and I was pulled under. As she rose up past me, Monica pinched my nipples and stuck her tongue out.

When I broke the surface of the water Monica said, "That was for saying my legs are chubby."

"You're right. They're not chubby. In fact, they're so thin I'm surprised they're keeping you up right now."

Monica splashed at me. I splashed back and we chased each other in the water for a while. I finally caught up to her and when she turned around we began to kiss. Her mouth and tongue felt warm against mine and the chill of the water lost its effect on me. Our arms encircled each other and we held on tight, pressing our bodies together. At times it was hard keeping the kiss going since one of us would slow down our kicking and start to sink. We broke the kiss laughing.

"This looks so much easier in the movies," Monica said.

I smiled. "I think they're usually closer to shore where you can stand."

Monica gave a wry look and with sarcasm dripping from her voice said, "Wow, you're smart."

"One of us has to be."

Monica splashed me again as we moved to where we could stand. As we resumed the kiss Monica's hands slid down my back and gripped the cheeks of my ass, giving gentle squeezes and making me moan in her mouth every time she did it. I did the same and she started moaning too. We started out alternating our moans, and then we began to moan at the same time, which made us laugh.

I said, "We should start our own choir."

Monica threw her head back and laughed. She was so sexy when she did that. When Monica laughed it was like she did it with her whole body and soul. As she stopped, her head came back to face mine and there was lust in her eyes.

"It's time for a solo performance," Monica said, just before she leaned down and started licking the skin on my right breast. Slowly she moved in towards the areola, rubbing her nose against it at first, teasing me to the point of begging. Finally she began licking the nipple, making me gasp. While she did this, Monica's hands slid over my belly where they moved in slow little circles, making their way down to my mound. Her fingers slid between my legs and started rubbing back and forth as her lips began sucking hard on my nipple. I ran one hand along Monica's back as the other ran through her curly auburn hair, sometimes twirling one of her ringlets on a finger. This might have inspired her, because one of Monica's fingers slid further between my lips until it came to my hole, curled and pressed up inside of me. I let out the oddest sound, something that I can best describe as a stuttered moan with a little bit of gurgle in there for good measure. It didn't seem to break Monica's concentration, she moved to the other nipple and started licking while her finger slowly moved in and out of me. The licking turned to sucking and she slowly picked up the pace. I spread my legs wider, which brought us both lower into the water.

"As much...as I'm enjoying this," I managed to say, "I think we should take this to the shore before we drown."

Monica separated her lips from my nipple and looked up at me. "You've got no sense of priorities."

We laughed and I chased her out of the water. When she stopped and turned, I grabbed her waist and brought us both down on the grass. There was a little scrambling around, and some tickling, but when it was over I was lying on my back and Monica straddled my hips. Her hands disappeared behind her and suddenly I felt where they went.

"Now, where was I?" she said.

"Uh, right about there," I groaned.

Monica's fingers slid up and down my lower lips and I let out a few gasps until she moved up to my clit. That's when my mouth dropped open and I let out a sigh. Her fingers danced and brought me to the edge and back down again. The look on Monica's face told me she enjoyed being in control of my pleasure. She brought her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes as she sucked my honey. Then she leaned down and kissed me, sharing the taste of her work. When the kiss ended she held her face in front of mine and looked deep into my eyes.

"Do you want it?" she said.

I didn't have to ask what she meant. "Yes."

Monica's fingers touched my face. "From anyone?"

"I can get it from anyone," I said. "But it wouldn't feel the same as when I get it from you."

Monica leaned down and started kissing my neck. I let out a low moan, encouraging her. She licked up and down, causing me to close my eyes and shudder. Her tongue moved to my throat and licked up to my chin and back down again. I felt kisses moving straight down my chest, past my breasts and over my belly button, until they stopped just above my mound. I spread my legs and gave her access to my most private area, a physical sign of my trust in her. Monica's fingers lightly traced the folds of my flower, and my breathing pattern changed involuntarily. The moment her tongue touched my clit I felt a warmth that comforted my very soul. Monica licked my button as her fingers continued to play. I opened my eyes and looked around at the green of the trees and the blue of the sky. I felt the breeze on my body and the grass on my back. There was life all around me. Monica slid a finger inside me and started pumping it slowly, and I felt that spiraling buildup of pleasure. I heard birds chirping and felt the warmth of the setting sun. Monica added another finger as she began to suck on my clit. My eyes looked into the sky above and it seemed like I was falling into it. The speed of Monica's fingers increased as she alternated between licking and sucking. I felt the muscles in my legs start to tense up and my back arched as I let out several loud moans. Monica struggled to keep her place as my body moved with the physical sensations that overtook me. I screamed. Suddenly I shut my eyes and closed off the world. My breathing stopped. I couldn't hear anything. I was immersed in pleasure.

I felt pressure on top of me and opened my eyes. Monica was lying on top of me. "Was that special?" she asked.

"More than you'll ever know." 

We kissed with passion and need and lust. My fingers went between her legs and found her clit. I started rubbing it and felt Monica moan in my mouth. Her hand covered my left breast and squeezed. I kept fingering her clit, moving up and down lightly. We kept the kiss going, our tongues alternating between fierce dueling and slow tenderness. My finger felt her wetness, lubricating my action and giving me confidence in my abilities. I pressed down on her clit, rubbed some more, tapped it several times, rubbed some more, and started the whole cycle over again. I knew she was on the edge when her body tensed. I pinched her clit between my fingers and Monica made a noise. I couldn't tell if it was pleasure or frustration. I increased the speed of my fingers and suddenly Monica's body pressed hard against mine. Her mouth came away from the kiss and she let out a loud moan just before she slumped against me.




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 01



As we lay there, spent from our lovemaking, Monica looked over at me and said, "This is going to be perfect." 

I couldn't have agreed with her more. There was a surprise I had for Monica, and I'd been waiting for the right moment to spring it on her. Actually I'd been procrastinating, unsure if it was too soon and too much all at once. But up there, in that setting, seemed like a perfect time.

*

It was around four in the morning when I got back to my building. Monica was still on my mind, but it didn't hurt as much as it did when I ran out hours earlier. The little white pill had done its job. I would need more of them, and I had a feeling Renee would give me what I needed. The only question was what she wanted in return.

I turned to walk up the front steps of my building when I heard his voice.

"Hello my little homo niglet."

It was Ronald, a Nazi skinhead who lived in the building. He stood six feet tall and looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Ronald was leaning against the railing on the stairs, which is where he usually spent time when he wasn't out doing whatever Nazi skinheads do. Next to him was Tim, Ronald's short and stocky sidekick. I kept walking towards the door and tried to ignore their taunting. 

"What? No smart-assed comeback from the monkey dyke?" Tim said.

"She's not so brave when her girlfriend's not around." I felt the sorrow starting to rise from the pit of my stomach when he brought up Monica.

Tim smiled. "Yeah, where is that cute piece of ass anyway?"

I was just passing in front of Ronald when he gave his response. "Where she belongs, six feet under ground."

I stopped and stared at him. He held my gaze as the corners of his mouth rose into a smile. Anger raced past sorrow as I balled up my fist and hit Ronald in the chest. His smile dropped and he looked down at where I'd hit him and put his hand over the spot. He looked back up at me. "Ouch." 

He started laughing and Tim laughed along with him. Ronald scared me, but Tim just made me angry beyond words. He had this baby face that made me think about some mother somewhere who loved this guy. I just turned and went inside.

I managed to calm myself by the time I got upstairs. The little white pill was still having an effect on me, and the rush of emotion during my confrontation with Ronald seemed to increase it. I walked into my place and went straight for the stereo. At first I was going to put on one of my CD's, maybe some Portishead or Faithless, but then I looked at the collection of records I'd inherited from my father. 

Soon the funky sounds of Parliament filled the room. My dad had been a studio musician, and one of the many things he bestowed on me was an appreciation for great music. I became lost in the song, the familiar beats soothing my muscles and the singing speaking to me like a good friend. My body swayed and moved slowly to the sounds of "All Your Goodies Are Gone", wishing I could live up to the singers' refusal to be blue. As powerful as music can be, sometimes things are easier sung than done.

As I started to twirl I noticed the light on the answering machine was blinking. I danced over to the machine and dipped myself as my finger hit the button. Baked Bob's voice spoke over the music and I went over to the couch and plopped down.

"Hey Keish. Listen, I think I gave you some bad advice before. I really don't think you should go see that Renee chick, she can be trouble sometimes. I don't know what the hell I was thinking sending you to her. I mean, you wanted some stuff and I didn't have any...by the way I finally got to smoke cause Leslie took off. She told me I was acting weird. Fucking woman's insane and she calls me weird, go figure. Anyway, once I got my head straight I remembered that I sent you Renee's way, and trust me that wasn't cool on my part. Just give me a call and I'll hook you up. I'm guessing you want to get your mind off of Monica for a while and that's cool, I can understand that. Later."

The very second the message ended, the phone rang. It scared the shit out of me and I jumped back. I was almost afraid to pick it up. Finally I did. 

"Keisha?"

I sighed. "What is it Andy? It's late."

"I need to talk to you about before. I had a vision," he said. "It happened today, at the funeral, right when you were standing over Monica's coffin. I saw you in a hallway, or maybe in a house, walking up some stairs with a girl who had blonde hair. I couldn't make out much about her, but I could tell that you cared about her a lot. All of a sudden she was shot. And then you were kneeling, holding her body and crying, telling her you loved her." Andy paused for breath, his words just spilling out of him all at once. I sat there stunned at what he had told me.

"Andy...what...what the fuck?"

He paused for a moment and said, "I think what happened with Monica...it's going to happen to you again."

I slammed the phone down. Suddenly I wasn't so relaxed anymore. I got up and started pacing, which is what I do when I get nervous. My eyes caught the picture of Monica and me at the cabin. I felt pressure in my chest, almost like the sorrow in my heart was going to crush my insides. The thought of going through all this again was unbearable. 

That went on for about ten minutes. But then I stopped and looked at the picture of my dad, which reminded me of what I believed – that our destinies are not so predetermined that someone else can predict them. I sat down and my nerves eased up, my mind calmed down and my body started to relax again. No, Andy was wrong. Maybe he gets visions, maybe he can see one possible future, but that doesn't mean it's definitely what's going to happen. Fuck that. And fuck Andy too. I'm sure his powers are not as sharp as he makes them out to be.

With that thought I looked at the answering machine and realized something. Bob wanted to talk to me really bad, but all he could do was leave a message, because he didn't know what time I'd be home. Yet it was four in the morning, and Andy just happened to call five minutes after I walked through the door?

Fuck.

*

Coming next in Part 2- Baked Bob to the rescue! (You can shake your head now)



A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 02



A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad

Part 2 – Baked Bob To The Rescue!

(F/F, oral, anal, exhibitionism, jewelry, drugs, tattoos, piercings, food, bad accents)

DISCLAIMER – This is a fictional story to be read and enjoyed. If you can't read, stop reading. If you can't enjoy, stop reading. If you don't like any of the story codes mentioned above, stop reading. If you can't stop, it's not my problem.

* * *

I lost my job three months later. By that time I didn't care, which was probably a good percentage of why I got fired. I would show up late, blow deadlines like they were suggestions, and get belligerent with my bosses. Oddly, none of that was enough to fire me. The combination of screwing up a major project and my co-workers noticing that I seemed 'medicated' earned me a boot out the door. The happy pills did a great job of keeping my mind off of Monica. Unfortunately they kept my mind off of everything else as well.

No one at work had any sympathy for me about the death of my lover. It wasn't because they were callous; fact is they didn't even know Monica had ever existed in my life. When I got the job I had a strong sense that coming out at work would impede my chances of rising up in the company. Monica said I was putting my ambition ahead of my self-confidence. My response was that I was working in a very competitive field, where anything can be used against you and even your best friend would sell you out. But now the fact that I didn't come out was working against me. Maybe if they knew what I was going through, what I'd lost, company management and my co-workers might have given me another chance. Maybe. I wasn't really worried though. For now, I could get any job and still be okay. The rent on the apartment was cheap enough, since Monica and I had been trying to save up for a house. Now all I had to save up for was my next stash of happy pills. Life had become so simple.

Baked Bob sent me to this grief therapy group he found on the Internet. I sat there in a circle with ten other people who'd lost someone, all of them still grieving. One woman had lost her husband over seven years ago. Seven years and she still couldn't let go. It drove me crazy listening to her drone on about how much she loved and still missed her husband. I felt a vicious anger towards her as well, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on why. The rest of the people there weren't in much better shape. They all cried on and on about what they were missing. When it was my turn I had a hard time talking. The seven-year woman told me to let it all out because it feels good to talk to someone about it. That made me even more angry, I felt like she wanted to hear my sorrow so she could feed off of it, like she fed off of her own pain. When the meeting was over everyone told me they hoped I'd come back next week. I couldn't imagine why. I went there to find an answer to my pain and all I found were people wallowing in it.

I spent my nights hanging out at Renee's, partying and enjoying carnal pleasures, but during the day I had nothing to do but sit around the apartment. It wasn't hard as long as I had my pills. They took the pain away, or kept it from getting too bad when I had what I'd dubbed a "memory fit". Thinking about Monica and the times we'd spent together, the laughing and joking, the disagreements, the experiences and traveling we'd shared, the problems we encountered living together, the sex, the things we learned from each other, the loud screaming arguments and the quiet, tender moments we spent cuddling. Sometimes I thought about what the future would have held for us. The worst was those moments when I realized how permanent the situation was. I would never hear her laugh again, or see her smile, her pout, or her funny face that she used whenever I was sad. Moments like those were just devastating.

It was during one of those particular moments when I decided to try and watch a movie to keep my mind off of it. The pill I had just taken wasn't strong enough to keep my sadness at bay. I wasn't sure what a second one would do, and I wasn't looking to find out while I was alone in my apartment with no one around to call for help. So I decided to use a movie to transport my thoughts elsewhere. Looking through the DVD's I came upon an unmarked case, and suddenly felt dread slither through my body as I remembered what it was. But I had to watch it. There was no way I wasn't going to watch it. I put it in the player and paused for a moment. I reached for the pill bottle, stopped myself and hit the play button.

The screen went from black to showing our bedroom. There I was, lying naked on the bed with Portisehead playing in the background. Then the picture shook like there was an earthquake.

"You sure you know how to operate that thing?" I asked, followed by a laugh.

"Shut up!" Monica said from behind the camera. "I just want to make sure I have the right angle."

"Do I get a close-up?" I asked in a mockingly hopeful tone.

"Only if we want to break the lens."

I grabbed a small pillow and threw it to the left of the camera. Monica shouted, "Hey!" and ran into the picture, herself naked, and jumped on top of me. We smiled at each other for a moment and suddenly started kissing, small, passionate kisses building up to a full open-mouthed kiss. My hands ran up and down her backside as our bodies pressed together and our legs moved about like we were doing some slow dance without a floor. Occasionally our mouths would pull apart but our tongues were still playing with each other. Then Monica pulled away and traced her tongue along my jaw line. She wrapped her lips around my chin and let them slide away as she pulled back, straddling my stomach as she sat up. Monica looked down into my eyes as her arms stretched out, letting her fingertips play on my nipples. I remembered that moment, staring up at the serious look on her face and wondering what she was thinking. I was about to ask when she leaned down and took my right nipple in her mouth. My eyes rolled back and I moaned, forever losing the opportunity. Monica moved over to tongue my left nipple as she rolled the right one between her thumb and index finger. I put a hand on her head as she licked and sucked on my nipple, her fingers lightly tracing the underside of my breast. I loved that sensation. She stopped what she was doing and crawled up me until her face was over mine. I leaned up and we started kissing again, our arms wrapped around each other and our breasts pressing against one another.

Monica brought her leg between mine and started pressing it against my sex. I moaned and broke the kiss long enough to whisper her name. "I love you," she returned and we kissed again. My hands glided slowly down her back and came to rest on the globes of her ass. I squeezed softly a few times and then pulled them apart. Monica made a noise I couldn't decipher as I ran my fingers up and down her crack, driving her to grind her leg harder against me. When my finger found her rosebud I toyed with it a little, running my finger along the small folds of skin around the outer rim. She moaned and broke the kiss. I took the opportunity to grab her and roll us over so I was on top. I started licking her shoulders, which was her odd little sensitive spot, and made my way down to her breasts. My tongue ran around the area underneath the right one, slowly moving back and forth like the swinging of a pendulum, arching its way upwards until I reached her areola. It was bright pink against her pale skin. My tongue stiffened and I used the tip to trace the outer rim all the way around several times. Then I slid the entire face of my tongue over it slowly, stopped to watch the reaction on her face and did it again. After the last lick I placed her nipple between my lips and started sucking. Inside my mouth my tongue was alternately flicking over the tip and pressing down on it. Monica's mouth dropped open and she emitted a low gurgling sound. After a minute of this I let her nipple slide out between my lips. I brought my lips close to her ear and whispered, "Did you like that?"

"Yesssss," she breathed.

"Good," I said. "Because after I'm done, I'm going to do the same thing to your asshole."

Monica let out a gasp. I turned around and straddled her stomach so I was facing her feet, then leaned forward and grabbed her foot so I could suck on her toes. My other hand reached down to Monica's fur and played with the hair for a moment before delving further between her legs. The area around her clit was dry, but when I got to her hole and past it I felt an ocean. My fingers scooped up some of her honey and spread it around her clit. Monica reached to the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube, spread it on her finger and ran it up and down my ass. 

Sitting on the couch and watching all this unfold on the screen, I started rubbing my left nipple through my T-shirt. For a moment I stopped and thought I shouldn't be doing this...right before I pulled the shirt off and rubbed and pinched my bare nipple. Maybe this would be a way for me to come to terms with it. Feel less pain. Start moving on. Bullshit myself.

We were moaning on screen. Monica's finger had made its way up my ass and she was pumping it in and out. I had moved on to her other foot, sucking and licking her toes while my fingers worked magic on her folds. My present day folds wanted some attention and my hand found its way inside my pajama pants and started working some magic of their own. I put my feet up on the coffee table and spread my legs for easy access. Sometimes just the act of spreading my legs caused a sexual reaction in me, and tonight was no different. On the screen Monica was using her other hand to pinch and pull at her nipple, and I found myself mimicking her movements.

Suddenly Monica let out a loud cry as she came. I brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked her juices. Monica lay completely spent, her finger still stuck in my ass while my fingers were stuck in my mouth. Looking at it from the couch made me laugh. Then on-screen me hopped off Monica and we cuddled. All alone on the couch me grabbed the remote and fast-forwarded until the image changed. Monica had taken the camera off the tripod and given it to me so I could record her going down on me from my point-of-view. I hit pause and ran to the bedroom. In the closet sat a large box full of the sex toys Monica and I had collected over the years. There were vaginal and anal beads, various dildos and vibrators, a blindfold and handcuffs, a small, soft whip, nipple clamps, and a feather. I settled on a smooth, red vibrator and ran back to the living room. 

I took off my pants, got into my previous position and hit play on the remote. The image was looking down my body to Monica's head between my legs. In reality you couldn't see anything of what was going on other than her head moving and hearing my moans and words of encouragement. But it was good enough for what I was looking to do. I started the vibrator and rubbed it against my pussy, using the juices I'd already created on the surface. Then I moved it around trying to mimic Monica's effect on the on-screen me to the on the couch me. I slid the whole thing up and down my folds when her head moved up and down, centered the tip on my clit when her head was still, and slid it inside when I remembered she stuck her tongue into me.

We were sliding up and down my folds when I moaned, "Uhhhh, uhhhhh, slower." I remembered she started fingering my ass. I brought my left hand under my leg, slid my finger along my pussy to get it lubricated, and brought it to my rosebud. I toyed with the outer rim, getting it relaxed until I started pressing on the hole. After getting it lubricated in my juices again, I was able to push it in to the second knuckle and start pumping in and out. I kept my eyes glued to the screen, imagining it was Monica causing all my current pleasure. A series of high-pitched moans came out of me from the television, so I concentrated on my clit until I started coming. My moans couldn't compete with the ones on screen, but I managed to orgasm just behind the videotaped one. Monica crawled up my body and the camera shook for a moment. Suddenly it dropped and there was an incredible view of my hip.

The sound of kissing came from the television and my breathless words. "I love you, Mon."

"I love you too."

"You're the best fucking thing that's ever happened to me."

"I know," she said, followed by infectious giggling by both of us. We continued to whisper sweet nothings to each other while the camera recorded my hip.

I turned off the vibrator and sat there, naked, my legs still spread with my feet on the coffee table and my finger in my ass. Suddenly I started crying. The vibrator hit the floor. I found something else I'd never share with Monica again. 

Later I got a call from Baked Bob. He said he wanted to talk to me about something but wouldn't be specific until we met face to face. This is classic Baked Bob mentality. Bob hated telling people any of his so called 'brilliant ideas' over the phone because he wanted to see the reaction on their faces when he said it. The next time we had plans was three days away when he was performing with his band. Bob played guitar, Asian Andy played bass, our friend Trilly sang and some guy named Steve played the drums. They called themselves Carcass Crowd Surfers.

Even thought I was intrigued I managed to go three days without running to Bob's store, throwing him down on the counter and demanding he spill his guts. It was hardly a test of will, between my happy pills and hanging out over at Renee's I had my mind other places. I swallowed a pill before I left the apartment that night, and it was working nicely by the time I got downstairs. This helped me blow off the taunting comments from Ronald and Tim as I passed by them, and kept me from shooting my ride after she picked me up. The whole way there she kept asking about was how I was doing since Monica died. I knew she meant well and was trying to be a friend, but every question was like salt on an open wound.

The band was playing at a small underground club called The Stoned Tongue. It was the kind of place that looked like it was decorated on fifty bucks, and most of us felt more comfortable there than in some of the glitzy high priced clubs around. The walls were covered with psychedelic art and movie posters and the lighting in the room was subtle, mostly in splashes of red, blue, green and the occasional black light. There were couches and cushioned chairs, a bar along the right wall and a large stage in back. But the most impressive part was the black floor that anyone could write on. All you needed to do was ask for a marker at the bar. Some people drew artwork that was truly impressive and others drew things that struggled to be called 'work' much less 'art'. When I walked in my eyes intentionally avoided the floor. Near the doorway there was a big heart with the words "Monica and Keisha forever". Forever was much shorter than we thought.

There was a table near the bar selling band T-shirts and the one CD the Surfers had recorded in Trilly's basement. I was the one who came up with the album title. It's called 'Sip Hard Fish', and yeah, I was drunk at the time. Bob was sitting behind the table. When he saw me he got up and came over.

"You find a new job yet?" he asked. I shook my head. "Are you looking?"

"Dammit Bob..." I started, but he held up his hands.

"I just wanted to know the situation," Bob said. A smile came across his face and I prepared myself. "I have an offer for you. Come to work for me at the store."

"Are you not high again?"

"I'm quite fine actually, thanks."

"Do you know what I was doing at my last job? How much I was making?"

Bob's mouth twisted a little. "Was is the operative word there. Nowadays you're just hanging out with Renee."

For a second I wondered if Bob was going psychic on me too. "How the fuck do you know that?" I asked. A guilty look came across Bob's face and I felt anger welling up inside of me as I realized what he did. "Your buddy?"

Bob had an old high school friend who took the opposite direction in life. He became a cop. "I just asked him to keep an eye on you every once in a while."

"Well you can tell him to stop. I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm just worried about you."

"I don't need a mother either. I can handle myself just fine."

Bob nodded, even though the look on his face said he didn't believe me. "So what about the job offer?"

I thought for a moment. There'd been no response to the jobs I'd applied for. Working at Bob's store would be easy and I already got along with the boss. Besides, for the condition I was in, working there would be paradise. Literally.

"Okay," I said to him. "When do I start?"

Bob owns a place called Baked Bob's Paradise. It's a combination movie rental, liquor and convenience store, since he got tired of having to drive all around town to get everything he wanted whenever he got high (Bob also repaired electronics like VCR's, which scared me). Working at Baked Bob's Paradise was a paradise in itself. I'd come in at nine-thirty, and the first order of business for the day was to sit in Bob's office and have a smoke. We would discuss which movies to play on the monitors throughout the store, then open at ten and sit behind the counter watching movies and helping the occasional customer. Lunch was at one-thirty, after which we'd smoke again and discuss afternoon movie options. Bob was easy to pick movies with because he liked all types of films, from art house to action, foreign films to horror, dramas and even the occasional romance film.

At every customer service job I've ever worked there was always at least one oddball customer, and at Baked Bob's there was Jiminy Cricket. He was an older man, maybe in his mid-fifties, with a tall, bulky body and thinning white hair he kept at a crew cut's length. You could tell from his eyes and face that he was a lifetime drinker. We dubbed him Jiminy Cricket because in under a minute he would come in, quickly grab a movie from the porno section without even looking at the title, and check out. He moved like he was in a rush to get to a bathroom and it was hard not to laugh. Bob and I and the people who worked the night shift all tried to make conversation with him to no avail. One day as I was helping him I asked, "Are you afraid your wife is going to catch you renting pornos?"

He stared at me like a kid who just found out Santa Claus wasn't real. I swallowed and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

He grabbed his movie and bumped into Asian Andy as he rushed out the door. I shook my head and said, "What the hell is up with that guy?"

Andy walked up to the counter and said, "If you really want to know..."

"No," I said sternly. "Not like that."

We quietly stared at each other for a moment. Then Andy said, "I haven't seen you around in a while. Wanted to find out what you're up to."

I snorted. "What, you don't already know?" I turned around and started doing busy work behind the counter.

"It doesn't work like that," he said. "I'm just worried about you."

"Everybody's so worried about me and yet no one seems to believe it when I say I'm okay."

"They're worried about what's happened already. I'm the only one that knows something worse is coming." He paused. "And I feel it's going to happen soon."

I spun around to face him. "Listen, even if I believed in your...powers, I don't know any blondes, and I don't plan to meet any. So thank you for your concern, but I think you got it wrong this time."

Andy stared at me. Then he gave a nod and said, "Be careful."

The next week Bob was out of town on what he called business. Whether this had to do with videos, chips, Slushies or drugs I had no idea. But for five days I was in the store by myself, and for some reason I watched all sad romance films where someone died. 'Love Story', some movie with Sidney Poitier in France, 'Here on Earth' and a bunch of others, and I cried through each and every one of them. Of course, it looks pretty strange when you go to rent a movie and the checkout person behind the counter is in a full out bawl. Customers would ask what was wrong and get an earful.




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 02



"Are you okay?" one woman asked.

I was practically blubbering at this point. "No. She died and he didn't get a chance to tell her he loved her."

"Who?"

I pointed to the screen. The woman looked at it and back at me. "I know. It's a sad movie. But luckily it's just a movie."

My anger turned on like a switch. "Just a movie! That kind of shit happens for real! What, no one dies in your little world? Everyone just goes on their merry little way without losing anyone? This is life, dammit! Death is real." I looked her up and down. "Wise up lady, you don't look all that young yourself."

Needless to say Bob lost some customers that week. And I think he knew better than to leave me on my own after that.

A few days later I was leaving the store after my shift when Bob said, "You going to Renee's?"

I turned. "You're buddy still following me?"

"No. That's why I'm asking. I don't think you should be spending time with her."

"Why? You jealous?"

"Concerned. You've been out of it lately, and don't think I haven't noticed you popping those pills. I think Renee's taking you in a bad direction."

I snorted. "You just don't like her because she's sophisticated."

"I don't like her because she's an upper class snob. She brags about how she used to be an interior designer with an exclusive client list. Truth is she worked for some high-end firm and stole a few of their clients when she left to open up her own shop. Her business failed because she wasn't as good at designing as she was at talking herself up at parties. I don't know how she got a connection into the drug trade, but I know she did it because it kept her in with the rich crowd. She's as fake as that trendy accent I hear she wasn't born with."

It was true, I had noticed Renee's accent falter occasionally. But I was too angry to give Bob any credit. "If you don't like her so much why did you send me to her?"

That seemed to hit Bob hard because he started shoving videos back into the cart. When he finally looked up at me I saw something between anger, guilt and fear in his eyes. "I just...I figured she was into women and...I knew you were hurting over Monica and trying to get your mind off of it...I don't fucking know."

"Were you trying to set me up?"

Bob growled. "I was so wrapped up in that Leslie chick and I hadn't smoked all day. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking." With that Bob rolled the cart to start returning videos. 

I stood there trying to figure out what Baked Bob's motivations were. Not that they ever made sense in the first place. Monica always said to keep your distance from people like him because you never know what could happen. But it seemed like Bob was hiding something and I couldn't understand why he'd do that. Bob's strange but he's always been very up front, and I could tell that he was holding back something. I decided not to push it, maybe Bob would tell me when he was ready.

One thing I certainly wouldn't be telling Bob was what I was doing at Renee's lately. When I got to her place there was a catering truck out front. Inside I walked past workers moving carts of food and tables into position. I went into a small room off the main hall and found Duscha snorting a line from a small square piece of glass.

"You're late," she said. "They're waiting for us in the serving room."

I started taking off my clothes. Duscha snorted another line and sat back on the couch. "Why do you keep that stupid little job?" she asked.

"Because I need money for rent and food."

Duscha smiled. "If you took Renee's offer you wouldn't need to pay for rent and food."

Suddenly I had the idea that her being in the room when I arrived wasn't a coincidence. Lately, Renee had been pressuring me to live in the house full time like Zhi and Duscha. I had consistently refused.

"I don't need Renee's money. Or her place."

Duscha got up and walked over to me as I put on a robe. "Instead you keep your stupid little job and your stupid little apartment and eat food out of can." Duscha cracked open the door and nodded at the people working in the hall. "Look at them. They are hired help. You wish to be like them for the rest of your life?"

I pushed the door shut. "What about you? I thought you wanted to be a model. That's not work?" I asked.

Duscha wiped her nose. "Fuck modeling. What I wanted was to live nice and not have to worry about being poor." Duscha walked back towards the table, turned and held up her hands. "Look where I live right now. Look what I'm doing. I am not some stupid checkout girl at market."

Anger grew in me like a slap in the face. "Not to burst your bubble, but despite the surroundings, you're still the hired help."

Like on cue Renee opened the door wide and clapped twice, like she was calling a dog. "Chef Janis is waiting. Both of you get in there, now."

I shot Duscha a smile and a wink.

"Showtime," I said.

When we arrived in the serving room there was a man in a chef outfit standing next to a large silver box on wheels. Two tables stood side by side with long cushions on them. Duscha and I took off our robes and lay down on the tables. The chef rolled the metal box between us and opened it. He put on a pair of latex gloves and started putting pieces of sushi on our bodies. I remembered seeing something about this on television, and from what I remember they put large leaves on the woman's nipples and pubic area. But since this was a Renee party, there was no covering up. He placed the raw pieces on my skin and I gasped at the cold temperature of them.

The chef gave me a sympathetic look. "Sorry," he said.

I let out a breath. "It's okay, just the price of fame and exhibitionism."

He laughed and finished placing sushi on my body before doing the same to Duscha. She made a snotty remark about the cold food on her skin. I almost sat up to yell at her before I remembered I had to stay still. He then put pieces of ginger between the toes of my left foot and balls of wasabi between the toes of my right. When the chef left we were in the room by ourselves. I hate uncomfortable silences, but couldn't think of anything I wanted to say to her. Finally Duscha said, "You know, this is kind of like modeling."

There wasn't much conviction in her voice. I turned my head to look at her. "Duscha, you're being used as a serving tray for food."

"So are you!" she yelled.

"Yeah, but I'm not the one fooling myself about why I'm doing it or what getting out of it." Which was true, and in my case I was getting plenty out of it. Aside from a supply of pills to help me get over Monica, this kind of thing is the greatest turn on of all for me. I love being nude. My dad used to tell me one of the most frustrating things when I was a child was that I always kept taking off my clothes and would run around naked. On more than a few occasions I embarrassed him when guests would come over. One of the first things I did when I got my drivers license was to go to a nude beach, and when I was in college I made some extra money by signing up to be a nude model for art classes. From the day I started living in my own place I'd walk around the apartment nude, usually with the blinds open, just for fun. 

I remembered the cabin. It felt so wild that first day, walking outside with nothing on. My bare feet touching bare Mother Earth. Walking around the trees and through the brush, feeling open air and the sun on parts of my skin that are normally never exposed to them. The breeze made my nipples hard and tickled my pubic hair. I found myself not straying too far at first. It was nervousness about being caught, and I was ready to run back at a moments notice. Then Monica walked out of the cabin. Her hair flowing around her shoulders, her nude body like a Greek statue come to life. It was like time stopped and all I could see was her walking towards me.

My memory was interrupted by the doors to the serving room swinging open in a flourish. Renee stood there with twenty or so people behind her, most of them with cocktails in hand.

"Please, enjoy the finger food."

The people walked in and gawked at us. I didn't know if they were Renee's friends or customers, but from what Bob said I guessed most were both. There were a few men, but most of Renee's party guests tended to be women. I spotted the two lesbian couples and three heterosexual couples who regularly showed up, and noticed a new lesbian couple as well. The rest were individual women, some sporting wedding rings, who were probably bi-sexual, bi-curious, or straight women who were looking to have a more sophisticated 'Girls Gone Wild' experience.

A woman took a piece of sushi off my nipple, brushing her fingers over it as she did. She ate the piece, and when she was finished chewing she leaned down and sucked on my bare nipple. The man behind her bit his lip as he watched. Zhi showed up next to him, she was naked and holding a serving tray. He stared at her body for a moment, then took a piece of sushi and ate it as he watched his companion work on me. The rules at Renee's parties were simple but strict- the women could do whatever they wanted, the men could only watch. Any man who touched us would be banished permanently.

A redheaded woman, who was one half of the new lesbian couple, took a piece of sushi off my other nipple with her mouth. Her partner, sporting a butch haircut with blonde streaks and a pair of black-rimmed glasses, leaned down and sucked on my nipple while her partner chewed and watched. The filthy rich do have strange ways of doing things. Monica and I once discussed bringing another girl to our bed, but we were planning on using a personal ad. This whole situation seemed so surreal. People were eating off of me while others stood around talking like they were at any normal cocktail party.

Monica kept popping into my mind all night. I had run out of pills earlier in the day and needed to get more. That would be the first thing on my agenda when I was finished being an interactive utensil. I felt tongues and lips all over my body and occasionally between my toes. When I started working the parties it was hard for me to get turned on while all these people were watching, but now that I've become accustomed to the voyeurism my body is responding to the stimulation. 

When cocktail hour was over it was time to go upstairs. Zhi, Duscha and I would each take a bedroom. The guests could stay downstairs and enjoy drinks or come upstairs and go from room to room, enjoying whatever fun they wanted. Before I went to my room I needed to find Renee and get more pills. She wasn't mingling with the guests like she normally does, so I tried the office she keeps towards the back of the house. There were voices, including Renee's, coming from the room. The door was ajar and I pushed it open slowly. There were three men in the room. Two of them were big and beefy and wore threatening looks on their faces, or maybe that was just how they normally looked. They stood off to the side while the third man was talking to Renee.

"...up short this month. That's the third time. Duscha told me you said it's slow. I wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth."

Renee smiled at him. "Tyler, you're way to serious luv. This is the way business works, it's not all simple arithmetic. Sometim-..."

"Cut the crap!" he said. "If I want half assed excuses I'll go back to dealing street junkies. Your rich friends can pay up front, that was the whole idea."

Renee caught sight of me in the doorway and said, "What do you need Keisha?"

She seemed relieved by the interruption. Tyler turned when Renee addressed me. He was tall and good looking, with a boyish face and perfectly styled hair. Those features were at odds with his eyes, which were narrow and focused and created a sinister quality about him. As he smiled at me, that sinister quality softened. Slightly.

"New girl?" he asked Renee as his eyes stayed on me.

I looked at Renee to avoid his gaze. "Um, I need some more pills."

Renee walked around the desk, took out a bottle and brought it to me. "You should get to your room," she said. As I walked out I noticed Tyler was still staring at me.

Walking down the hallway, my hands were shaking as I popped a pill. I almost took a second one, but decided against it. There was work to be done.

I arrived in my room and found a couple – Redhead and Butch Cut. I didn't ask their names because it wasn't allowed. Renee wanted to ensure her guests' privacy.

Redhead gave me a sheepish smile and said, "We weren't sure we were in the right place." 

"Sorry. You mind if I take a quick shower?" I shrugged. "The sushi and stuff."

Redhead nodded. Each bedroom had it's own bathroom, and as I walked towards it Butch Cut said, "Don't forget the wasabi between your toes." I smiled at her and she smiled back. They seemed like a sweet couple. Even through the little white pill's magic I was reminded of Monica and I.

For a guest bathroom the shower was huge. I remembered seeing one like it at an expensive store and dreaming of being able to own one. The water came from a spout directly overhead and it had enough room to do gymnastics in there. Knowing Renee, the fact that the sides and door were all clear glass was no accident. I had just started to wash myself when the bathroom door opened. Redhead and Butch Cut stepped in. They were naked.

Butch Cut gave a knowing smile. "We were wondering if you wanted some help in there."

I smiled and opened the shower door and they stepped in. Butch Cut stood in front of me. She took the washcloth from my hand and lathered it up while Redhead pressed herself against my back and ran her hands over me. She pushed my hair aside and licked along my ear. Butch Cut started running the washcloth over my breasts, her pace slow but her hands firm and strong. Redhead bit my earlobe as one of her hands slid back and forth over my stomach. She moved her hand away as Butch Cut moved the washcloth down my stomach, stopping to wipe out my belly button and causing me to giggle. She moved further down until she was running the cloth over my bush, still keeping a slow pace while pressing against my mons. Then she moved away, cruising down my left leg as she kneeled down. I let out a surprised gasp and gave her a disappointed look.

Redhead put her lips to my ear. "Don't worry," she said as her hands slid over my breasts and started tweaking my nipples. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as she licked my ear and said, "She always finishes what she starts."

I felt Butch Cut wash my feet and then work her way back up the other leg. She stood in front of me, smiled and said, "Now that I have you all lathered up," then tossed the washcloth over her shoulder, brought her body against mine and kissed me. Redhead slipped a hand between our bodies and slid her fingers up and down my ass crack, whispering "Are you into back here?" in my ear.

I moaned "Mmmm hmmm" so I didn't have to break the kiss. Butch Cut had slipped a hand between my legs and was rubbing my sex with her fingers. I felt Redhead's fingers leave my ass and then heard a pop, followed by the pseudo farting sound that comes when you push air out of a squeeze bottle. Butch Cut broke the kiss and said, "Excuse yourself you nasty bitch." Redhead kept squeezing and it kept happening. We started laughing and it became so contagious that we had to lean against each other as we all doubled over. Finally we regained our composure and resumed our positions. Redhead had used some liquid soap to lube up her finger and started teasing my anus while Butch Cut resumed kissing me as she slid her finger into my hole and started fucking me. 

All of a sudden the bathroom door opened and two women were standing there. They took in the sight of me in the shower, sandwiched between two women. We looked at them and they looked at us, wide smiles on all of our faces.

"Sorry," one of the women said.

"No problem," Butch Cut said.

In an incredibly seductive voice, Redhead said, "You can stay and watch if you like." It was the kind of voice that made people weak in the knees and caused them to do things they'd never do on their best day. Suddenly I was very jealous of Butch Cut. The two women didn't even look at each other as they both walked in. One sat on the toilet while the other leaned against the door.

We were about to resume when suddenly I realized something was missing. "Get me some of that soap," I said to Redhead.

She broke away to grab the bottle and I held out my left index finger as she covered it. The fart sound happened again and I smiled and said, "Don't bother, there is no excuse for that!" and the three of us started laughing again. The other two laughed as well, but they didn't fully get it since they weren't there earlier. We got back into position, except this time I brought my left hand behind Butch Cut and slid my lubricated finger along her ass and brought my right hand around back so I could diddle Redhead's pussy. This way we were all being stimulated. I believe in fair sex.

Butch Cut resumed fingering me as Redhead gradually slid her finger up my asshole. I had my fingers working on Redhead while Butch Cut's anus relaxed and accepted the tip of my finger. We resumed our tongue kiss while Redhead started sucking on my neck. I had my finger halfway into Butch Cut while I found Redhead's clit and started flicking it and making her moan. I felt their bodies pressing against me as our collective passion started to build. The two of them were pumping in and out of me, oblivious of each other's rhythm but driving me insane anyway. I love the feeling of having two people work on me, something I'd never done before meeting Renee and something I planned to try more of outside this setting. Butch Cut's thumb started working on my clit and I knew it wouldn't be long. I started working harder on Redhead, trying to get her to orgasm with me. I had my finger pumping in and out of Butch Cut, trying not to make it too fast and uncomfortable even though my impeding orgasm was driving me to do it.

Redhead got there before I did, and I felt her shaking against me as she gave a series of yells. With a sudden precision, Butch Cut suddenly turned her finger so it's edge was hitting my clit exactly. She made me cum like she had control over it the whole time. Redhead slumped against me and I slumped against Butch Cut. Suddenly there was applause. We looked over at the women watching us.

"I'd take a bow," I said, "but I think I'd fall down."

Everyone laughed. Redhead stood up and put her hand on Butch Cut's face. She pouted and said, "My honey hasn't cum yet."

In a sudden burst of energy I said, "I think we can fix that." I grabbed the washcloth off the floor and used it to clean the finger I'd had up an ass. Then I kneeled down in front of Butch Cut and put my nose in her fur, sticking out my tongue and making her moan. I brought my hands up and spread her out a little and squirmed my tongue into her lips. She made a long, slow moan and spread her feet to give me some more access. Redhead walked behind Butch Cut and got on her knees as well. I could guess she had spread her ass cheeks and started giving her girl a rim job, because all of a sudden Butch Cut moaned again and said, "Oh yeah, tongues are good."

I kept moving my tongue over her lips and started tasting her honey. She put her hands on my head and ran her fingers through my hair. I alternated between moving my tongue and making it stiff while moving my whole head in and out. There was another moan that didn't sound like Butch Cut. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the other two women. The one that was standing was now sitting in the lap of the one on the toilet, who had her hand up the other woman's skirt.

I slipped a finger into Butch Cut while my tongue concentrated on her clit. She shook most of the time I was licking her and then came so quietly that I didn't know it happened until she pushed my head away and spoke in a strained voice, "That's enough, thank you. Thank you, thank you."




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 02



It felt funny getting out of the shower. Being under the running water for so long my skin tingled from the lack of it. We all went downstairs, where most of the people were mingling. I walked through the crowd naked, enjoying the exhibitionist moment. When I was in a corner of the room I turned and Tyler and his two goons were standing there. His razor sharp gaze made a pass over my body. "You're one hell of a party favor."

The two goons fanned out and I had nowhere to move. The guests were obviously intimidated by Tyler's crew and avoided looking their way. My eyes quickly scanned the room but couldn't find Renee anywhere. Tyler took a step towards me.

"Has Renee been skimming on me?"

"I...wouldn't know. I'm new here. She doesn't share that kind of stuff with me."

Tyler cornered me. His two goons watched out for partygoers as he slithered up to me and got in my face. I was breathing heavy and there was a lump in my throat that I couldn't swallow.

"You know," he said, "supposedly the most painful way to kill someone is setting them on fire. Because you're burning from the outside in, your internal organs are still working the whole time. You live through all the excruciating pain until your nerve endings are destroyed."

My skin felt cold and I realized I was sweating. It must have been all the talk about fire.

Tyler smiled. "Now I only find that particularly helpful if you only want to torture someone. But if you're trying to get information, it's no good, 'cause it's kind of hard to talk when you're burning up. So I started researching. And I found out that in Medieval Times they would hang someone upside down with their legs spread." Tyler moved in close. Not enough to touch me, but right at the point where I could almost feel his presence against my naked flesh. "Then two guys with a saw, a big, long one, would cut their way straight down, crotch to cranium. See, since you're hanging with your head to the floor, all the blood is rushing to your brain and keeping you conscious the whole time. You can feel every bit of pain. And since you're able to scream, you're also able to talk." 

I finally managed to swallow. He smiled again. "Guess my high school teacher was right. History is helpful." 

Tyler backed away. I realized I'd been holding my breath and let it out. "Just keep that in mind," he said, and took out a card and handed it to me. "That's where you can reach me. I'd be most appreciative if you find out anything you think I should know."

The three wise-guy men left and I started breathing regularly again. Suddenly Zhi walked up to me. There was a sympathetic look on her face that eased some of the fear I still felt. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I curled up the card in my hand, since I was naked and couldn't hide it anywhere. "Fine," I said with some shakiness in my voice. "I'm going home."

The next day I went to see Monica.

The flowers on her grave were gone. It looked so bare, just a headstone and a pile of dirt that had started to match the rest of the earth around it with small bits of grass sprouting up. It was like she was settling in for the long haul. A soft breeze blew, and I closed my eyes and breathed in, imagining I could smell her scent again. I touched her headstone and looked at the area where she was laid to rest. An overwhelming urge to hug her came over me, so I lay down on the dirt covering her. My body facing hers now, I turned my face to the side so I could breathe and pressed down, digging my hands into the soil. A whimper escaped my lips. All that separated us now was six feet...six feet and the breath of life.

Later on that day I was working at the video store when Bob came out of his office with a worried look on his face.

"Keisha, I need you do me a favor. A big one."

I pointed a finger at him. "I'm not watching your fucking iguanas again, Bob. Those things need obedience school."

"It's not that. The dammed delivery company screwed up the shipment of new releases. Only way to get it for tomorrow is for me to go down there and pick it up."

"Okay," I said, thinking this seems like a simple problem, and forgetting that with Bob nothing is simple.

"Thing is my cousin Jessica is in town, just for the day, and I'm supposed to meet up with her." Bob looked at his watch. "I'll never make it."

I sighed and held up a hand. "Don't worry, I'll go pick up the shipment."

"I wish you could," Bob said. "But it can only be picked up by the person who it's addressed to, and that's me." 

He stared at me. I caught on and started shaking my head. "No. No way."

"All you have to do is hang out with her for a little while. When I get there you can take off."

"Bob, I am not going to show up there with some shaky-ass story that sounds like bullshit. Hell, I know it's the truth and I still think it sounds like bullshit."

"That's why I already called her to let her know you're coming," Bob said. "I even described you to her so you can find each other. And just so you know, she's wearing a lavender blouse, a black skirt and combat boots. She wears combat boots with everything."

"Why don't you just send her to your apartment for a while?"

Bob's eyebrow arched. "What, so she could see all the pictures of naked women I have on the walls, or the porn collection I'm still trying to organize by fetish? I remember Monica was always impressed by that." Bob frowned and said, "I just don't want her sitting alone in a coffee shop waiting for me."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Okay, I'll do it." I opened my eyes. "But you owe me."

"Sure. Two weeks paid vacation and use of the company car."

I laughed, and suddenly realized it was the first time I'd laughed in a while without the assistance of chemicals. Bob put on his jacket and headed for the door. He stopped and turned around. "Could you do me one favor? Dress up a little?"

"Why?"

"Just because I'm sending a pinch hitter doesn't mean she has to look like one." Bob's eyes looked over my jeans and T-shirt.

I sighed again. "Sure. I'll even put on perfume, okay?"

"Great, thanks."

I went home, took a shower and got out a skirt, a decent top and a pair of calf-length boots. It almost felt strange dressing up after months of working at a video store, where I could wear my pajamas if I wanted to, and spending time over at Renee's, where I didn't have to wear anything at all. I realized I felt good about doing this, getting dressed up to go out for a social occasion. It was something I hadn't done in a long time, not since Monica started going downhill. I was feeling so good that I passed on the thought of popping a pill when I looked at my bag and remembered I had some stash in there. Maybe tonight I could have a good time with just pleasant conversation and good company. But as I walked out the door I realized that how much of a good time I had depended on what kind of person Bob's cousin was. I checked again to make sure I had my pills, just in case.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: At this time we are going to change the point of view to someone else. I really wasn't looking to do that in this story, and even if I was, he was the last character I'd have put in the driver's seat. But the stubborn jerk begged to have his voice heard, and I mean he really begged. When begging didn't work, he resorted to bribery. I didn't give in easily – it took two bottles of Captain Morgan's Private Stock, a quarter of his best green, and DVD copies of 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (Special Edition)' and 'Better Than Chocolate' before I caved in. So no one can ever say I'm too easy.

Hey audience. My name is Bob Callahan, but you can call me Baked Bob. All my friends do. Speaking of which, I have a friend who is in need of some help. She lost someone recently and...well fuck it, you've been reading the story, and you know what's going on. Didn't mean to treat you like an idiot, it's just that there's always one fuckhead who needs a recap. That's why they put those "Previously on..." in front of all your favorite TV shows, like the faithful viewers need a reminder of what they watched a week ago. It's just wasting time that they could use to make more show!

Sorry, I got a little off track there. I do that every once in a while, like when I came up with the idea for how I'm going to save my friend Keisha. This was a few weeks ago, when I'd just finished smoking some green, actually a lot of really good green, and was standing in my kitchen when the idea hit me. It was so brilliant that it blew all the other thoughts out of my head. This caused a major problem, because suddenly I forgot what I was doing in the first place. When I looked down I noticed I was holding a piece of broccoli in my left hand and my shaving razor in my right. What the hell had I been planning to do? Was I going to eat and then shave? Or was I going to shave the broccoli? Maybe I was going to pit them against each other in a battle and see who would win. Fuck it, I'd figure that out later.

I went to my computer and got on the Internet. Cyberspace is the greatest invention ever, next to the compact disc. And DVD's, and bongs. The cool thing about the Internet is that you can find almost anything and have it come to you. When you're stoned this can be a very useful tool, especially when you're doing what I was about to do. Tool. While it was signing on I went to my stereo and put on Tool's Anima. Mood music helps too.

It only took me twenty minutes to find five sites where you can post lesbian personal ads. I did what was needed to sign up on each of them and set about placing an ad. Now to write one. Hmmm. I'd never written a personal ad before, and somehow I felt it needed some sappy, flowing language. I went to my bookshelf to see if I had anything that would help. Henry Miller, Edgar Allen Poe, a biography on Bill Hicks, Walter Mosley, some Vonnegut, a guide to farting, a bunch of High Times issues and a shitload of comic books from Batman to Y:The Last Man. Great, not one thing that would appeal to the kind of woman Keisha would like. Probably not much that would appeal to any woman.

I went and smoked some more to help me think. It only took two hits before I realized I could steal stuff from other personal ads. "Fucking stupid!" I said to myself as I slapped the side of my head. This is what happens when you're a technical person; you're always trying to think of a complicated solution when the simple answer is staring you in the face. I checked some of the other ads and found almost no flowing, romantic language at all. Some sites made people fill in forms that made their traits look like the technical specs to a piece of machinery. Great way to meet somebody you want to get romantic with. 

I finally settled on 'GBF, 29, seeks GF, 18-40, with no issues and no baggage. D&D free. Picture a must. Must be local and must be single. Not looking for couples, swingers, the curious, or men who think they can change me.' Just to translate for you non-personal ad people, GBF stands for 'Gay Black Female' and GF is 'Gay Female'. Or maybe it's 'Girl Friend'. Fuck it. 'D&D' means 'Drug and Disease', and I wanted to find someone who wasn't on drugs so they might help Keish with her problem. Some of the other sites allowed more room so I described her personality - funny, sweet, intelligent, ambitious (not lately, but I skipped mentioning that), creative and occasionally moody. I threw in that last one because most people put 'honest' and yet didn't list any traits that might sound negative. I know the idea is to attract someone, but if you're going to be 'honest' you should put at least one thing that warns other people of what they'll have to put up with. For instance, if it were my ad I'd put 'complicated', so they would know ahead of time that they might storm out in frustration like my other girlfriends have.

Now there was another problem – a picture. I was asking for one, so to be fair I should give one, but how to get a picture of Keisha on the computer? I didn't own a scanner yet. Then suddenly I remembered Asian Andy had given me a digital camera for Christmas last year, which means he probably knew I'd need it for this. He's super useful that way. Once he told me not to go to an outdoor Slayer concert, so I didn't, and someone in the crowd got hit by lightning. That could have been me. I mean, the guy survived, but getting hit by lightning would suck. Knowing Andy has its advantages. (Although there was this other time when he called and told me not to go to the supermarket that night because I'd meet a woman, fall in love, get married and then she'd cheat on me and dump me. I stayed home, but the next night Andy shows up at The Stoned Tongue with this super hot model-type chic on his arm and they're joking about 'the vegetable aisle'.)

I found all the pictures from the camera, but the only one with Keisha had her posing with Monica, their faces cheek to cheek. Damn. I took a chance and emailed Ramon, a buddy of mine in Mexico who's a whiz with photo stuff. One year I found this picture of Paris Hilton bending over and I had Ramon put me in the picture, looking like I'm kicking her in the ass. I sent it out as a Christmas card that year and everyone loved it. Everyone except Monica, who never appreciated my sense of humor or anything else about me.

Ramon emailed me back (he always seemed to be online) and told me to send him the picture to see what he could do with it. While I waited I listened to some Mudvayne and Hatebreed, then switched gears and put on some Miles Davis. The iguanas like Miles. Finally Ramon sent the picture back. It was incredible, he had removed Monica from it and Keisha didn't look any different. I told Ramon I owed him big, put the picture in the ads and submitted them. Now I'd have to wait.

The first day I got four replies. Two of them were obviously fakes because they sent pictures that I'd seen in my porno surfing. Another said she was thirty-four, but her picture looked like she'd had one too many plastic surgeries. The last one seemed legit, but I emailed her and never heard back. And so it went. The amount of replies grew everyday as more people checked the sites. There were many fakes (I got smart and rooted out suspicious ones by asking them to provide certain pictures – standing in a living room, bedroom, outside, holding up a newspaper, doing a headstand, etc.), and quite a few legitimate ones who didn't seem to fit Keisha's bill. Through emails and Instant Messaging I was able to get an idea about the respondents' personalities. A few were obviously mentally unbalanced, but the majority were people she just wouldn't click with instantly. I was being very selective, remembering that I had only one shot to get this right.

Of course, some of the women caught on to the fact that I was a fake and that generated quite a lot of hate mail. There was one lesbian who figured me out and yet we still ended up becoming good friends, and a bi-sexual girl who wanted to get together anyway. Another beautiful upside to the Internet, you never know who you'll meet (some say that can be a downside as well). But two weeks later the replies started dwindling and I realized the ads had run the course. A few responses still came in here and there, but by the end of the third week I had given up on the idea and went back to figuring out the broccoli and shaving razor dilemma. 

I came home one day, certain that in some frenzy of uncontrolled humor I must have thought that there was no chance anyone had shaved a piece of broccoli bald before and that I had to be the first. I decided to follow through on it after I checked email. Maybe I could create the 'broccoli comb over'. I checked my personal email, admired a sexy picture the bi girl had sent of herself, and then realized I hadn't checked the account I'd set up for the personal ad recently. There was one email. I opened it and downloaded the picture before I read it to see if it was another fake. What I saw stopped me cold. She wasn't beautiful in a model type of way, but when it came to the type of naturally beautiful girl you'd see on the street she was the most stunning I'd ever seen. It looked like the picture was taken in a park with her sitting on a large rock, and something about the setting seemed familiar. She looked young, and I suddenly started wondering if she'd even graduated high school. I noticed she only smiled with her mouth, but it still made her face light up. Except for the eyes. There was something about them that didn't agree with the smile in some way.

Suddenly I realized where the picture was taken. It was a park in the next town, meaning she was very local. I looked in the body of the email. Her name was Jessica and she stated her age at twenty-four. She mentioned a few things about herself, including the fact that she had just moved into town from out of state. Great, very likely Keisha didn't know her already. Also, her musical taste runs somewhat similar to mine. I suddenly thought it would be great if this worked out because she and I would have something in common. It always bummed me that Monica didn't care for my personality. This girl was sounding really great. I sent an email back to Jessica, trying to sound as much like Keisha as I could, hoping that this would work. Jessica emailed me back without a problem and we conversed that way for a week. The 'relationship' was going great. My hopes soared.

Then everything happened suddenly. I was in my office at the store when I signed over to the 'Keisha' account to check for messages. Before I had a chance to check anything an IM came from Jessica. She wanted to talk on the phone. Fuck. That was where I fell into problems with the other respondents who figured me out. What the hell was I going to do?

Think asshole, think. Tell her you're phone's busted. She'd say go to a pay phone. A minute went by. The computer made a "bing!" sound. "Still there?" she wrote. Shit! What do I do now? Think. Where's my bowl? No time for that kind of thinking. Tell her you don't have a phone! She wouldn't believe it. Thirty seconds go by. Bing. "Hello?" Breathe goddamit! Give her Keisha's phone number! Yes! No! Keisha's not home, and I'd be telling her to call. Bing! "Keisha?" Oh crap. Give her the store number, Keisha will answer. Can't do that! They need to meet. It's the only way this will work. Bing. "Is your name really Keisha?" Fuuuucccckkk!!!!! How can I put this off? No...wait...don't put it off. SPEED IT UP.

I wrote, "Sorry. I'm at work, and someone had an emergency problem. I was thinking since we're so close let's just go ahead and meet. You know the coffee shop on Park Street?

Bing. "Passed by, never been inside."

"Want to meet me there at seven?"

There was a pause. Bing. "Sounds good. You remember what I look like, right? ;-)"

The symbol meant she was joking, but I realized this would be a big problem. Keisha doesn't know what Jessica looks like and the photo of her was on my home computer. I could tell Keisha to look for a blonde, but with my luck there'd be a dozen blondes in the place, and her going up to the wrong one could blow this whole thing. I wrote, "Not sure...what will you be wearing?"

"A pink tutu and a large foam cowboy hat."

I laughed before I remembered that she wasn't helping me. Think. What would Keisha say? "Come on, give me something to anticipate."

"You're weird. A lavender blouse, a black skirt and combat boots."

Combat boots? "Combat boots?"

"I wear them with everything. What will you be wearing?"

I froze for a moment before remembering to think like Keisha. "Sorry, I don't plan that far ahead. Gotta get back to work, see you at seven." 

I signed off, sat back in my chair and checked my pulse to make sure it was still there. According to the clock, this mental heart attack only took ten minutes. Another example of why fast paced life sucks. Time to slow down. I took out my bowl and enjoyed a long, relaxing hit. Now on to my next problem, which was getting Keisha to the coffee shop. Another hit first. Ahhhhh. Properly relaxed, I fired up the remaining brain cells to find a solution. My eyes landed on a pile of shipping boxes. Uh huh. Delivery mishap...gotta show ID...cousin's in town...just keep her company...porn incase she suggests the apartment...owe you big time. Perfect. And solved in under thirty seconds.




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 02



I stood up and went to the office door, ready to lie through my teeth to Keisha in order to save her. My hand rested on the doorknob and held it. I thought over my whole plan, trying to find any flaw I may have overlooked. I shook my head and smiled as I mentally confirmed I had come up with the perfect plan. I opened the door. Nothing could go wrong now.

Coming soon in Part 3- The Worst First Date In Recorded History!

Please send feedback to the address in my profile. 



A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 03



A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad

(F/F, oral, anal, exhibitionism, jewelry, drugs, tattoos, piercings, food, bad accents)

DISCLAIMER – This is a fictional story to be read and enjoyed. If you can't read, stop reading. If you can't enjoy, stop reading. If you don't like any of the story codes mentioned above, stop reading. If you can't stop, it's not my problem.

Part 3 – The Worst First Date In Recorded History

I drove slowly to the coffee shop, hoping to minimize the amount of time I had to spend babysitting Bob's cousin. The place was two old storefronts converted into a caffeine junkie's paradise. The first part where you walked in was a service area with a counter taking up a whole wall. A large doorway in the opposite wall led into the other storefront, which was filled with tables, chairs and the occasional couch. The front of the room was a giant window that looked out onto the street. 

Bob's cousin was sitting at a table in front of the window. I took one look at this girl and couldn't believe my eyes. Two words shot to the forefront of my mind – pure beauty. She had a face that looked sweet and innocent, like one of the princesses in a Disney film. Bob said she was twenty-four, but her face looked sixteen and it would be some years before it looked any older. Her blonde hair was cut just below her jaw line, with bangs that made her locks frame her face. It was an obvious attempt to make her look older, and it barely worked.

I stood and watched her for a moment. Something about her seemed off – the way she looked around, checking out the wall art, then the waitresses passing by, then the other people around her. Her arms went from being on the table to her lap to hugging herself to back on the table. At first I thought she had ADD or something, but then it came to me – she was uncomfortable. Maybe she didn't like waiting, or maybe she didn't like being in crowded rooms with lots of people, or maybe she didn't like sitting alone, or maybe she didn't like waiting alone in a crowded room full of lots of people. In any case I was prolonging her agony by just standing there.

I took one step to approach her and then froze in my tracks. Andy's phone call came back to me. Blonde girl. This girl was a blonde. Oh no. No, no, no. In one fluid motion I spun on my heel and was about to make for the door when –

"Keisha!"

Fuck. My first mistake was letting that stop me. My second was responding to her call by turning around. She smiled and waved. It wasn't a wide smile, she didn't even show any teeth, but there was something so sweet in it that I couldn't bear to let her down by fleeing. Even though every fiber in my body was saying run, I smiled back and walked over to the table.

When I got there she stood and we shook hands. Jessica wore a necklace with a silver cross and her right nostril was pierced, a simple silver stud that winked whenever it hit the light. "It's good to finally meet you," she said.

She emphasized the word 'finally', making it sound like Bob had talked about me before today. Which was funny, because he had never mentioned his cousin before. I smiled back and to be polite said, "Same here." We sat. When she spoke, I noticed Jessica's tongue was pierced with a silver bar. The waitress came over. Jessica ordered an espresso and I asked for hazelnut decaf.

"So," I said as the waitress walked off.

"So" Jessica replied as she smiled.

I hated these moments. Trying to cut off a prolonged uncomfortable silence, I said the first thing that came to my mind. "What do you for a living?"

Jessica gave me a confused look. "I thought you knew that already."

Great, she thinks Bob talks about her all the time. I smiled and said, "I have a bad memory."

"I'm a receptionist at a dentist's office, but I'm going to night school for computer programming." Jessica shrugged, "It's not as cool as being in advertising like you are, but I was never that creative."

I guess Bob hadn't mentioned my recent career change. Hearing Jessica talk about my old job kind of hit me wrong, so I was silent. Jessica didn't say anything and we had one of those uncomfortable moments I was dreading. It stretched into a full minute and finally I couldn't take anymore.

"So what kind of music do you like?" I asked. Jessica got a concerned look. "What?" I said.

"You are Keisha Parker, right?"

I smiled and nodded sarcastically. "Uh, yeah."

"Look," she said, "no offense to your bad memory, but if I can remember that you like old funk because your Dad was a musician, I would think you could remember that I like punk and metal."

This was worse than running into someone from high school whose name you can't recall while they remember every class you had together. "I have to go to the bathroom," I said. "I'll be right back."

When I got into a stall I took out my stash and popped a pill. This is what I get for doing a favor for a friend, much less Baked Bob. The girl was driving me so crazy that I went ahead and popped another pill without even thinking about it. I sat on the toilet for a few minutes, waiting for things to kick in. Bob would owe me big for tonight. 

I walked to the mirror and felt the drug coming on strong as I fixed my hair. There was a fight with the bathroom door, which I put an end to when I stopped pushing and found the handle to pull it open. I collided with a woman coming around the corner and apologized about sixty-five times to her. The bathroom was in the back of the coffee shop, so it looked like a forty-mile walk to the table from where I stood. I just kept telling myself to take it slow and everything would be fine.

Fine went out the window in the first two steps when I kicked someone's chair leg. As I apologized to them I bumped into a waitress and knocked the cups she was carrying off her tray. They smashed onto the floor and I tried to help her pick up the mess. She kept telling me it was okay and I realized I was trying to fit the pieces of the cup back together. I got up and started walking towards Jessica again, but stopped to tell a woman I liked her dress and engaged her in a conversation so I could find out where she got it. As soon as she mentioned the store name I walked off without finishing the conversation. Just before I got to the table I noticed someone's dessert on a table. It was a piece of cake drizzled in chocolate sauce.

"Oh, that looks good," I said as I reached over the person and used my finger to wipe up some sauce.

"Hey!" he yelled as I licked my finger. 

"Mmmmm," I said. "You're going to love that."

"Are you okay?" Jessica asked as I sat down.

"I'm...just..." My attention wandered for a moment as I felt something against my face. I realized it was my hand and put it back into my lap. "Look," I said, "I'm trying my best to be...patient here. It's just hard because...well...you're being a bitch."

"What?!"

"Yeah." I felt my hand on my face again and took it away. "I mean...it's hard enough...hard enough..." I lost my train of thought, found it again and said, "I'm here doing a favor for a friend, but all this attitude I'm getting is –"

Jessica cut me off. "Wait, what do you mean you're doing a favor for a friend?" I stared at her. She continued, "Look, unless you're the wrong person, we met on the Internet last week. You answered my personal ad. Hell, you sent me your picture, that's how I recognized you. And now here you are acting like you never read any of my emails."

A bell started ringing in my head. I leaned over to get close to Jessica's face, resisted the urge to lay down on the table, and asked, "You're not Baked Bob's cousin, are you?"

Jessica threw her hands in the air. "Who the fuck is Baked Bob?!"

In that moment, as fucked up as I was, through the haze of what was left of my mind, came the words 'MUST CASTRATE BOB'. 

"That son of a bitch," I said.

"Who?" Jessica asked. 

I wasn't paying attention to her anymore. Without saying another word I got up and walked to the door, managing to only bump into three customers and two waitresses. Outside I walked along the sidewalk, passing the window of the coffee shop with Jessica staring at me through it. I got a few more steps before I realized I was going in the wrong direction. I turned and headed to my car, passing the window again. Jessica was still staring at me.

When I got to my car I dug through my purse for what seemed like forever trying to find my keys. I couldn't believe I kept so much shit in there. Finally I just turned it over and dumped it all on the ground. My junk spread all over the place and I got on my knees, sifting through it like some prospector looking for a gold nugget. I acted like I'd found one when I discovered my keys. Standing up, I started muttering "Never again," referring to how I would never fill my purse with so much shit again. I was about to stick the keys in the door when a hand grabbed them from me.

"You can't drive," Jessica said.

"Yes I can! I found...my keys...so I can drive."

"Look, I don't want to know what you took when you went into the bathroom, but you can't drive right now. I'll drive you home and take a taxi from your place."

"What about your car?"

"I don't have one," she said.

"Well, you can't be a very good driver...if you don't have a...a car." I reached out and tried to get the keys from her, but Jessica yanked her hand back and stuck her finger in my face.

"Shut the fuck up and get in the god dammed car, now."

Dejected, I picked up the stuff from my purse and walked around to the passenger side door muttering, "Snooty, bitchy Disney princess."

I was silent for the first half of the ride, looking out the window at all the houses and apartment buildings and wondering what people were doing inside. I turned when Jessica asked, "Okay, now I'm curious. What the hell did you take when you went to the bathroom?"

"A little pill. Or two."

Jessica looked at me with wide eyes, then sighed and shook her head. Silence descended on the car again, and suddenly I felt very disappointed in myself. I kept trying to think of something to say, wanting to change her opinion of me. When I looked at Jessica something hit me and I perked up.

"I just...figured out something. About you."

Her face had an annoyed look. "What wonderful bit of wisdom is that?"

"When we were, where...at the coffee shop! There was something, about your eyes, that didn't fit with your face. Don't worry...it's not a physical...wait...flaw. They're dull blue, right?" Jessica didn't answer so I continued. "It really works with your...hair and clear skin." I reached out to touch her cheek, but Jessica batted away my hand.

"Stop it," she said. I sat there quietly until Jessica asked, "So what's your point?"

"It's just that, I realized what...was bothering me. What I saw." Suddenly my attention was drawn to a diner we were passing, and I could almost smell the disco fries (that's French fries with melted cheese and gravy, for those of you poor souls not familiar with it).

"Hello? Planet Keisha?"

I looked at her. "It was...pain...in those eyes." Jessica looked at me. "And it's still there," I said. "It's the kind of pain that shows through, no matter how much you..." I thought and then shrugged, "...try to smile or look happy."

Jessica was silent for a minute. Then she turned to me looking like she was going to say something, thought better of it and looked back at the road. We traveled the rest of the way in silence, mostly because I passed out.

The next thing I knew we were walking down the sidewalk to my building. Actually, Jessica was walking. I was half-walking, half-being carried. When we got to the stairs I looked up and saw that Ronald and Tim were at their usual post. I groaned but said nothing, hoping we could just pass them without incident. No such luck.

"Awwww," Tim started, "what's wrong with my favorite girl?"

"She's had a little too much to drink," Jessica said as she dragged me up the stairs. "Think one of you guys could be chivalrous and get the door for me?"

Ronald snorted. "We don't assist niggers or nigger-lovers."

Jessica stopped. All of a sudden I felt something hit my side, and it took me a moment to realize she had dropped me to the ground. By the time I looked up Jessica was standing right in Ronald's face. "What did you call her?" she asked.

"Jessica," a croaked voice said. I realized it was mine. "Don't," I said, but no one looked over or acknowledged that I spoke.

Tim smiled. "You her new bitch?" he asked. The smile dropped when Tim realized she wasn't even acknowledging him. 

Jessica was staring intently at Ronald. She asked the question slowly this time. "What did you call her?"

Ronald smiled. "Since you're deaf, I'll repeat it slowly. Ni-guh-er."

What happened next is one of those moments that stay with you forever. 

Jessica's hand moved so fast that it took me a moment to realize something just happened. Ronald might not have noticed either, except for the fact that his head snapped back and there was blood pouring from his nose. The surprise in that moment seemed to hang in the air as time slowed down. Everyone just stood there frozen as our minds tried to digest the shock of what just happened. Everyone with the exception of Jessica, who let out a yell as she struck again, and this time Ronald grasped at his throat. Then her hands were against his chest and she used all of her body weight to push him over the railing. He fell into the bushes and disappeared.

Tim stood there with his mouth open. Jessica had just dispatched with his friend in three very quick moves. Tim reached out and grabbed Jessica's hand, but I had no idea what he was trying to do. I don't think Tim had any idea either.

"Hang on, I'll help." I said as I started to get up. My brain spun in my head, and I fell back down again.

Jessica's foot quickly moved up and then downward, striking Tim in the knee. He cried out in pain as he let go of her hand and grabbed at his injured body part. Jessica's leg shot outward and kicked Tim's side, sending him tumbling down the stairs. I had managed to get to my knees by then. Suddenly I felt hands around my waist as Jessica helped me to my feet. She put my arm over her shoulders and resumed helping me walk. 

"We showed them," I muttered.

Once we got into the apartment Jessica said, "Huh. Nice place. Not what I expected from an addict." On the way to the bedroom we passed a table with a picture of Monica and I hugging. I stopped, picked up the picture and kissed Monica. "You have a girlfriend?" she asked as I put the picture back down.

"Yeah," I said. "But don't worry, she's dead." I wasn't looking at Jessica's face, so I don't know how she reacted to that.

In the bedroom Jessica turned on the bedside light. She lowered me onto the bed, took off my boots and pulled the covers over me. Looking down at me she said, "Well, I can't say it was a boring date. You managed to embarrass both of us in a public place, I had to drive you home because you're addicted to drugs, you passed out on me, I had to carry you to your apartment, and then there was a fight with Nazi skinheads. Did I forget anything? Oh yes, the fact that this whole thing was a sham to start with because of someone named 'Baked Bob'."

"That son of a bitch," I moaned.

Jessica sighed, shook her head and said, "You did manage to prove that all my friends who warned me about online dating were right. So if you don't mind, I'm going to go home, take down my ad, and get ready for three months of 'I told you so's'."

Jessica turned to leave, but in a burst of energy I reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't go!"

She turned. "Honey, the last thing this date needs is extra innings."

"I'm scared. I took two pills...and I've never taken two pills before and what if...what if...they kill me?"

"Then you're shit out of luck, because I'm not a paramedic." 

Jessica's tone was harsh, but I could see her eyes soften. She stared at me for a minute. Finally she shook her head and took off her coat. "God, I'm a fucking idiot."

She walked around to the other side of the bed and took off her boots. Then she kneeled on the floor facing the bed, made the sign of the cross and propped her elbows on the mattress with her eyes closed. I stared at her until I worked up the courage to ask, "Are you praying?"

One eye opened. "Yes. Do you have a problem with it?"

I shook my head. "Just haven't seen that in a while, that's all."

Her eye closed and she went back to praying. I stared at the ceiling and tried not to pass out. It seemed like quite a while. Suddenly Jessica said out loud, "And God, please do not let Keisha die during the night. Also, now that I think about it, please do not let her wake up, grab a knife and stab me to death. Amen."

Jessica climbed into the bed next to me. "You don't snore, do you?"

"No."

"Good." She turned on her side facing away from me. "Wake me up if you're going to die."

I lay there for a full minute, on my back, with the covers pulled up to my neck. The room was moving like an old television set that lost its vertical hold. I closed my eyes. Even the black was moving. 

"Are you going to turn off that light?" Jessica asked.

In a hoarse voice I said, "I'm afraid I'll fall."

Jessica groaned, turned around and reached over me to turn off the light. Her neck was right near my nose and suddenly I smelled something very familiar.

It was Monica's perfume.

Jessica shut off the light and went back to her side. I opened my eyes and remembered what Monica had taught me about meditation. Taking in a slow, deep breath while counting to ten, letting it out while counting to ten. I felt a little more in control. Another deep breath and the tension eased.

"Jessica," I said.

"Call me Jess. What?"

I paused. "Thank you."

Just before I fell asleep I heard, "Yeah."

At some point I woke up. Nothing was spinning anymore. Pre-dawn light streamed through the blinds that I normally close before going to sleep, allowing me to see in the room. The bedside clock said it was quarter to six in the morning.

I looked over and saw Jess next to me. She was lying on her back and she looked like an angel. Her face was as smooth as a porcelain doll. I lay there for a while and watched Jess sleep, her chest slowly moving up and down, her nostrils flaring slightly with each breath. I leaned over to get a scent of her perfume, the same one Monica used to wear. Jess' full lips were pink and looked so soft. I leaned down, just to give a slight kiss to them, and became intoxicated by their feel. They were everything they looked to be. I didn't want to separate my mouth from them, so I went in for more. 

I leaned against her a little, and that must have woken her up. Jess' eyes popped open and I felt her hands on me. Her reaction was instant as she flipped us over and held my hands down, using her pelvis to pin mine down to the bed. Jess' breathing was steady but audible. There was a wild, feral look in her eyes.

I was ready for anything. If she yelled or called me names, if she slapped me or punched me in the nose, if she got up and stormed out. I even found myself wishing she would kill me. Deep down I knew my life had turned to shit, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to be able to turn it around. I wanted her to do something, anything. Whatever it was I was ready to take it, because in so many ways I felt like I deserved it.

I was ready for anything. Except what happened next.

Jess leaned down and kissed me. She missed my mouth a little, adding to the feeling that she was unsure about the kiss. At first I didn't respond, genuinely surprised at her action, but then I adjusted so our mouths met properly and sent my tongue after hers. A slight panic came over me when I felt something hard, but then I remembered her tongue stud. It was strange working around a piece of metal in someone else's mouth. Jess still held my hands down, so I lifted my head towards hers. A noise came from her, a moan or a sigh, and then she let my hands go and brought hers to the sides of my face. I put my arms around her body and pulled it tight to mine, then rolled us so I was on top. Our kissing became more primal, driven by a need to be inside one another. It almost felt like we were two people finally quenching a long-denied lust, which seems ridiculous since we'd only met the night before. My hands slid under her top and I caressed her sides. 




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 03



My fingers ran over bumps on her skin, odd ones that I couldn't think of any easy explanation for. But I didn't really care. I felt something, something that didn't want me to stop what was happening, even for a moment. I pulled away from the kiss and started placing little kisses on her cheeks and on her forehead. Jess took a deep breath through her nose and let it out through her mouth. I started kissing along her jaw line and down her neck. My hands could feel the muscles in Jess' torso tense up as I kissed down her chest. I brought my hands down and started to bring up her blouse.

Suddenly Jess' hands were on my wrists, stopping me. Her eyes locked with mine, and she shook her head. 

"It's okay," I said softly.

The look on her face had changed, and I saw fear in her eyes. "No," she said, her voice barely audible. "I don't want you to see."

"Trust me."

The look on her face was that of a scared little girl. I was about to repeat my last statement when her hands let go of my wrists and fell to her sides. I changed strategies and started unbuttoning her blouse. Jess swallowed hard and closed her eyes. When I reached the last button I paused, and then started to pull open the blouse. Jess made a whimpering sound and I stopped.

"It's okay," I repeated. Then I opened her blouse.

There were scars, at least a dozen of them, maybe more. Red and raised skin, crisscrossed along her sides and some coming into her chest and stomach areas. They were long and thin, like they had been made by a whip or thin belt. I started kissing her belly, trying to let her know I wasn't bothered by what I saw. There was a tribal tattoo around Jess' belly button, which was also pierced at the top and had a jewel on a metal bar that hung into the deep hole. I licked up and down, over the tattoo and then over one of the scars. I placed little kisses everywhere along her belly. My tongue played with the metal in her belly button, then I licked along one of the scars. 

I started working my way up to her bra, a simple white one with a clasp in the front. Jess moaned as I went to unhook the clasp. It wasn't a moan of pleasure, more like a moan of dread. When I opened the bra I could see why. There were large, circular scars on her breasts, just outside of each nipple. It took me a moment to realize they were burn marks. I also noticed both her nipples were pierced with medium gauge silver rings. Tattooed on her left breast was a little red heart and the words "Sweet Heart".

I kissed all over her breasts, including the scars, and then centered in on her nipples. I ran my tongue over her right one a few times. Jess' eyes were squeezed shut like she was waiting for something painful. I put my hand to the side of her face and rubbed my thumb along her cheek. "Relax," I said.

She relaxed her face but kept her eyes shut. I started licking her nipple again, running my tongue over it and around it, hooking the nipple ring and pulling up slightly. Jess made an audible exhale. I moved over to the other nipple, doing the same while my fingers kept the other one excited. She made a gasp and then a moan when I used my teeth lightly. Her eyes opened. I got up on my knees and took off my top and my bra, so that when I laid back down our skin was touching. Our faces inches apart, Jess leaned up and kissed me. This time there was no hesitation. Now she was hungry for it.

Her hands glided along my back, stopping to rub here and there. I could feel the metal of the nipple rings against my breasts. As I kissed her, I realized how different this felt from the sex I'd been having over at Renee's lately. There I was just having fun, letting loose and trying to forget what I'd just been through. And maybe being used a little bit, but I accepted that because you rarely get something for nothing. But being with Jess felt different. From the moment I'd seen her the night before, I had a desire to be with her, an overwhelming urge to somehow exist in her world. I didn't understand it then, which is why I let Andy's warning almost lead me out of there, but I knew I felt something. She was special somehow. 

The kiss ended and I got back on my knees. Her face started dropping again when she realized what I wanted, but she didn't tell me to stop. I undid the button and then the zipper of her skirt. Looking up at her face, I gave her a warm smile, trying to ease her tension. It was going to take more than my smile. I slid the skirt down her legs and past her feet, noticing the small leopard she had tattooed on the outside of her right ankle and the sliver toe rings she had on each index toe. Jess wore a pair of standard white panties and I could see more scars peeking around the edges. Instead of acknowledging them I brought her left foot to my mouth and started to lick it, along the instep and then the bottom. It tickled her a little and she made a sharp noise as she pulled away a little. The corners of her mouth were up slightly.

I said, "Well, it's good to see you almost smiled."

Jess' face brightened a little. I brought her foot back to my mouth and started to suck on her toes. My tongue rolled around the toe ring and then I played with it with my fingers. Looking Jess in the eye I said, "I love these things. They look so sexy on a girl." Her face showed little reaction to that, so I picked up the other foot and gave it the same treatment. When I licked the area with the tattoo, I paused to tell her how impressive the artwork looked. She gave me a shy smile. Soon I lowered her foot and put my fingers into the waistband of her panties. Jess bit on her lower lip. 

When I pulled them down I had to work hard not to react. So far, what I had seen could easily have been parental abuse. But looking at what her panties covered, I realized that Jess had been outright tortured. There were easily twice as many scars in her crotch area as there were over the rest of her body. She was shaved, which made it all more visible. But what was really disturbing were the burn marks. There were two of them, on either side of her mons, in the shape of crosses. Then I realized they weren't just burn marks. They were brands.

I heard a sniffle and looked up at her face. "It's horrible, isn't it?" she whispered.

There was no point in denying it. "Yes, it is," I said, and ran my hand along the area. Looking her straight in the eye I added, "But you're not."

Jess' lip twitched and I wasn't sure how she took my statement. I leaned down and kissed along her pubic bone and then along one of the scars. My tongue came out and licked the area. I noticed there were two words tattooed in a half-arch over her mons – "Never Again".

Taking a deep breath I used my fingers to spread her open. It was what I expected. There were several scars, which looked worse since the skin down there is thinner. I closed my eyes and started licking, going by feel more than anything. Making sure to lick all over and skip nothing, I felt all the bumps of every scar on my tongue. Jess started reacting, beginning with several small moans and working up to loud cries as I started working on her clit, which was pierced with the same size silver ring as her breasts. I rubbed my fingers around her slit, getting them coated in some juice before I slid a finger inside her. She let loose with a long, sing-songy moan that almost made me laugh. I started fucking her slowly as my tongue licked her clit, flicking it and rubbing my tongue against it. I hooked the ring in my tongue and pulled back a little and that caused her to yell, "Oh!" 

Spurned on by her cry, I pulled a few more times, increasing the volume of her moans. Then I went back to licking and sucking on her clit. My finger pumped fast, and soon I added a second one. Jess was moaning with every breath now, and when I looked up I was surprised with what I saw. Her thumbs were hooked into her nipple rings and pulling them up sharply, causing her breasts to elongate. Most people would immediately worry about how painful that was, but my first thought was wondering how much pleasure it caused. Monica always joked that I'd try anything to see if it caused an orgasm or a heightened sexual reaction. After Baked Bob and Asian Andy dragged us to the movie 'Jackass', she was worried that I would stick a firecracker in my cunt just to see if it made me orgasm. I assured her I would never do anything that stupid. But it did get me wondering.

I increased the speed of my fingers as I licked and sucked on Jess' clit. The taste of her honey drove me to work harder, and she let out a long moan as she shuddered to a climax. I leaned my head on the inside of her leg, trying not to look at the scars. Suddenly, I felt her hands on my head and heard her say something.

"What?" I asked.

"Thank you." A tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly.

When I woke up again it was nine thirty. Jess was leaned up against my body and we were holding each other. I could hear her snoring lightly. Careful not to wake her, I slid from out of her arms and crawled out of the bed. Lately I'd become very successful at slipping out of beds without waking people. Maybe I should consider a career in burglary. 

I went to the kitchen and put some water in the teapot. Then I tried to find some stuff in the fridge to serve, but since my diet recently consisted of little white pills and takeout I had kind of let things slide. 

There was a rustling noise, and when I walked out of the kitchen Jess was sitting on the couch with her coat on. She stood when she saw me.

"I...just wanted to say thank you, before I left. And I hope I wasn't too rude to you last night. It's just –"

I held up my hands. "I don't think either of us is responsible for how we acted last night."

Jess nodded. We stood there for a moment in silence. It seemed like she wanted to leave, but something was making her hesitate. I wondered if she was working up the courage to say something. Holding my arm towards the couch, I said, "Would you mind sitting for a minute? I want to ask you something."

Her face brightened a little at my first sentence, but sank when I mentioned a question. She sat down and I sat next to her. There was a long, uncomfortable silence while I figured out how to ask the question, and decided whether or not I really wanted to know the answer. Jess played with the sleeve of her coat, her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. It occurred to me that she knew what I wanted to ask.

Jess spoke first. "Trust me, you don't really want to know."

I sat there and stared at her for a moment. She was trying to control her emotions, but Jess' face gave away the struggle going on inside her head.

I said, "You know, it might help if you talk about it."

Jess looked at me and then looked away. "You already think I'm some kind of freak. Having all these tattoos and piercings when I already have all that...you know."

"I think I understand," I said. "You're just trying to reclaim your body. Make it yours again."

I must have surprised her, because Jess stared at me like I'd just told her the Earth was flat. After a long pause she said, "You sure you want to know?"

"I'm not just trying to be nice."

Jess took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out the same way. She spoke in a slow and deliberate manner. "When I was fifteen, and I started to figure things out, about me, I used my dad's computer to do some research. Websites, gay community stuff, support groups. Of course, there were none in my area." Jess paused before a sly smile grew on her mouth. "And then I found sex stories. So I printed off a bunch and hid them in my closet." She took in air again, but this time Jess held it for a few seconds before she exhaled. "My mom had been looking for stuff to give to Goodwill when she found them." Jess shook her head slightly as the memory replayed itself behind her eyes. "The way she looked at me, like I was from another world. She told my dad and..." Jess looked at me. " You have to understand, my parents are extremely religious people."

"Extremely?" I said.

"I used to joke that they made evangelicals look like atheists."

"Holy shit."

Jess nodded. "They said my soul was at stake, that they'd do anything to save me. I got so angry. I told them the only people I needed saving from was them. My mom pleaded with me, told me I had to repent before the devil claimed me. I tried telling her the devil had nothing to do with it, but that was like telling a fish not to swim."

I chuckled. Jess gave me a serious look. "Sorry," I said.

"That night I couldn't sleep. I was scared and pissed off, but mostly I was worried. I realized that what happened earlier was going to be the norm for a while...started to wonder if I was going to have to leave home before college. I could hear my parents were still awake downstairs. Figured they were going to put in an all-nighter, trying to figure out how to save their daughter." Jess swallowed hard. "Then the door opened and the light came on. Before I could see what was happening my mom was holding me down and my dad used some of his belts to tie me to the bed."

I felt something turn in the pit of my stomach. Jess' lower lip was trembling and her hands were balled into tight fists. "They kept me strapped to that bed for three months, and they...they...it...um..."

I put my hand on Jess' forearm to let her know she didn't have to say anything else. She was on the verge of crying, but her face was tight like she was fighting it off. In a minute her face softened and she took another breath. It made me realize I needed to breathe too.

Without looking at me, Jess said, "I'm sorry. I need to go."

And she did. We didn't exchange phone numbers or anything, somehow it just didn't seem appropriate. Besides, after Andy's premonition I wasn't jumping to have a blonde in my life. What I did want was to follow through on my castration plan for Bob, but I felt like I could sleep for another eight hours. I went to my bedroom and did just that. Didn't really matter. I knew where he'd be that night.

AUTHOR'S NOTE - Unfortunately, we are about to have another change in point of view. Bob wanted the scene where he sees Keisha for the first time after the date to be from his perspective. He was so sure it was going to be such a great moment. And it was. (PS- I went for the mother load this time. Six bottles of Captain Morgan's Private Stock, an ounce of weed, DVD copies of 'Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle', 'But I'm A Cheerleader!,' the second season of 'Farscape', and a VHS copy of 'Beyond The Valley of the Dolls'. I'm getting to like bribery.)

Hey, Baked Bob again. I can't believe how well the whole setup with Keisha worked out. At first I thought she wasn't going to go for it, but then she did and I got so excited that I forgot to tell her all the things Jessica told me about herself. Ah, well, I'm sure they got along just fine. Keisha's a smart girl, and this Jessica seemed like the no-nonsense type Keisha likes. 

I was standing on a side street against the outside wall of The Stoned Tongue, along with Trilly, Sam and Asian Andy. Trilly had just handed me a joint, and said, "Try this and tell me it's not really good shit."

I took a hit. It had a good smell, and after another hit I started feeling the effect. "Not bad," I said.

I was about to hand off the joint when Andy turned to me. "Bob, you might want to cover your –"

Suddenly Keisha came around the corner. I was so excited to see her and find out how the date went. "Hey! There's my girl! How'd it go?"

Keisha slapped me hard on the face. I didn't understand the negative reaction, but I was too busy being impressed to worry about it. "Holy shit, I didn't even feel that!" I turned to Trilly and held up the joint. "This is really good shit!" 

I'd barely turned back around before Keisha kicked me in the nuts. Pain shot through my entire body and I crumpled to the ground. I watched Keisha's feet as she stormed away. It was simply great instincts that kept the hand holding the joint from crushing it under my body. 

Trilly took the joint from my hand as I moaned in pain. He said, "Sorry man, it ain't that good."

AUTHROR'S NOTE: We now return to our regularly scheduled first person.

Sending Bob's nuts to his throat felt better than it should have. Afterwards I went to Renee's just to hang out. Renee was on the phone in her office. I found Zhi watching television in the bedroom.

"Where's Duscha?" I asked her.

"Took money to Tyler." 

No one had told me outright, but over time I'd surmised that Duscha was the one who delivered Tyler his cut of the drug business. At the same time, everyone assumed that I'd figured this out and talked freely about it around me. I'd also learned that Duscha had come to Renee by way of Tyler, which is why she was trusted with this duty. Duscha liked to party, and Tyler had lots to party with, so whenever she delivered the money it usually meant she was out for the night.

I sat next to Zhi on the bed. She was watching some reality show. Indicating the television, she asked, "Why do they let this be done to them?"

I shook my head. "Stupidity, mostly."

Zhi looked up at me. I realized she wanted more of an answer.

"For some people, it's better to be famous for doing something stupid than it is not to be famous at all."

Zhi looked at the screen and was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Duscha."

I immediately understood what she meant and laughed. Zhi started laughing too, and I realized it was the first time I'd heard her do so. As our laughing slowed she looked at me with a mischievous grin and said, "Do you wish to see something?"

I nodded and Zhi scrambled off the bed and opened the closet. She dug around until she pulled out a large box that she brought to the bed and put down between us. There were pictures inside, dozens of them, mostly black and white. I picked up a handful and started looking. They were family pictures, and at first I didn't know what was so special about them. A man, woman, and three children, mostly around a house in what looked like an upscale suburban neighborhood. Based on the items and hairstyles in the pictures, the time period looked to be mid to late 1960's. I still didn't get it. But as I kept going and the youngest daughter got older, I started to recognize something familiar in the face.

"Oh my God," I finally said. "Is this Renee?"

Zhi nodded enthusiastically. I kept going through the pictures. Renee was originally a red head, and her skin was as pale as could be. Her skin color now was most likely a salon job. I started to laugh.

Zhi reached into the bottom of the box and pulled out a large book. "Best part," she said as she handed it to me.

It was a yearbook for a high school in Durbin, Michigan, class of 1982. Zhi opened the book for me and flipped the pages until we got to a picture of a teenage Renee in the senior class. Zhi pointed at the name under the picture. I laughed out loud. Renee's real name was Rachel Horowitz.

We put everything back in the box and Zhi returned it to the closet. I could see the tattoo on her ass and remembered about wanting to ask her what it meant. To be honest, there were many things about Zhi that I wanted to know. Her English was very good at times and then very spotty at others, making me curious about when she came to this country and why. I also wondered how she came to be with Renee. After what she just showed me, I realized this might be a good time to ask, and decided to do it as she sat down next to me.

But before I could say anything we looked at each other and started laughing again. It felt good to laugh. I felt like I hadn't had a good laugh in forever. When the laughter died down, Zhi and I looked at each other and I saw the sadness in her eyes again. But this time there was something else there as well. She leaned in and I did the same and our lips met. We were hesitant at first, almost like both of us felt the need for caution. The kisses were slow and sensual and soft. I could feel the warm breath coming from her nostrils. Our tongues got involved and she put her hands to my face. My hands went to her sides, stroking up and down her bare flesh. 




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 03



Zhi fell back on the bed and pulled me on top of her. We broke the kiss and I licked my way down to her small, dark nipples, sucking and licking one and then the other. Once I felt I had her good and worked up I slid the rest of the way down her body. Zhi's legs were hanging over the side of the bed and I knelt on the floor between them. She was shaved except for a small, thin strip in the front, which I ran my fingers through to tease her. Zhi moaned and brought her legs up and rested them on my shoulders. I brought my arms around her hips so my fingers could open her flower, allowing me to run my tongue over its entire length. She let out a gasp. I began licking her folds to get her going, soon tasting her fluids and then positioning my tongue to the entrance of her slit. I kept it stiff as I pushed it in slowly; brought it out and pushed it back in again. Zhi's breathing was audible and she crossed her feet behind me, locking my body into hers. Then I started moving my head quickly, fucking her with my tongue. Her breathing turned into grunts. My tongue was coated in fluid and I had some on my face as well. 

Zhi yelled something in her native tongue. I pulled mine out of her and brought it to her clit and started licking. Zhi's legs stretched straight out as she came. She lay on the bed, spent, while I stood and took off my clothes. I climbed onto the bed and lay next to her body, watching her chest rise and fall. She reached out and touched my face.

"That was good," she said.

"I'm glad you liked it."

Her hand moved down to my breast and stroked along it lightly. This treatment cause my nipple to harden and soon she pinched and rolled it between her thumb and index finger. I leaned down and we kissed again. She looked at me.

"Climb on me," she said.

I brought myself up and straddled her head. Zhi's hands stroked my sides as I brought my hands down between my legs and held myself open for her. Zhi's tongue licked up and down and side to side and diagonally. This was what she always did. When I asked her about it she said that back in China someone had taught her to eat pussy by drawing the alphabet. An ex-girlfriend had done it to me once and I found it pretty boring. But with Zhi it seemed much more stimulating, and at first I didn't understand the difference. Then one day it occurred to me – Zhi was doing the Chinese alphabet.

Zhi's hands came to my breasts and she started to run her fingers over them. I moaned a little. Zhi's tongue started working exclusively on my clit. I moaned a lot. My hips started moving and grinding. I ran my fingers through her hair and looked down at her closed eyes. She alternated between licking and sucking. As I got closer I started bucking my hips. My head tilted back and Zhi started pinching my nipples, sending little shock waves through me. Then my mouth dropped open and it happened. No sound came from my throat, just a silent jump from pleasure to an explosion. I dropped face forward on the bed. Zhi climbed out from under me and onto my back and hugged me as she laughed. "Good?"

I took in a deep breath. "It hardly sucked," I said. "Well actually...forget it."

The door opened and Renee walked in. "Well, well, what have you two been up to?"

Zhi and I looked at each other and started laughing.

When I woke up the next morning I got dressed and left Renee's without waking anyone. Yep, burglary is my new career. Driving back to my place, I thought about my encounter with Zhi. It was different from the threesome we had with Renee afterwards, or any other sex I'd had with Zhi previously. Making love with Jess had the kind of deeper passion I'd experienced with Monica. But what happened between Zhi and I last night was something else entirely, something to do with the sadness I felt we shared, the sense of loss that had made us similar in some way. Like two people comforting each other, just a little more intimate than how it usually happens.

When I got to my building I noticed Tim standing across the street. I wasn't sure why, usually he'd wait for Ronald on the front steps. There was a concerned look on his face, so I rushed inside before anything happened. When I stopped in the lobby to grab my mail, I noticed the nametag on Ronald's mailbox was gone. Thinking that was too good to be true, I stopped by the super's apartment to confirm it. Turns out it was too good and true – Ronald had moved out. The super was as excited about it as I was, and when he asked if I knew why, I couldn't help but tell him the truth. Of course, I left out the detail of my condition at the time. We had a good laugh at the thought of Ronald being embarrassed over having his ass kicked by a girl. I was still flying high at the thought when I found a bouquet of flowers at the door of my apartment. The note read:

Keisha,

You're going to think I'm nuts, but I'd like to give us another chance. For years now I've been keeping my distance from people. Many have tried and failed, sometimes for months, to get me to open up. Then in one night, you got me to tell you everything. I can't believe its just coincidence. From the moment I saw your picture it struck something in me, and despite the deception of how we met, and that first date from Hell, I still look at your picture and get that feeling. I'm convinced we need to give this a shot. Please give me a chance to convince you.

Jess

She included her address and phone number at the bottom. The sincerity of the note hit me hard, and for a moment I was ready to pick up the phone and call her. But then I looked at the flowers, specifically a rose sticking out of the top, and a memory struck like a bolt of lightning. A rose I had in my hand for Monica when I knocked on her apartment door. We were at that point when you're going from just dating to a more serious relationship, and I wanted to discuss it with her. She was making me dinner at her place and I showed up dressed to make her mouth water. But I knew she had outdone me when the door opened and she stood there stark naked. She wore a belly chain made of dark beads around her waist and a wide smile on her face.

She looked at the rose. "Is that for me?"

"That depends," I said as I returned the smile and jutted my chin at her body. "Is that for me?"

The tip of her tongue licked the left corner of her lip. I stepped towards her and used the rose to playfully brush back and forth over her right nipple. Monica's eyes fluttered and I heard her exhale softly. I moved the rose over to her left nipple while my other hand reached out and covered her right breast, squeezing it gently. Monica moved closer and kissed me softly on the lips. I pressed my mouth into hers and our lips began to shower each other with kisses. Our bodies drew closer, so I brought my arms around Monica and used the rose on her butt. I ran it up and down each cheek and then up and down her crack. She gave a little whimper as I did this, and then latched her mouth to mine and sent her tongue in. I could feel her bare breasts though my shirt as her arms wrapped around me and squeezed my body into hers. My tongue responded and we stood there for a while, kissing passionately as I used the rose to spurn her on, oblivious to the fact that the front door was still open. A stampede of wild boar could have run through the hallway and we wouldn't have noticed.

Suddenly Monica broke the kiss and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it across the room. Then she ripped my bra past my breasts without any regard to causing pain. I don't think I could have felt any at that moment. I dropped the rose and we embraced again, our bare breasts mashed against each other, my hands roughly kneading her ass cheeks and our mouths locked together. Monica's hands pulled my skirt down, leaving me wearing my thong and my knee-high leather boots. Her hand made its way to my crotch and pressed against the triangle of fabric that kept my pubic hair from escaping. I moaned as she did it, mostly to indicate that I wanted her to continue without having to break our kiss.

Luckily she picked up on my subtle hint. Her fingertips started to move over my pubic hair protector and excited me more. Monica brought her hand up and under the waistband so she was in direct contact with my mound. She flattened her hand and pressed it, curling the top joint of her fingers to tease me with a hint of what was to come. I decided to tease her too, running my fingers down into her crack and finding her little dark hole. I rubbed a finger back and forth across it, finally centering it right over it and giving the slightest bit of pressure.

Monica broke the kiss and looked at me. Her eyes had a wild look, like she'd lost control. "You're such a fucking tease," she said.

"Excuse me," I said a little breathlessly. "But who has her hand in my panties right now?"

I heard a voice and looked behind me. Two guys were walking past in the hallway. The one who was talking wouldn't have noticed us if the other one hadn't happened to be looking our way. He grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him back. My body was blocking them from seeing Monica, but they had a perfect view of my ass. They were staring intently at us with wide eyes. I couldn't tell if they were trying to savor the moment of if their brains had gone into complete meltdown. 

Finally one of them said, "Nice ass."

"Thanks," I responded. 

Monica reached behind me and threw the door shut. She started kissing me again passionately and pulled me towards the bedroom. We stumbled over something and then fell back onto the bed, still kissing. I started moving my tongue down her neck until I was between her breasts. Sucking each nipple in turn, I watched Monica bite her lip and moan with her eyes closed. She looked so sexy. I continued moving down until I was between her legs. Sticking my face in her hairy mound, I grabbed some of the hairs between my lips and pulled my face back, allowing the hairs to pull a little as they slipped away from me. My girl let out a loud moan. 

"Keish," she said. "Would you mind, um...you know..."

I did know. Monica was a self-described anal freak. A few weeks earlier we'd had a conversation about what each of us was into sexually, and when she brought it up I was a little hesitant. But then she did it to me and I liked what I felt. Returning the favor took a little more time, but once I got over my initial reservations I started to enjoy the effect it had on her. Eventually I would joke that the fastest way to Monica's heart was through her asshole. 

Monica rolled her onto her stomach and I grabbed her hips and pulled her lower body up on her knees. Then she grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them apart, exposing her private parts to me. I stuck my face between them and started rimming her asshole. A loud, long moan escaped Monica. By holding herself open, Monica allowed my hands some freedom. One played with her pussy while I sent the other between my legs. I ran my fingers up and down Monica's slit. She was very wet and her skin felt very warm. It was the same between my legs, where my finger started working me up the ladder of pleasure.

The more I licked Monica's rosebud, the louder she moaned. Monica stuck her face in the pillow to try and quiet her growing noise. I pulled my face back and brought up my finger coated in Monica's juices. Placing my finger at her crinkled hole, relaxed by my rim job, I slowly pushed in a little, stopped, pushed in a little more, pulled out a little, then pushed in some more and stopped again. One thing Monica had taught me was that with anal sex, no matter how experienced (and stretched) the other person is, it's always best to take it slow. Aside from avoiding discomfort, it also increases the pleasure by bringing it on slowly. Soon I had my entire finger up her tailpipe (as she liked to call it). I wiggled it around, causing Monica to have a sharp intake of breath. Slowly I pulled it almost all the way out, then pushed all the way in again.

"Keisha...fucking good."

With that, I started increasing my pace, my finger moving in and out with greater speed. With great regret I took my other hand away from my pussy to play with her pussy, running the fingers around her hole, teasing it before I slipped a digit inside. I alternated the fingers while trying to keep them at the same pace. Slipping another finger in her pussy made Monica moan louder and she started calling my name. Then she moaned something that I couldn't make out. "What?" I asked.

"Toys. We need toys." Monica threw her upper body over the side of the bed and I tried to move with her to keep my fingers in position. There were sounds of rummaging, followed by a few anal vibrators and a tube of lube being tossed onto the bed. Monica looked back at me with a wicked grin on her face.

I smiled and said, "What's the plan?"

Monica quickly positioned us into a sixty-nine with her on top. We lubed up the anal vibrators and started slowly pushing them into each other. We wouldn't turn them on until the right time. Since I was on the bottom, Monica didn't have much room to maneuver hers in and out, but I was new to the anal thing and hadn't been stretched much anyway. I stared licking Monica, and she gave a quick moan before starting on me. There was plenty of her sweet honey for me to savor as I licked and sucked on her clit. I moved the vibrator slowly in and out of her, trying to keep a steady pace. It wasn't easy. Monica's tongue had me going in no time, and I felt the pressure of the vibrator move into my rectum. Both caused pleasure sensations that made my efforts to concentrate practically painful. I flicked my tongue back and forth over Monica's clit as I felt her sucking on mine, and sucked hers as she licked mine. I heard her giggle when she must have picked up on it.

Monica started pressing her hips towards my face. I figured she was on the edge, so I licked faster and sucked harder. She stopped what she was doing to me and said, "Turn on mine!"

My fingers twisted the end of the vibrator and it buzzed to life. Monica let out a few short, loud moans followed by a "Yeahhhhhhhh!" I continued to move the vibrator in and out of her slowly as my tongue worked at lightning speed. Finally she slumped on top of me and I stopped. Monica was still for a few moments, but soon started licking my clit again. I lapped up her juices and then kept going. I was soon on the edge myself and told her to start the vibrator. It moved inside of me and I gasped, the feeling of its sensations on my sphincter muscles was intense. Monica started sucking on my clit and humming at the same time, which drove me over the edge. I felt the spasms in my stomach muscles as I arched forward. My body jerked a few more times before I slumped down again. The only sound in the room was our heavy breathing as our bodies tried to regain control of themselves.

That was the first of many orgasms that night.

Later, we lay on top of the covers, facing each other, trying to catch our breath as our hands stroked each other's sides.

"What do you want in a relationship?" I asked. It was what I had planned to ask over dinner, before her libido jumped me at the door.

"Besides great, hot sex?"

I smiled. "Let's assume that's a given."

Monica laughed, and then looked thoughtful for a moment. She looked me in the eye, seemed to come to a decision about something, and said, "I want to get married."

I raised my eyebrows. Monica frowned and said, "I scared you, didn't I?"

"No, just surprised me. You don't seem the type."

Monica smiled. "What is 'The Type'?"

"That I don't know. I know what it isn't, like you. You're wild and unpredictable."

"And those types don't marry?"

"I'm not sure they should," I said. Monica looked at me with a question in her eyes. I took a breath. "My mom was wild and unpredictable. Dad says that's what attracted him to her. She was always the life of the party, and when there was no party she created one, even after they got married. But when I came along...my dad says she probably wasn't ready for it." I felt the corners of my mouth turn down. "But I think she just couldn't handle responsibility. She told my dad he wasn't making enough just doing studio work and that she hated living in our apartment. Then one day, Mom just took off. Left a note saying she was going to Hollywood to become an actress. No one ever heard from her after that."

Monica was silent for a while. The she said, "So you think I shouldn't get married?"

I swallowed. "I just think you better be sure you want what comes with it."

Monica was silent again for a moment. I watched her thinking, and something came over me in that moment. Before I could even process the thought, the words came out of my mouth. "I love you."

She looked at me wide eyed. I forced a smile. "Now I scared you. Sorry."

Suddenly Monica smiled. "I read somewhere that something worth having should scare you a little."

I leaned in and we shared a slow, sensual kiss that felt like it should never end.

I avoided calling Jess. Lying on the couch, I listened to music and tried to sort things out in my head. I was torn between wanting the feeling I'd had with Monica again and dreading the loss that could come with it. Eventually the thoughts of Monica became too much again and I popped a pill. Welcome to oblivion.

The next day I was working in the video store. Bob was in his office, hiding from the strained conversations we'd had since the nut launching. The store was dead and towards the end of my shift I got sick of watching movies, so I turned on the local news. It was all the usual fun stories involving death, destruction, and mayhem, perfectly uplifting for someone just recovering from a loss. Jiminy Cricket came in, grabbed his porno and checked out. When I looked back at the screen there was a graphic over the shoulder of the newscaster with the words "Half body found." I found the remote and turned up the volume.

"...the right half of her body was found in the river this morning. Police divers are still searching for the other half. She was naked, which has hampered police efforts to identify her. The woman appears to be in her late teens to early twenties, five foot six with red hair and blue eyes. Anyone with information about this gruesome killing can contact..."

I felt like I was going to be sick. While I didn't particularly care for Dushca, no one deserved to die like that. There was a moment when I almost picked up the phone to call the police and give an anonymous tip about Tyler. But I realized with caller ID they'd find me. I could do it from a pay phone, but finally decided against it altogether. Still, there was something I needed to do.

Jess was living in a small, rundown apartment building that used to be a motel. I didn't need to be buzzed in, and I walked right up to her door on the second floor and knocked. I saw the curtains on the large window next to the door move, and then the door flung open wide. Jess stood there in a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a Misfits T-shirt. There was a huge smile on her face. I spoke before she could say anything. "Jess, I can't do this."

The smile dropped. She swallowed hard and said, "Well come in. At least we can talk about –"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Jess couldn't have looked more dejected at that moment, or any moment for that matter. The hurt look on her face almost stopped me. But then I thought about Duscha. "I read the note, and I'm not saying I don't feel it too. But I can't. Not right now."

The skin on her face looked tight, like she was holding back showing her emotions again. Jess' voice cracked as she spoke. "But why?"

"It's too soon. After what happened with Monica...I just can't set myself up for that kind of pain again."

"Well, couldn't we just hang out for now? Like friends?"




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 03



I shook my head. "We could never be just friends. You know that."

Jess' face twisted and she turned away from me. I almost lost it right there, and I was either going to start crying or grab her and kiss her if I didn't control myself. But before I had a chance to do anything Jess looked back at me and said, "Well maybe we shouldn't be together." Her face took on an angry look. "I had something horrible happen to me too, but I got through it. I had strength and courage and pushed myself to trust again. And I know that I don't have time for someone who's going to be weak. Someone who's going to be afraid every time..."

Without finishing her sentence Jess slammed the door in my face.

By the time I got to my car I was crying. So I popped a pill and started driving to Renee's. We had a party that night and I wanted to ask about Duscha. I wasn't sure how Renee would react, and I figured I owed it to her to let her know what I'd heard. The drug had kicked in by the time I was at Renee's but I didn't feel any less sorrow about Jess. I found Zhi in the living room preparing for the evening by organizing sex toys. "Where's Renee?" I asked.

Without looking up from her work, Zhi said, "Not coming down until later. She has a big surprise."

"What the fuck happened with Duscha?"

Zhi stopped and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "You heard?"

"It was on the news. What happened?"

"Do not worry about it."

"But Tyler..."

"It has been taken care of. Tell you about it later." She picked up the tray of toys and started carrying it out of the room. Then she stopped and turned. "We have a party to put on."

An hour later the guests started arriving and Zhi and I were on a cushioned table. I was lying down with Zhi between my legs, eating me out. A middle aged blonde woman came up to me and started fondling my breasts, running her hands slowly over them and teasing the undersides with her fingertips. Looking at her hair reminded me of Jess. I pushed the thought out of my mind as she started rolling my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. Finally the blonde woman leaned down and started licking my left nipple. Zhi was teasing me by licking and sucking my clit until I was on the edge, then moving her tongue down to my hole and licking around it until she decided to start on my clit again. Redhead came up and started licking my right nipple. Butch Cut was standing behind her with a drink in her hand, watching the proceedings. 

I'd managed to get Jess off my mind for a while, but seeing the blonde woman brought her up again. I kept trying to tell myself that my feelings for her were just a part of grieving over Monica, that you shouldn't fall in love with someone that fast. But I remembered how quickly I'd fallen for Monica, and how it took a little time to convince her to give me a chance. Had I done something terribly stupid today?

I needed to cum badly. When Zhi started sucking on my clit again I put my hands on the heads of both women at my breasts. They got the message and switched to sucking on my nipples. That drove me over the edge and I started shaking as I came. Zhi pulled her head up and the crowd applauded. Redhead stuck her fingers between my legs, scooped up some of the juices and offered it to her girlfriend. Butch Cut sucked on the fingers. Then she pulled Redhead to her and they shared a quick but passionate kiss, after which they looked longingly into each other's eyes. Watching them reminded me why I had to cut off Jess. I loved her, I could admit that, and I didn't want any kind of harm to come to her, especially because of me. Honestly, I didn't want anyone to come to harm because of me.

"Now that's how to start an evening!"

The words came from above. Everyone's attention turned to the top of the staircase, where Renee stood.

"What do you think of my new look?" she asked.

Renee wore a white satin robe that hung open; showing off her newly shaved pussy. Her hair had been straightened and was cut shoulder length. But that wasn't all that was different about it. The crowd cheered and applauded.

Renee smiled and said, "I've heard blondes have more fun."

*

The conclusion in Part 4 – Somebody's Gonna Get Shot!

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A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 04



DISCLAIMER – This is a fictional story to be read and enjoyed. If you can't read, stop reading. If you can't enjoy, stop reading. If you don't like any of the story codes mentioned above, stop reading. If you can't stop, it's not my problem.

Part 4 – Somebody's Gonna Get Shot

The next morning I woke up in Renee's bed. I looked at her hair and felt a growing tightness in my stomach. What did this mean? Was Andy's vision bound to come true no matter who I kicked out of my life? How could I stop someone else from dying?

I slid out from the covers and slipped out the door. Walking naked through the big, empty, cavernous house made me think of myself as a streaker without an audience. I went down the stairs and into the parlor to put on my clothes. 

Just as I finished getting dressed, the door opened and Zhi slipped in. "You are leaving?"

"Yes, for good." I said. "And you should to come with me."

She shook her head. "I cannot."

As Zhi stood there I remembered how I couldn't guess her age the first time I'd met her. Looking at her now I realized she was at the younger end of that spectrum. 

"It's dangerous here," I said as I stood up and walked over to her. "Renee is screwing over Tyler and he knows it."

She shook her head vigorously. "Not anymore. Duscha was…" Zhi took in a breath and let it out. "She betrayed Renee. There is woman who comes to the parties, owns model agency. She has friend who deals drugs, and he wanted some of Renee's clients. The woman made deal with Duscha, if she got some of Renee client names, woman would help Duscha get modeling career. But woman lied, and after Duscha got her names she didn't do anything."

"But Renee found out."

Zhi snorted. "Not found out. Duscha told Renee what happened. She wanted revenge on modeling woman and thought Renee would go after her. But she took out her anger on Duscha instead. Renee told Tyler that Duscha was one stealing, when she transport money. So now Tyler thinks Renee didn't do anything wrong."

I shook my head. "Maybe Renee believes that, but I don't. Tyler didn't just kill Duscha…he tortured her. Probably wanted to know if she still had any of his money. You can bet your ass she told him everything."

"Then why is he not here now?"

"Because he wants Renee to think her plan worked, give her time to let her guard down."

Zhi gave me a cynical look. "How do you know all this?"

I gave a slight chuckle. "Too many detective novels." Then I turned serious and said, "It really is dangerous around here. Why not leave?"

Zhi sighed, and then looked straight into my eyes. "I had very little in my country, job that barely gave me place to live and food to eat. Like so many, I wanted more. Then man offered me passage to America. I came in one of those…" she struggled with the words, "cargo containers. Many of us packed together. None knew what expected of us when we arrived. Not until they separate women from men." I swallowed hard as she continued. "But I was lucky. Renee did not want, how do you say it?"

"Damaged goods," I guessed.

"Yes. She was able to look at girls early. She picked me. Now I live in this house and want for nothing."

"What about freedom?"

Zhi's eyes went to the floor. "Sometimes you have to give up something to get what you want."

In that moment, I suddenly understood the sadness I'd seen in Zhi's eyes. She had come here with high hopes for the chance of more in her life, but in the process she had lost something – her innocence.

Before I could think anything further, Zhi was speaking again. "Renee has given me so much. I cannot just leave her after that."

I nodded and put my hand on her shoulder. "Remember," I said, "what she did to Duscha. Just because you have loyalty to someone doesn't always mean they deserve it."

When I got to my car I looked back and saw Zhi standing at the door. She smiled and waved. I realized I didn't get the chance to ask her what the tattoo on her ass meant. It didn't really matter. Driving away from the house that day was the last I ever saw of her.

I found myself cruising around with no direct destination in mind. I didn't want to go home and I wasn't scheduled to work at the store until later. What Zhi said about giving up something to get what you want was stuck in my head, that and Jess. It reminded me of something, something that happened with Monica.

We were still up at the cabin. Monica told me she wanted to fulfill one of my fantasies and do a nude hike. We'd still wear boots and backpacks, but other than that we were naked in the wilderness. It felt strange walking outside for so long in my birthday suit, but it also felt liberating. Being out in nature, surrounded by trees and dirt and rocks and sunshine, I realized this is how our ancestors lived, and I started questioning if it was such a good idea to stray so far from our origins. Maybe my body was getting too much oxygen.

When we reached a peak on this one hill I knew it was time to take out my surprise. The peak overlooked the horizon and gave a beautiful view of the valley. I said we should rest for a while and take off our backpacks and boots. Up to that moment I wasn't sure if Monica had a slight suspicion of what I was planning, but when she gasped as I got down on one knee I knew she had no idea.

"Mon, I love you. I can't imagine life without you, so I wanted to ask for your hand in marriage. Please be mine, forever." They were haunting words now that I remember them.

"But…I thought with what happened with your parents, and how I'm like your mom…I thought marriage scared you."

I smiled. "A beautiful woman once told me that something worth having should scare you a little."

Tears ran down her face as she said, "Yes."

I tried to look confused and said, "Is that yes, you said that, or yes, you'll marry me?"

Monica smiled through the tears and kneeled down to kiss me.

The next night we had our batchelorette party. I had planned the whole thing, including bringing booze and some pot. We built a small fire near the cabin and danced around it, the portable stereo belting out our favorite CD's. Eventually our lips found each other and we kissed for a long time. The CD changed and the sounds of Daft Punk came through the speakers. Monica broke away from the kiss and pushed me back. 

"I've got a surprise for you now," she said. Monica led me over to a rock and told me to sit. "Close your eyes."

I did so and then I heard a rustling sound. She had brought a small duffel bag and refused to tell me what was in it. The sound of tinkling bells confused me.

"Am I supposed to salivate now?" I asked.

"Ha ha," she said. "I thought this was going to be the big surprise of the trip, but you outdid me."

"Ha ha," I responded.

"Actually, this kind of works with it. You know how I was telling you I was going to exercise classes on Wednesday nights?"

"Telling me as in lying to me?"

"It's still a form of exercise."

Then the music stopped. I heard her changing CD's. The next thing I heard was some kind of Arabic music.

"Open up," Monica said.

I did and then gasped. Monica was wearing a belly dancer's outfit, with a bikini top that had beads hanging around the edge and a long skirt with a paisley pattern. She wore a waist chain and anklets around each foot, and all three were the kind that had little bells on it. Around her head was some kind of head necklace that had an amulet resting on her forehead, and there were bracelets on her wrists with chains attached to rings on her fingers.

Monica started moving to the music as she approached, her hips swaying in a seductive rhythm. When she stopped in front of me her belly was inches from my face. It started rolling, making the bells ring and looking like it was calling me to it. Monica's hands moved over my head and down around the sides of my face, around front and up again. She never made physical contact with me, but I was as turned on as I would have been if she were eating my pussy. Okay, maybe not that turned on, but I was on my way there.

Monica must have sensed this, because she looked down at me and said, "Play with yourself."

She didn't have to say it twice. My fingers went between my legs while my other hand started playing with a nipple. Monica stepped back and danced with her hips, while her upper body and legs were almost still, making her hips look like they were a separate entity from the rest of her body. She moved in close again while she did this. The skirt hung very low on her waist and her belly was practically calling to me. I moved my head close and went to lick it, but Monica grabbed my head in her hands and pushed it back. The way she did it was graceful, almost like it was an actual move of the dance.

She turned suddenly and danced away from me, shaking her rear in the most enticing way. I leaned back on the rock and slid a finger inside of me. Swinging around again, Monica moved wildly as the tempo of the music picked up. Her arms flailed around as her torso gyrated to the beat. Then in a flash her hand moved and suddenly the skirt was unclasped and she whipped it around over her head. But what really interested me was further down. Monica wore a low-slung G-string with beads hanging off every inch of it.

I added another finger inside my pussy. Monica tossed the skirt away and started dancing toward me again, her arms above her head and her hips moving back and forth. By the time she got to me I had both fingers fucking my pussy hard. Monica let her legs straddle the rock so that she was able to bring her belly close to my face again. The way she moved made the beads of her underwear shake, and made me want what was underneath even more. I leaned in and this time she didn't stop me when I stuck out my tongue and licked her belly. Dragging my tongue all over made Monica moan a little. I got slapped in the face by the bells of the waist chain, but it was worth the punishment. I stopped licking and continued to finger myself as Monica shook her body hard, the music reaching a crescendo and then ending. Suddenly I felt my hand being pulled away from my pussy and Monica's tongue going to work. It didn't take much, and I soon yelled, "Oh God, oh my fucking…Monica!" It was one of the most earth shattering orgasms I'd ever had. She continued to lick and added her fingers and suddenly I was going again until there was another climax. Moncia climbed on top of me and kissed me on the lips. I could taste my honey, and opened my mouth as I pulled her tight to me. I could feel the sweat on both our bodies and feel my heart beating out of my chest. I could swear I felt hers too.

After the kiss Monica looked at me and smiled. "Oh my God," she said. "That class was worth every fucking penny."

Still trying to catch my breath, I said, "Uh huh. We should write a letter of endorsement."

The evening after that was our wedding. We did it at sunset on that same peak where I proposed to her. I had brought a veil for each of us and we found some wild flowers that day to use as bouquets. I'd also brought white anklets and waist chains that had little wedding bells on them. That morning we trimmed our pubic hairs in the shape of hearts (hers looked better than mine, I've never been an artist with shears). After exchanging rings, we made love there on the peak, bringing each other to numerous orgasms. It was one of those moments that defined my life, and I thought it would give me nothing but wonderful memories. Never did I imagine those memories would one day hurt.

I was still trying to sort out all my thoughts and feelings when I arrived at the video store. It was obvious that Jess and I had something very special between us, and I knew it would be stupid of me to let that go. But after losing Monica and hearing Andy's premonition, the very thought of going through all of that again made my body feel cold and hollow. Still, could I trust Andy's premonition? Should I? I kept telling myself I didn't believe in those things, kept thinking about what my dad would say about it, but my brain was plagued with one question – "What if?" My thought process was interrupted when Jiminy Cricket came in. He grabbed a porno and I checked him out without a word. I didn't want to upset him any more than I already had.

He started for the door, stopped and came back to the counter. In a raised voice he said, "Yeah, I'm worried about my wife catching me renting pornos. She fucking hates pornos. But goddammit, I do it anyway." He pointed a finger at me. "'Cause nobody is going to tell me how to live my life. Not her, not you, not anybody!" He walked out at a normal pace, with his head held high and proud. 

And that was the moment I knew I was going to put Jess in my life.

When my shift was over I went to the mall and bought a few things. Then I rushed over to Jess' place. She wasn't there. I sat in the parking lot and waited, fighting the urge to take a pill. I wanted one really bad. My nerves were on end over how this would go, since Jess got angry and slammed a door in my face the last time we talked. But I was even more nervous that she'd notice my state if I took a pill, because then our conversation would become about things I didn't want to deal with.

It must have been a night for her classes, because two hours went by without Jess showing up. Then I started to wonder if she was out on a date. Wonder turned to worry, and I found myself reaching for my stash. But I hesitated when a city bus pulled up at the stop across the street. When it drove away Jess was standing there, holding some books. She spotted my car before she crossed the street and stood there for a moment, staring. I got out of the car. She walked over and stopped a few feet in front of me. The look on her face was guarded.

I said, "I want to give us a shot."

Her look went from guarded to disbelief. "Yesterday you were certain you didn't."

"Believe it or not, a lot's happened since yesterday."

"Were you high yesterday?"

I sighed. "Not when I talked to you."

"Are you high now?"

"No. Look, I haven't exactly been behaving normal lately. Ever since Monica died…I don't know what the right decisions are anymore. I mean, when you're in a relationship with someone, you get used to having them be your safety net. When I got confused or overwhelmed by something, Monica always helped me figure it out. And she did it by reminding me what I believed, not just what she thought. She used to say that creative people like me could come up with great ideas but couldn't organize them for shit."

"So what are you saying?" Jess asked. "That you couldn't organize what you felt about me?"

"I know how I feel about you," I said. "It's the only thing I've felt certain about since I lost Monica. But I wasn't sure if I was rushing into things for the wrong reasons. I don't want you in my life because I miss what I had with Monica. I want you in my life because I want you."

Jess didn't respond and we stood there silently. I curled my hands into fists and felt the sweat on my palms. Then Jess took a few steps forward until she was right in front of me.

"So how do I know you won't change your mind again?" she asked.

"You don't," I said, "but if this is something you want, you need to go for it anyway."

I leaned in and kissed Jess. She didn't resist, and soon we were embraced in a full-blown passionate kiss. The tongue stud caught me by surprise again. As the kiss ended I could hear both of us breathing hard, like we'd just run a marathon. "Let's go upstairs," she said.

The apartment was a single room with a double bed, dresser, a table with two chairs and a TV on a small stand. It was basically a motel room, with the bathroom opposite the front door. A laptop sat on the table and when I looked I noticed her computer desktop was a picture of me, the one Bob must have sent. I realized that Monica had been in the picture and that he had somehow taken her out. I tried not to think of the symbolism.

Jess turned and noticed that I was looking at the computer. Embarrassed, she folded down the screen. "I, um…don't think I'm some obsessive nut or anything."

"Why? Is that a bad thing?"

We smiled at each other. Then I held up the bag in my hand. "Something for you," I said.

Jess was a little hesitant as she took the bag. "Uh, thanks." She opened it, looked at me and then down into the bag. "I don't mean to sound like I don't appreciate this, but these aren't really my style."

"Style is one thing, how you feel about yourself is another. Why don't you try them on?"

Jess looked up at me, her face filled with worry. "I'm not going to look good in these."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that. C'mon, do a little modeling show for me."

I hopped on the bed while Jess grudgingly went into the bathroom. There was a magazine on her nightstand and I flipped through it as I waited. A minute later she came out, still wearing her T-shirt and jeans.

"I can't do it," she said.

"Why not?"

"I told you, I know I'm not going to look good in them."

"So you didn't even try them on?" I said. "Not even to look at them for yourself? Is this the same girl that gave me a speech about courage and then slammed a door in my face?"

Jess stood there for a moment, then sighed and slumped her shoulders as she went back into the bathroom. I went back to reading the magazine, which was about computers. It was real tech-head stuff, and after a few minutes I gave up trying to decipher it. Just as I put it down the bathroom door opened, and several seconds went by before she slowly stepped out. I could feel the smile grow on my face. She had put on the red thong and matching lacy red bra. The whip marks were visible, as were the edges of the crosses on her crotch and the round burns on her breasts. But her tattoos and belly button piercing were also visible.

"Turn around," I said.

When she did I could see all the whip marks on her back. But there was also a large blue dragon tattoo on her upper back where there were no marks, and she had a tattoo of a sun on her left butt cheek and a moon on her right.

"You're beautiful," I said.

Jess looked over her shoulder. "I look like a model for an S&M magazine," she said.

I laughed out loud. Jess cut it off with a serious look. "Oh come on!" I said. "I can't help it. You keep saying funny things, that's not fair."

Her hand came around to her back and pulled at the thong. "I never liked these. Feels like dental floss up my ass."

"Well I happen to think they're sexy," I said. "Now go try on the other one."

Jess shook her head. "I think that one's going to be worse."

"You never know until you try," I said as she shut the door. I picked up another magazine from her nightstand, this one about tattoos. There were pictures of people with large tattoos and some with tons of small ones. I thought some of those small ones might look good on me, and started thinking about where I might get one when the door opened again. This time Jess strode out and stopped in a pose with a hand on her hip.

"Wow!" I said. "That looks great on you."

She was wearing a black bra with sheer cups, making her nipple rings visible, and a black V-string with a white bow on the front. She turned around to show me the back. "It's kind of weird," she said, and ran a finger along the string in her crack, "but I actually like this one better."

"Wait a second," I said. "A thong feels like dental floss in your ass, but the V-string is better?"

"Less material up there to bother me," she said.

I shrugged. "Okay," I said as I slid off the bed and guided her to the mirror. Standing behind Jess as she looked at herself, I put my lips in her ear and said, "You look really sexy."

Jess closed her eyes, took a breath and opened them. "Listen, I really appreciate what you're trying to do here. But it's going to take more than a few pairs of sexy underwear to make me feel better about the fact that I look like I lost a fight with a paper shredder."




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 04



I bit my lip. Suddenly, Jess gave a smile. "It's okay," she said. You can laugh at that one."

I let go and Jess laughed too. I hugged her and started stroking her body. "I was kind of hoping," I said, "that you would wear these on our second date."

Jess chuckled. "Is this your way of asking me out on a second date?"

"I figured if you were willing to try on underwear for me, that a date wouldn't be that a big deal."

"When's this date going to happen?"

"You free tomorrow night?"

"Yep. Can I decide where we go?"

"Sure."

We stood there quietly for a few minutes. I was still hugging her from behind with my head on her shoulder, and Jess was looking at herself in the mirror.

"Do me a favor?" she asked. I looked into her eyes in the mirror and gave a small nod. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Sure," I said.

Jess went to the bathroom to change while I stripped down to my thong and bra and climbed onto the bed. When Jess came out of the bathroom she wore a long nightshirt with Snoopy on it. She kneeled at the side of the bed.

"This'll only take a minute."

I nodded and went back to reading the tattoo magazine. A minute later Jess climbed onto the bed and lay next to me. I looked at her and said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, I'm a natural blonde," she said, and smiled.

I smiled back. "Not that, stupid." Then I swallowed the lump in my throat and asked, "Why do you still pray?"

Jess' brow furrowed. "Because that's how I was raised."

"That's not…" I stopped and thought about how to better phrase my question. "I just figured religious was the last thing you'd be, after what your parents did to you."

Jess shook her head in a way that told me she'd been asked this before. "But my parents are the one's that did it to me, not religion. There are plenty of people out there who are religious and handle having a gay kid better than my folks did. Besides, I'm not going to go back on what I believe just because they had a fucked up view of it."

We were quiet for a few moments while I digested her point of view. Then she said, "So I guess you're not very religious."

"Not really, unless you consider music a denomination. My father taught me that people worry too much about what they can't see and not enough about what's right in front of their faces."

"That's one way of looking at it," Jess said as she cocked her head to the side. "So, are we going to have a deep discussion all night, or are you going to let me ravish you?"

I held up a finger. "One ravishing, please."

Jess laughed, and then leaned towards me so our foreheads and noses touched. She stayed there for a moment before moving in and kissing my lips. The soft touch of her skin actually made me feel warm inside, and reminded me of what I'd felt when I kissed her that morning after the first date. The kiss became more intimate (I was ready for the tongue stud this time) and our hands started exploring each other's bodies. Jess rolled me onto my back and climbed on top while continuing the kiss. Then she started kissing down the side of my face until she reached my neck, which she sucked on with her lips while her teeth pressed lightly against it. That drove me wild and I started moaning loudly. I could feel the wetness between my legs as I pressed them together.

After doing the same to the other side of my neck, Jess kissed her way down to my chest. She pressed her nose against a cup of my bra, moving it in slow circles. Then she put her mouth on the material and used her teeth to lightly graze the area. I could feel my nipple harden, and when Jess' teeth found it she gave it a few soft bites. The feeling of her doing this through the material was getting me good and worked up. Jess used her hands to slide the straps of my bra off my shoulders and slid it down. Then one of her hands moved between my legs and stated pressing against my sex while the tip of her tongue started licking around my nipple in slow circles, moving in until it flicked the hard nub of sensitive flesh. A low moan escaped me as she started teasing it, and I finally let go with a gasp when she sucked with her lips. While Jess gave the other one the same treatment she looked up at me, and our eyes met. I noticed the pain I'd seen there when we first met didn't seem as present. A mixture of desire and animal lust had replaced it, and suddenly I felt like I'd accomplished something that night.

Jess stopped toying with my nipple and sat up on her knees while her hands rubbed up and down on my stomach and sides. I had the urge to reach over and pull her nightshirt off, but I realized she might not be comfortable with me doing that. I reminded myself to take it slow, that her putting on the lingerie was a big step already. Jess' fingers were getting me excited, her light touch created a great feeling of anticipation of what was to come. She traced the edge of my belly button with her finger, then leaned down and traced it with her tongue.

I felt even more anticipation when I realized she'd soon be doing that to my pussy. My wait wasn't long as Jess crawled down and pulled my thong off. I lifted my legs to make it easier for her, but before I could bring them down she grabbed my ankles. Jess started with my left foot, licking and sucking on my toes and then the underside. She did the same to my right foot, her hand playing with the metal-link anklet I wore. Jess put my foot down and moved between my legs, her eyes intent on my cunt as she ran her hands on my crotch and slid her fingers over my lips. I spread my legs wide to give her better access.

"Oh yeah," I moaned. Jess looked up at me and smiled. That made me happy, but she never seemed to give a wide smile, teeth and everything. I'd have to work on that.

Her head went down and I felt her fingers spread me open. When Jess' tongue made contact I felt the softness I expected and a little hardness that I didn't. Then I remembered her tongue stud. The damn thing surprised me again. It was close to the tip of her tongue, and every time she licked I could feel it, which was great because the thing really added something. But Jess' style was sloppy, her tongue was all over the place, and it occurred to me she might be a little inexperienced. I wasn't going to complain though, because for me, feelings are more essential than sexual prowess. Knowing you're with someone you care about is more important at the beginning, while learning how to please each other in bed comes over time. Unless, of course, you're having a one-night stand.

But just because Jess was sloppy didn't mean she was failing at bringing me to orgasm. I was on my way up the ladder, and when she pushed a finger inside me I grabbed my legs behind my knees and pulled myself wide open. Her tongue licked faster as her finger moved in and out of my hole. I kept moaning and occasionally yelling words of encouragement. Jess brought me to the edge three times before finally sending me over. When that happened I called out her name once, and then dropped my legs.

Jess crawled up to me and started kissing my face. I brought my lips to hers and tasted myself as we shared little lingering kisses. Finally our mouths opened and our tongues met in a warm, wet embrace. The kiss continued as we rolled onto our sides, our bodies pressed together and our hands roaming. I moved one of mine under the edge of her nightshirt and massaged her butt. That made her moan, and she grabbed at my ass and squeezed. Jess wasn't wearing any underwear, so I moved into her crack and slid my fingers up and down. 

When I started feeling around for her rosebud, Jess suddenly broke the kiss. "What are you doing?"

"I was…looking for your butt hole. Are you not into that?"

She just stared at me.

I said, "I'm sorry. The way you reacted when I touched your butt…I assumed, and I shouldn't have done that."

Jess stared at me for a moment longer. "It's okay," she said. "I've never really…tried that." She didn't sound upset, and I wondered if she was curious about it. But I decided not to push the subject.

"Well, if you ever want to try it, let me know. I've had some experience."

She nodded. We got under the covers before kissing some more and finally falling asleep.

I was woken up the next morning by the sound of a slamming door. There were sounds of people talking and walking past the window. As they faded I looked to the other side and was surprised to see Jess already awake, leaning on her arm and staring at me.


"Morning," she said.

I rubbed my eyes. "Is it that already?"

"Unfortunately. I have to get to work."

I looked at the clock. "Me too." 

Out of the blue, Jess asked, "Did you enjoy what I did last night?"

"Yeah," I said. I didn't feel like getting into criticism right then.

Jess smiled. "Good. I was worried."

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, I, um, haven't exactly had much…experience." Jess sighed and said, "Truth is I've only been in two relationships before. But one of them taught me a lot, and I read how-to books and sex stories. I know that doesn't make up for actual experience, but…" She shrugged.

I was about to tell her that she shouldn't feel self-conscious about that kind of thing, but then I realized sexual abilities were important to her because she thought they could make up for how she looked physically. I stroked her arm and said, "Really? I couldn't tell."

It was one of those little lies you sometimes say at the start of a relationship, either to spare fragile feelings or keep sour notes from screwing things up too early.  You tell yourself that if things go far enough you'll be able to tell the truth later, and if they really care about you they'll understand and be forgiving. Sometimes you eventually bring it up, sometimes you don't, and sometimes you find more subtle ways of getting the message across. I had a feeling that with Jess, on this particular subject, subtle was the way to go.

"Sorry I don't have anything to eat," she said.

I rolled on top of her. "Oh yes you do."

Jess gave me her muted smile again. "Don't even start, we don't have the time."

I kissed her on the lips. "You're denying me my recommended daily allowance?"

"Of what, vitamin P?"

I laughed. "How about we take a shower together? Do two things at once."

In the bathroom Jess hesitated before taking off her nightshirt. I made sure to smile at her while looking at her body, running my hands up and down her sides. Once we got in the shower, the only two things we managed to do at the same time was each other, using our fingers until we both came. After we washed each other's hair I ran my hands down her back and over her butt.

"How does it feel?" she asked. "Back there."

"It's different," I said. "At first I wasn't jumping at the thought of it, but when I finally experienced the sensations I really liked it.  The important thing is you've got to start out slow, too many people get turned off by not easing into things.""


Jess nodded. Then she said, "I think I'd be willing to try it, if you'd be willing to show me."

I gave her a sly smile. "Depends. You need to pay the fee first"

"What's the fee?"

"A kiss."

Jess leaned in and took my lower lip between both of hers, played with it a little, and then moved into a slow, smoldering kiss that literally made my knees weak. The girl may need some lessons in eating pussy, but she really knows how to kiss. When it was over she asked, "Does that get me the lessons?"

"Baby," I said, "that buys you the school." I grabbed a bottle of liquid soap and poured some onto the tips of my fingers and rubbed it over her rosebud. Then I squeezed some more onto my pinkie finger.

I said, "If you start to feel uncomfortable, let me know." She nodded and I positioned my finger and started rubbing it around her asshole. Jess closed her eyes. After a few moments I pressed against her hole lightly, went back to rubbing for a few seconds and then pressed again. I repeated the process twice more before it relaxed enough to let me in. Jess gave a sharp intake of breath and I stopped. When she didn't say anything for a few moments I continued pressing in until I reached my first knuckle. Then I let it sit there for a few moments before I wiggled the finger around a little. Jess took in a sharp breath again, but let it out slow, and then she let out a low moan. I moved my finger in and out slowly, gradually making it in to the second knuckle. I wiggled it around again and Jess moaned again. Moving closer to her, I started kissing and licking her neck. Jess made a mewing sound and I slowly moved my finger in and out, never going past the second knuckle. I loved feeling her body pressed up against mine, our skin touching, and me giving her pleasure.

Finally I slid my finger out. "That's all for now. Did you like it?"

"Mmmm. More than I thought I would," she said. "I think I'm looking forward to the next lesson."

I kissed her and said, "Me too."

I dropped her off at work and went to the video store in a daze. I was elated and satisfied and nervous all at once, and for the rest of the day I had butterflies in my stomach. I couldn't sit still, and kept straightening up everything two and three times. It was that kind of anticipation that comes when you're excited about something new in your life. I was so up that I didn't notice I hadn't taken a pill for eighteen hours, at least until lunchtime, when I looked in my bag and saw my stash. I knew I couldn't last all day and night without one, so I tossed a little white pill down my throat. Just to maintain.

Bob came out of his office at one point to get something behind the counter. Suddenly he stopped and looked at me.

"You're wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday."

"Yep."

He dropped the binder he was holding. "You sold your wardrobe for pills?"

"Nope."

Bob stared at me for a moment. Then he came near me and started sniffing. Suddenly his eyes widened. "You got laid last night."

"Bob, there is no way in hell you can smell that on me."

"Yep, you got laid." Bob picked up the binder and walked to his office. "You can thank me later," he said before shutting the door.

"Asshole," I said to myself.

The day didn't move fast enough for me. Every time I looked at the clock it seemed to tick slower. Then we had a rush and suddenly I looked up and it was time to go. I dashed home, showered, and narrowed my choices down to outfits three, four and eight. Four won for reasons I can't explain, but mostly because I ran out of time. I shot over to Jess' and picked her up. She was wearing a black skirt, red blouse and combat boots. Before she got in the car she turned around, lifted the skirt and flashed me her bare ass, thanks to my gift. She got in and we kissed and I didn't want it to end. The only reason she stopped it was because we had reservations. She directed me to this Thai restaurant that I'd heard about but never went to because it was very popular and hard to get a table. I asked her how she got one.

"The dentist I work for. He does the owner's teeth."

We sat at our table and I told her I loved Thai food.

"I know, you told me in your email. Well, I guess Bob told me."

We made very small talk until our waiter came to take our drink orders and give us menus. It was strange, she knew everything about me already thanks to Bob, and I was hesitant to bring up her past. Looking at the menus and talking about our dinner options gave us something else to focus on for a while. Once we ordered we talked about little things, I mostly found out about her current life and tastes and she listened to me talk about Monica some, which Bob hadn't mentioned. By the time dinner came, I was worried we'd exhausted all our conversation options except her past. But then she started talking about music and that sustained us for the entire meal.

Afterwards the check came quickly. We fought over it, and finally agreed to split it. Returning to my car, Jess directed me to a local art gallery with night hours. We had tons of fun admiring, mocking, and contemplating some of the work. After that we went to this dessert bar, found out we both love coconut and split a piece of coconut cake. Right after we were finished I remembered about Ronald and told her what happened.

"My super wants to buy you dinner," I said.

"Free of charge," she said. "I hate racists. Not to mention homophobes and sexists, and people who can't stand it if you don't think like they do."

I smirked. "Anybody else?"

"Cold callers. I'd kick all their asses if I could."

I realized that as much as I didn't want to upset Jess by asking her about her past, my urge to know the truth was too strong. This seemed like an opportunity to ease into the subject. "From what I saw, you could do that easy. Where'd you learn to do it?"

The hurt look returned to her eyes, and I suddenly regretted my choice. But before I could say anything, Jess started talking. "Couple years after my parents…I managed to save up enough money and walked into this karate school. Just took lessons and kept practicing, day in and day out. The sensei said I was the most dedicated student he ever saw. He had no idea what was motivating me. I wasn't going to let anyone ever overpower me again."

"That's why the tattoo? Never again?"

"Yeah. It's a reminder that I have control over my life, and I'm never going to let that happen to me again."

We were quiet after that. I considered letting the subject go for the night, but looking in her eyes I realized the damage was done. Best to get it over all at once. "So, um, you said your parents did that for three months?"

Jess swallowed. "They kept me tied to the bed for three months. The whipping and burning lasted over a year."

"Did you ever go to anyone about what was happening?"

She shook her head. "No, but one of my teachers noticed my burns and got the truth out of me. After that the police and the social workers got involved, they took me away from my folks and I went into a foster home." Her eyes looked away from me. "I don't know why I didn't tell anyone sooner. I guess I didn't have the courage."

"It's not about that."

Jess' eyes came back to me, and she waited. I swallowed and said, "When I was in college, I got into a relationship with my creative design professor. She was intelligent and attractive and had a great artistic sensibility." I smirked. "Not that artistic sensibility is a requirement for me."

Jess smiled. I smiled back, but it dropped as I continued, "The first time she hit me, I…I didn't know what to think of it. We were having this little disagreement, not some big argument. But she was known for having a quick temper, especially in the classroom, and I just, excused it in my head by figuring she couldn't control her anger that time." I sighed. "But it wasn't just that time. And whenever it happened I came up with an excuse. She was angry with her other students and took it out on me, she was bitter because she was teaching people things she wanted to go out and do herself, et cetera, et cetera. It was like I needed a justifiable reason why someone I looked up to could be like this. There was a part of me that said it was wrong, the part of me that had heard about abusive relationships and always said, 'I'd never put up with that.' But I learned there's a long distance between looking at something from the outside and being on the inside with an emotional stake."

"So what happened?"

"A friend of mine saw it happen once. She hit me right in front of him without even thinking about it. Later my friend took me aside and talked to me, reminded me to have some self-respect. So I broke up with my professor, and I started seeing a therapist at the campus free clinic."

Jess nodded and then chewed on her lip. I put my hand on hers and said, "Sometimes you get involved in a bad situation and you don't know how to handle it. That happens, and it's easy to blame yourself. And when people you care about or look up to are doing wrong things, it makes coming up with a solution a lot harder."




A Death, Baked Bob, and the... Ch. 04



"The therapist tell you that?" she asked. I nodded. Jess looked in my eyes and asked, "You still in therapy?"

"No," I said. "You don't always have to go for your whole life. Sometimes when something bad happens you can go for a little while until you're better."

"Funny you should mention that," she said. Jess took something out of her bag and slid it across the table. It was a brochure. I picked it up and looked at it. "The Sunnydale Clinic?"

"It's a rehab program," Jess said. The nervousness in her voice wasn't hard to detect. She started to say something, then stopped, got that faraway look again, and finally looked me directly in the eye. "If you want to be with me, you have to be clean first." She swallowed hard and continued. "No in-between. And don't tell me you can kick it all by your lonesome. Smoking you can give up on your own, with this stuff you need help."

I put the brochure on the table. "I don't think I can afford this."

"I talked to Baked Bob. Between him, me and some of your friends we're going to pay for it."

That surprised me. "How did you get in touch with Bob?"

"I realized that email address I was talking to must have been his. He wants you to do this." Jess leaned across the table. "And I need you to do this. After what happened with my parents…I need to be able to trust the people in my life."

Jess wore an expectant look on her face. I took in a deep breath and let it out. "Okay. I'll do it."

Jess gave a small smile and her hands took hold of mine and squeezed tight. "I know you can do this."

I smiled and squeezed back. "What I need to do right now is go to the bathroom." I got up, hoping she wouldn't notice anything funny about me bringing my bag with me.

I made sure the other two stalls were empty and went into the last one. Out of my bag came my stash. Maybe I would go into that program, but first I was going to get my head straight. Who the hell does she think she is, blackmailing me into that? And fucking Bob, once again meddling in my life, something I'll have to put an end to.

I stood in the stall looking at the pills. Part of my brain was saying, "Just put one in your mouth!" But something kept me from doing it. And then I realized that part of my brain wasn't talking so loudly anymore. There was another part, speaking over that other part. It was saying, "Jess is sitting out there. She cares about you and isn't that important to you?" 

I stood there feeling almost numb as the two parts of my brain silently worked all this out. I felt like an observer in all this. And that's when I realized why I was standing there frozen – I wasn't an observer. Both parts were making their arguments, but I had to make the decision. With that realization I moved my hand and dumped the pills into the toilet.

"Welcome to oblivion," I said as I pressed down the lever and watched the water spin, carrying the drugs to some unknown place. A little laugh escaped me as I thought of sewer rats getting high.

When I came back from the bathroom my cell phone started ringing. I shook my head and told Jess this would only take a minute. Then I spoke into the phone. "What is it?"

"My buddy the cop called. They're over at Renee's place. She's dead."

I felt my stomach turn. "What happened?"

"They're not sure yet. They caught three guys just as they were leaving her place. Someone called in a tip." Bob was silent for a moment and then spoke trying to hold in his breath at the same time. "They said…Renee was…shot. Several…times." Bob exhaled.

"They didn't find anyone else? An Asian girl?"

"No," he said. "Just Renee."

I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Zhi had taken my advice and left. Or maybe she knew enough to be nervous, saw Tyler and his men coming and ran to call the cops.

In a sincere voice, Bob said, "I'm glad you weren't there."

"I wasn't going back anyway."

"Good," he said. "I hope you learned something from all this." His voice took on this stern, fatherly tone when he said it. Suddenly I was fuming.

"Yeah, that I shouldn't trust you. You're the one who sent me to her. What the hell were you thinking?"

That caught him off guard. "I was…I was just…"

"Let me guess, you were looking out for me. Well maybe Monica was right; people like you are trouble. Goodbye Bob." I hung up the phone. Jess looked at me. "What was that about?" she asked.

"Something a long time coming," I said.

When we got back to my car I grabbed Jess and kissed her. Looking into her eyes I asked, "Do you have to be anywhere tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"You want to come back to my place?"

She smiled. "Depends. Do I get another lesson?"

"If I get another kiss."

"Oh! I thought I'd bought the school already."

I smiled. "You still have to pay the staff."

She shook her head. "You've got a dirty mind."

On the ride back we joked and laughed. I realized getting Jess to talk about her past had been a good thing. She seemed more relaxed and open, and I got the feeling she felt comfortable around me. That feeling turned out to be true as we arrived at the front of my building. We had been walking silently, holding hands, when Jess suddenly turned and said, "Do you have a strap-on?"

I grinned. "Now who's got a dirty mind?"

"It's all that religious repression I grew up with."

We laughed, and that's when it happened. Jess was looking at me and she smiled wide, teeth showing. Then she had to look down to see the steps as we walked up to my front door, but the smile was still on her face. There was a feeling of great elation inside me, and it felt so good that when I looked up it took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. Tim was standing there at the top of the stairs, a gun in his hand. It was aimed at Jess, but he didn't shoot when I saw him. I realized he was waiting for Jess to look up, wanting her to know who ended her life. 

It was in the moment he waited that so much flashed through my mind. The day I was so overjoyed about my promotion and the moment I walked through the door and realized something was wrong, those agonizing months watching Monica slowly die and not being able to do anything about it. Seeing her coffin being lowered down at the grave. Coming home and being overwhelmed by memories. Silencing those memories with drugs. Washing myself with guilt because I couldn't do anything to save her. Wallowing in self-pity because I was left here to live life without her. Hating myself for not being able to do more. And then, just two words drowned out all those thoughts.

Never again.

Just as Jess looked up I threw my body in front of hers. There was a loud pop and suddenly an explosion of white-hot pain in my chest. My brain kept fighting consciousness. I heard screaming. The next thing I knew Jess was kneeling over me, crying. Telling me she loved me. 

And then there was nothing.

















I woke up screaming.  My body was covered in sweat and I sat up in the bed.

I heard, "Keisha! Baby!"

I felt a hand on my back, its touch bringing me back to reality and soothing my nerves. I stopped screaming but I was moaning loudly, my body rocking back and forth as I tried to calm down.

"It's okay," Monica said. She put her arms around me and in a calm and soothing tone said, "It's okay. You're safe. It's okay."

I was still shaking, but my breathing slowed and I managed to speak. "It was horrible. Fucking horrible."

"It's okay now, you're safe."

I took in deep gulps of air as Monica's hand rubbed my shoulder. "I had this nightmare," I said. "You died, and I fell apart, and got addicted to drugs…and there was something about being naked in this big house. And then Bob, he set me up on this blind date, and Andy said I was going to lose someone again…and, oh I don't fucking know."

"Shhhhh," Monica said. "Don't worry, it's over now. Relax. It's just scary sleeping in a strange place, that's all." 

I looked around. Her uncle's cabin was very cozy and relaxing, but she was right, this place wasn't home. Monica guided me back down and we fell asleep hugging each other.

The next morning I woke up in the bed alone. I walked out onto the porch and enjoyed the feeling of being naked outside. The sun was shining bright and there were only a few clouds in the sky. 

Monica came walking around the side of the cabin holding flowers, which she handed to me. "Picked these up for you. Luckily they were cheap."

"Thanks," I said. We went inside and made breakfast and fed it to each other.  Then we went down to the lake and walked around to the other side, where we sat under a tree and enjoyed the setting around us. Suddenly Monica jumped up and slapped my shoulder.

"Tag, you're it!" she said and ran away. I got up and chased after her. Monica ran into the forest and I ran in after her. There were lots of trees and no path and I realized I'd lost her. I kept looking around the trees, thinking she was hiding behind one. Suddenly I felt something hit me in the head, so I looked up.

Monica was sitting on a large branch in the tree. She picked off pieces of bark and tossed them at me and giggled.

"Stop that!" I yelled.

Monica climbed down, and when she reached the base of the tree I pushed her up against it. "Gotcha," I said.

"Mmm, suppose you deserve a reward for that."

Monica was facing the tree. I brought my hand between us and slipped it between her legs. She was wet, and when I made contact with her pussy she moaned that sweet moan of hers that tells me how happy I make her. I pressed my body against hers as I started fingering her. Monica pressed back against me and I brought my other hand around front to caress her breast and pinch her nipple. She started panting and I kissed her shoulder, savoring the feel of her skin. I brought my hand down from her breast to her pussy, both hands now working either end of it. Monica called out as I worked on her faster, then slowing down to keep her on edge for as long as possible. As I brought her up again I slid the hand between us back to find her rosebud and worked my finger into her. My other hand worked on her clit, and between the two sensations Monica was screaming. Her hands pressed against the tree as if she were holding it up, and finally she let out a yelp as she came, slumping against the tree and breathing heavily.

Soon she turned around and we shared a long, passionate kiss, during which she guided us around so my back was against the tree. Then she started to lick down my body, taking the time to suck on my nipples and rim my belly button before she kneeled between my legs. Her tongue licked and sucked at my pussy while her fingers caressed along my slit, waiting for the right moment. Soon I felt Monica's finger enter me, a part of her coming inside my body and taking control, manipulating my pleasure and showing her love for me all at once. She was like a violinist playing her favorite instrument, knowing from years of practice and performance what reaction each movement will cause, taking care to be gentle while manipulating it to her will. I reached my arms up over my head and grabbed the trunk of the tree, feeling the impeding force of nature exploding within me. When she looked up at me from between my legs, all felt right with the world. 

She got up and we leaned against each other. Time stood still, and nothing outside of us mattered. If a tree fell right now, neither of us would hear it.

Suddenly I slapped her on the arm. "You're it!" I ran off and didn't look behind me to see if she was keeping up. I hid behind a tree and peeked around. Monica was nowhere to be seen. I tried controlling my breath; afraid the sound would give me away.

Then it happened. A flash. There were lights and beeping sounds and people yelling. Someone standing over me with a small knife, and suddenly there was lots of movement. And then it was gone. I leaned against the tree, not sure if what just happened was real. Then suddenly I heard, "Keish!"

I ran towards her voice. She called again and I came out of the woods. Monica was standing in front of a chair that sat on the edge of a cliff side overlooking the valley. "Look at this," she said.

That's when I noticed the chair was carved out of stone. "Wow. That is weird."

She looked at me with a mischievous grin and said, "Sit in it."

I looked at it for a moment to make sure nothing was sticking out of the seat, and then planted myself in it. The cool stone against my skin was an odd feeling. Looking out over the valley, I said, "They must have made this to sit here and watch the sunset, or the sunrise. Which way is east?"

"I think that way," she said, pointing in the direction the chair was facing.

"So this is to watch the sunrise. Do you think your uncle did this?"

"I doubt it."

I stood up, and suddenly something occurred to me. 

"I don't remember this," I said. I looked at Monica, but she was looking at the sky. I shook my head. "I don't remember finding this chair. Do you?"

All of a sudden I felt a sharp pain in my chest. But I couldn't get my mind off of what I'd just realized. "I…don't remember this part. Monica, why don't…I remember this?"

Monica turned and looked at me. She smiled, but it was a sad smile.

I started crying. "Why…why don't I remember this? Why…I don't…" And then something hit me. Something big. "Why remember?" I said. "Why do I think I should be remembering? If I'm here right now…I shouldn't…" 

Suddenly, the pain in my body turned to weakness and I fell into the chair. I couldn't move my legs, or my arms. Monica walked over and kneeled in front of me and put her hand on my face.

In a trembling voice, I said, "Mon, I'm scared."

"Don't be baby." She smiled, and this time there was warmth in it. "You're going to be fine."

Suddenly everything got blurry. Looking at her face, I concentrated hard and kept trying to focus, but it wasn't working. Just before I blacked out, I could swear I heard Monica say something about moving on.

And then I woke up for real.

The room was dark, but the light on the side of my bed was on. A curtain was drawn next to the bed. I was in a hospital. I felt something up both my nostrils, and when I went to reach for it something pulled on my arm. An IV tube. My chest felt like there was a thousand pound weight on it, but somehow I didn't have trouble breathing. I noticed a chair across from the bed, and in that chair someone was sleeping. Someone with blonde hair. I wanted to say her name, but I didn't have the strength. I passed out.

I woke up again and Jess was standing over me. She was crying and I reached out for her. Jess took my hand and I said something like, "Sadness really doesn't suit you." Then I passed out again.

Within a week I was doing better. I slept a lot, which was nice, but sometimes when I woke up there were people in my room and that surprised me. 

One such time when I woke up there was sunlight coming from the window on the left side of my bed. It was bothering my eyes so I turned to the right side and there was Baked Bob standing over me.

"You look like shit," he said.

"So do you," I replied, and he did. Bob's hair was matted down and his clothes look like he'd slept in them, yet his eyes looked like he hadn't slept at all.

"I'd better go," he said and turned to leave. I reached out and grabbed his coat.

"No," I said. "Stay."

Bob turned and looked at me. Then he sat down in the chair next to my bed. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I don't hate you," I said finally. "I'm just angry. I know you've been trying to be a good friend. But you didn't really need to say or do anything, just be there when I needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to listen when I felt like ranting. I didn't need someone trying to orchestrate things."

"But I had to."

I sighed, prepared myself for one of Bob's opinions, and asked, "Why?"

"Because Monica asked me to."

It certainly was not the answer I expected. I stared at Bob, lost in shock, until he continued.

"It was towards the end, when she was in the hospital. Monica called and asked me to come over while you were at work." Bob half-smiled to himself and looked at the wall. "I had an idea of what she was going to ask even before I got here. She said I had to be your guardian angel, to look out for you after she was gone." Bob frowned and turned his gaze back at me. "You'd been working so hard to put on a strong front that she was scared you were going to self-destruct. Monica told me I needed to make sure you moved on after she died."

I couldn't believe what Bob was telling me.

Bob sighed. "I still understand if you're angry with me. I know I don't always do things in the most logical way. My dad would probably say it was my mom's fault, 'cause she was always smoking pot around me." He shrugged. "Guess I screwed up."

I shook my head. "No. You just reminded me to have some self-respect. Again."

Bob smiled. "That's right. Am I going to have to keep doing that? Cause if I do, I'm going to need a raise."

I smiled. "And use of the company car."

A few days later Asian Andy came to see me. I had a little more strength by then, enough to get a smug smile on my face.

"So," I said. "I guess you were wrong about what was going to happen."

Andy just shrugged and said, "It was bound to happen sometime."

Jess was at the hospital every day. The nurses told me that she wouldn't leave my bedside for the first forty-eight hours I was there. Something had changed with her, and I didn't see that sadness in her eyes as much. We talked about life and our future. I didn't tell her about what Asian Andy had predicted, that conversation was defiantly going to be sometime later. At one point the police came to talk to me. They had arrested Tim and I would have to testify at his trial. 

On the day I was released Jess and I were at the curb in front of the hospital, me sitting in a wheelchair, waiting for Baked Bob to pick us up. Jess turned to me and said, "Do you think he forgot?"

"To pick us up? No. Where the hospital is? Probably. The key to being friends with Bob is knowing that he'll always be there for you when you need him, as long as you have patience and can deal with all the weird turns."

Jess chuckled. Then she said, "You know, I didn't think anything was going to top that first date. Then we go out on a second date and you get shot saving my life."

"How about this, for the third date we just go to my place and watch a movie. That should be safe enough."

"With our luck," Jess said, "there'll probably be an alien invasion that night."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In a strange coincidence, the people of planet Teionis 6 were planning to invade the Earth on the night Keisha and Jess went on their third date. Luckily they were thwarted, due to the efforts of Baked Bob and Asian Andy. But that's another story…

THE END