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Salt & Vinegar

By: Jett_73



Lena and Justine (Jus) made a cameo appearance in Wedding Night.

They were inspired by The Kills song Cheap and Cheerful. Go have a listen.

Many thanks to Warrior_Wolf for the edits and helpful advice.

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LENA

I watch Jus stroll towards the kitchen.

"Get me a coffee will you, Doll?"

She gives me the finger, without looking around.

"Hah!" She's so cute when she's rude.

I throw myself onto the couch as I hear the espresso machine firing up.

It's a gorgeous day. The breeze is playing with the drapes around the open windows of our apartment. The soft movements cut the summer sunlight, casting an infinite variety of shadow patterns onto the wall and bringing my pictures in and out of focus.

My pictures are my life. I think I've always liked pictures. A small piece of the world captured and frozen for ever. You can just look. And the more you look, the more you see. So much in so little; in just an instant. A sudden smile. A cracked pavement. The incredible inevitability of a water droplet about to fall. Shape and form. Colour. Life.

I bought my first camera when I was eleven. It was pretty shit, but I'd spend hours after school just looking through the view finder, framing my world. I even took pictures sometimes. I only kept one of those. It's over there towards the top left. It's the swing in the playground near where we lived. The day was grey and the light just right. The playground was empty, freshly wet with rain. The swing was still and close up you can see all the subtle variations in colour from years of use. I spent some of happiest times in that park. Also some of my worst. A swing: inanimate but with so many memories. And not just mine, but probably for bloody thousands of kids.

I studied photography at college and finally got some quality gear. I've had a few breaks, a few awards. I do the odd gallery showing. I now pretty much please myself. It's not a great living, but I make enough freelance to get by. After all, there's more important things than being rich.

My second favourite photo is of me. And not because it's of me. Jus took it at the beach last summer. I just about ripped her fucking head off for touching my camera. Lucky she'd taken this before I'd realised. What's surprising is how good it is. She's normally so crap with pictures. Beginner's luck. What I love is the wind just gently blowing my hair. It's over my eyes and you can't really see my face. I'm just lying there. It's not even a particularly attractive pose. No, I love it because I remember the day and I know exactly what I was thinking at the time. It was about Jus, it was fucking dirty and I get wet again every time I see that shot.

Hell, I'll be candid. I think fucking dirty way too often. I blame the photography. I like looking at beautiful things. And the more I look, the more I want. Men or women, doesn't matter. I happily do both. Separately or together. But probably more women. There's something about the curves. The sensuality, even without sex involved. Of course, I much prefer there to be fucking involved.

I find pussies absolutely fascinating. So much variety. They're all different, distinct, unique. And I can't stop at looking: the taste, the feel, the texture, the smell. The way they move and open and blossom. Changing like the seasons. From autumn to summer: warm to sweltering hot. From moist to gushing like a torrent in a gully after a sudden shower. Shades of pink and red. Hidden and bare. Proud and aggressive. Soft and delicate. Am I fixated? Absolutely. I'm like a fucking 'crack' addict: pussy is my addiction. Funny thing is, Jus doesn't seem to mind. I sleep around a shit load. Always have. Always will.

Don't get me wrong, I love a good cock as much as the next girl. There's times when you just want to have a raging hot shaft pounding into your cunt. To feel a man's heat between your legs. You can get off with toys and stuff, but nothing feels quite like the real thing. A firm, velvety rod filling your hole. Shit, I'm getting hot now just thinking about it. Fuck. Don't mind me while we talk if I just... Oh Jesus, aaahh.

Where was I? Oh, supposed to be about me. Not much else to fucking say really. I'm loud and crude. Got no time for social graces. What you see is what you get. And if you don't like what you get then that's not my fucking problem! Well, sometimes it is. With Jus, I could cut my tongue out sometimes, but I can't help myself. And she can be such a sensitive, moody bitch sometimes.

"Hey! How's that fucking coffee coming?"

----------

JUSTINE

"Yeah, almost done. I'm just pissing in it."

"Do that and you can start thinking about where I'm going to make you take that hot fucking drink!"

"Kidding stoopid! Patience. Or you could move your lazy ass from the couch and come and help."

"Can't love, I've got three fingers wet."

Over-clocked libido? Sheesh! I don't know if women have an orgasm quota. If we do, Lena's in serious trouble. She'll have run through hers by the time she's 24! The love of my life is a nut-job. A glorious, wonderful, brazen goddess. And messed up, poor girl.

I remember our first meeting. Chrissie had taken me to the gallery to meet up with some friends. She'd managed to smooch two free tickets. Probably 'smooched' something else out of the guy too, knowing Chrissie. I wandered around while we were waiting and, the more I looked, the more I felt drawn to the photographer. There was no obvious theme, but they'd all been taken with such a sense of artistry, of atmosphere: of such soul and subtle sensitivity that I was amazed. I was curious about the person. What would he or she look be like, that had managed to steal these wonderful moments from the world's canvas?

When Lena entered the room -- I didn't know it was her, of course -- it was like she had just walked off the wall. Sounds so cliché, but it's true. The same feel of latent energy and hidden soul, the same dampened fire and pregnant passion as in her photographs. She stopped under one of the downlights. The radiant gloss of her black hair, the faint sneer of contempt on her mouth, arrogance in her entire being. It was though she didn't really know why she was here, couldn't care less and didn't give a toss that other people were even in the room. I was mesmerised. She'd stolen images with her camera. She stole me in a moment.

The funny thing is she doesn't realise how beautiful and talented she is. Or, if she does, she never shows it. She doesn't preen. She doesn't present. It's almost like she is what she is and, as she'd say, 'doesn't give a fuck'. You have to know her to see the genuine sensitivity that informs her photographic genius. On the surface she's harder than cut glass. Sharp, edgy: and she'll bleed you if you're not careful. She's done that to quite a few too.

Her body is dynamite; lithe, trim and so sinuous. I've never seen anyone move quite like Lena. Just her walk -- completely unaffected -- is enough to send a priest running to confession. Guys drool over her boobs and girls love her ass. She drives them all nuts, screws them and moves on.

She's into tats. I love to lie next to her just slowly tracing the patterns on her skin. She's got a full length sleeve down one arm and a nice piece of ink on her torso on the same side. But it's the one on her thigh I like best: a delicate work of Japanese peach blossom branches entwined around her leg with a couple of small twigs just reaching out towards her groin. As if to draw you inside. There are two birds with feathers picked out in breathtaking delicacy. It's in full colour and the floral tones match my hair. I like to think she got that done deliberately, but she's never said. Not many people to get to see that one, and I think that's why I also like it so much.

Hmm, no, let me reconsider that. Plenty of people get to see it, just not in public! She's an absolute nympho. Not that she'd ever admit it. Actually I think it's worse than that. She absolutely denies it to herself because she's afraid. Secretly fears that she's somehow damaged or broken. And so she shows this exaggerated bravado to the world. Strutting around to avoid any hint of weakness. What's really sad is that she treats herself with the same contempt she treats everything else. It breaks my heart sometimes. That's why I'm here. Because someone has to give her the love she denies herself. And I couldn't bear for it not to be me.

I actually can't believe we're still together. 14 months has to be some kind of record. Life for Lena is an 'all-you-can-fuck buffet'. She gets bored as quickly as she gets horny. Probably quicker if that's actually possible. I accept she sleeps around and strangely it doesn't bother me. She certainly doesn't ignore me. If anything, sex with her when she's having a fling is more intimate, more intense. Perhaps she feels guilty, but I really don't think that's it. As I said, I don't mind. And whether it's make-up sex, guilt sex, or just plain 'I-need-to-fuck-you' sex, with Lena it's all bloody incredible!

"Are you growing that fucking coffee!?"

Geez, it's like living with a two-year old.

"Bit slow today are you babe? I thought you'd have finished yourself at least five minutes ago."

"I did! I'm onto my second, bitch, you took so long. Oh, shiiiitttt ..."

Good thing the coffee's done then. Has been for ten minutes actually. It'll be the temperature she likes by the time she gets her ass in here in a couple minutes. She drinks coffee likes she smokes. Because it looks cool rather than because she likes it, like it's expected because she's an artist. Gotta look the part. The poor dear doesn't even know the difference between a latte and a cappuccino! Couldn't tell Columbian from Java if her life depended on it. I give her the good stuff just the same though. Small things to spoil her.

"Smells good. Thanks Jus."

"Well, look who's all mellow now. How's the couch? Do I need to go sponge Lena-juice off it?"

"Ah, shit. Probably. Sorry."

"Wow, two almost-polite sentences in a row, honey! You feeling OK?"

"Hah. Try me, bitch."

There's the smile. Good girl, Lena. God, I'll do anything to see that.

----------

LENA

It's hard to know what Jus is thinking when she looks at me like that. I like to try though. Well, sort of. I also like to just look at her eyes.

It was her eyes got me that first time at the gallery. There she was just looking at me. Not staring, just looking. Sombre, unblinking. I couldn't look away. It must have been only a few moments, but it felt like years. I had to see her again, but I made myself wait. We saw each other on and off over the next two weeks. I tried to make it casual, 'accidentally' bumping into her when we were out, chance meetings over coffee with friends and such. Eventually I got Chrissie to bring her back to the gallery. I couldn't stand it any longer. I was way past even bothering with seduction. I was fucking desperate, and insane with lust. I just about raped her. Savagely. Twice. I needn't have worried. I'd expected shock, horror, repulsion: it happens often enough. Instead I got a gorgeous smile, a wonderful light in her big eyes and a soft kiss.

Her eyes are the one thing I can't capture with my camera. Oh, I've bloody tried. I've got albums full of Jus. None that you'll see on the wall out here though. I can capture the way she looks, the way she stands, the way she sleeps. But film can't capture the subtle play of light and colour deep in her eyes. The play of emotion deep in their depths as they shift from blue to grey, like clouds shifting over water. They say everything, even when she doesn't speak. Through those orbs she bares her soul to the world. I cannot comprehend such transparent honesty.

Shit, I've gone all fucking poetic. That's her influence too. She's got a shit load of books -- literature, philosophy, poetry, history. I can't say I'm much of a reader myself, but I found a poem in one of the anthology volumes once and read it to her. Can't really remember how it went now. Something about sweet, red apples being not forgotten, just not picked yet. It sort of reminded me of her. When I read it to her, her face went white and her eyes turned the deepest blue I've ever seen. She was as still as a stone for almost a whole fucking minute and then tears started rolling down her cheeks before she turned and ran into the bedroom. So bloody emotional. So much for my attempt at sensitivity: she ends up sobbing her little heart out! I had to fuck some sense into her before the silly bitch would smile for me again. And then she tells me it was the nicest thing anyone's ever said to her. Go figure.

But, hell, what would I know. She's much more clever than me. By a fucking long way. A software analyst for god's sake. She's smart and she's sweet. She's also the most selfless person I know. She's cute when she's rude and bloody annoying when she's not. Is she good in bed? She's generous, sensitive and wonderful. Is she pretty? I guess; but it doesn't matter, because to me she is fucking beautiful. And there is no way in hell that I deserve her.

Why is she with me? I'm rude, crude and treat her like shit. She doesn't care. I cheat on her all the time. She knows, but doesn't mind. I'm a cold-hearted, ruthless and selfish bitch. I just can't figure out what she even sees in me. All I know is that whatever's good in me is all Jus. Without her I'd be a god-awful, fucking mess.

I forgot to mention one thing about Jus. Her pussy. I told you I have a thing for them. Well hers is exquisite. No, it's fucking divine. She's almost perfectly symmetrical and so delicate. Like some master artisan has carved every little fold and feature with intricate and loving precision. I've seen quite a few, but hers is simply art and it's breathtaking. She has a book in her library -- James's Varieties of Religious Experience. Don't have a fucking clue what it's about and couldn't give a shit either but, I tell you, looking at her pussy; I have a religious experience every time. And I bloody worship it too. I make every offering to that shrine as wonderful for her as I can. Hey, and I figure offering regularly can't hurt either.

We've turned it into a game. Well, to be fucking honest, it's my game and she's agreed to play along. We wind each other up and then whoever caves first and begs for sex loses and a point goes to the other. It's usually me, but I let her win occasionally to keep it fun. To the victor go the spoils.

Shit, my coffee's cold.

"Jus, how do I work this fucking machine!?"

"Babe, just grab a can of something from the fridge, OK? You'll just break it or burn yourself or something."

----------

JUSTINE

You know, I don't mind that she's rude. It actually doesn't bother me at all. Except it's rubbing off on me too and I have to consciously stop including profanities in every sentence.

For all her aggression, she doesn't really intimidate me either. It's a front and I know she doesn't mean it. She's only ever been really angry with me once. A few months after we met, I thought I'd surprise her by shaving my pussy. She walked in to the bathroom just as I was about to start.

'Don't you fucking dare!!' she screamed.

She was furious. I was stunned. She must have seen my look, because her rage was gone in an instant.

'Don't', she said. 'Please, don't. Not you, Jus. You don't need to change anything for me. You're absolutely beautiful. I love you just as you are.'

And she turned and walked out. That's the only time she's actually said the L-word to me. And only the second time I've seen her cry.

Not really a crying gal, our Lena. The first time was when I asked her to move in. She'd slept over my place a few times, but usually left before I was up. The only sign she'd been would be a cigarette butt on a saucer in the kitchen. Half-eaten toast on a plate. One morning after a pretty rough night she slept late and I woke first. I remember just lying there watching her sleep. She looks so soft when she's asleep, all calm and at peace. Her eyes blinked open and she looked at me.

'Stay,' I'd said.

'Can't babe, got a job to shoot today. Some fucking marketing campaign.'

'No, I mean I'm asking you to stay. Here. Move in with me?'

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she threw her arms around me. She smothered me with kisses. Which soon turned into other things. She never made the shoot. She's still here too.

She's never hurt me either. Don't mistake me, we play rough. Sometimes very rough! But for all that Lena doesn't read, I'm like an open book to her. She knows exactly what I need, what I can take and what I want. How much, where and when. It's uncanny. And God she's wonderful. She must have had me a hundred different ways. Every hole. Mouth, tongue, fingers, fist, toys, and tools -- some pretty creative too.

Oh, there was this one time we'd gone to dinner at Angelica's. She and Paul had just got engaged and it was kind of a celebration for all their friends. She'd arranged this beautiful al fresco setting out in the garden with tablecloths, decorations, candles; the whole show. Paul had done ribs and steak and stuff. It was almost dark by the time we were eating and we were all chatting and having a pretty good time. Lena picked up one of the sauce bottles from the table and scratched at the label with her fingernail.

'What do you make of that Jus?' she said as she passed it me.

'Prime steak sauce?'

'No fuck-wit, the brand.'

'Shit!' I smothered a laugh. With Lena's minor modification, it now read 'Fulkoff'.

'But does it work?' she smirked.

Before I knew it, she'd whisked it under the table, and shoved it between my legs. So here's me clutching the table for dear life with one hand and the other up to my face to hide as much of my expression as I can while Lena's screwing me with a sauce bottle. It's so dirty and so unbelievable. Getting fucked under the table at a dinner party! I'm getting wetter as she slowly rotates it within me, moving it in and out. Letting the contours and ridges scrape over my clit, around me, in me. It's hard; real hard and big. Thank God for the dim lighting! Thank God it also wasn't the chilli! Meanwhile, she's having a casual conversation with Angelica about wedding plans.

Someone yells from the other end of the table.

'Hey, where's that steak sauce?'

'Oh, right here', says Lena.

She rips it out of me and passes it straight to Michael. And damn me if he doesn't notice a thing, uncaps it and pours some on his plate. Lena turns to me with an evil grin and leans over.

'Fuck Paul Newman', she whispers in my ear. 'You should bottle your own. Justine's special sauce.'

I roared with laughter. Good thing too, since I was otherwise in danger of making a very embarrassing mess of one of Angelica's chairs. Lena made it up to me later though. We laughed about it for hours. Everyone else probably thought we were insane, or pissed, or high -- or all three! Now she just has to say 'sauce' and wink for me to start giggling.

So am I a lesbian? I don't really think of myself like that at all. I had a couple of boyfriends before Lena and I'd enjoyed sex with them. I'm shy by nature, but definitely not a prude. I know what I want. I'd never been at all interested in girls. And I'm still not. Except for one. And she's everything to me. I guess that makes me 'Lena-sbian.'

She's pretty protective of me too. Which is funny because she's so promiscuous herself; yet she doesn't even see the irony. She gets huffy if someone even looks at me in what she thinks might be an interested way. Strangely, I do get a few of those looks now. I never used to and I'm still getting used to it. I think it's got something to do with being with Lena. People speculate what I must be like to keep such a siren on a leash. The truth is there's a leash alright, but Lena holds it. I do secretly love it though when we walk in somewhere and her arm's around me. You just watch everyone's reaction as they look at us. The expressions of appreciation, sometimes open lust and desire. OK mostly at Lena, but it makes me giddy just thinking that this amazing girl is here, with me. I get a real kick out of it. I think Lena knows I do, which is why she does it. I reward her after, of course.


Salt & Vinegar Ch. 02



Here's a little more Lena and Justine for those who requested it.

I recommend reading Salt & Vinegar first, although this is a stand-alone story.

Enjoy! And please let me know if you'd like more.

Thanks again to Warrior_Wolf for the helpful edits.

----------

JUSTINE

Friday, finally! I'd had a really shitty week at work. Everyone was under pressure to meet deadlines on the new software project. I'd been putting in twelve hour days and taking work home as well. My temper was frayed, my eyes were square and I swear I dreamt bloody code in the few short hours of sleep I managed to get each night. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes and stretching. I was so ready for the weekend. 

The effort had paid off though. We looked like making the deadline and the client was ecstatic. Some of the guys were getting together on Saturday to celebrate and blow off some steam. Dean had asked if I'd like to join them. I wasn't really interested, but I appreciated the gesture. It meant I was part of the team. The code work wasn't as glamorous as the character design and GUI stuff, but solid code was critical to performance. I was a gun, and they knew it.

"Thanks for the offer, Dean, but my partner and I are already doing something on Saturday night."

Probably doing each other, I thought to myself hopefully. Poor Lena was going crazy from lack of attention and, with me all bitchy due to the stress and lack of sleep, there'd been a couple of tense moments over the last few nights. Hmm, 'tense' is probably an understatement. I was already anticipating the make-up sex.

"You sure? We're goin' old school. AD&D version one rules!"

"I'm sure you'll do fine without me. Thanks for the invite though. Maybe another time."

Dean's face froze.

I wondered just how disappointed he was. I knew he sort of liked me. He'd been fishing for ages, trying to figure out how serious a relationship I was in. I'm not sure he even believed I had a partner. I don't really talk about my private life at work. If you're a friend, you don't have to ask. If you're not, you don't need to know. Dean and I got on OK – sharing a pod and all – but that was as far as it went. He was a friendly enough guy; just not a friend.

"Look, I'm really sorry, Dean", I said. "Next time, OK?"

His mouth had now dropped open.

"Horns of the Left Hand Path", he whispered reverently.

"What?"

If this was a D&D reference, I didn't get it.

"Not what! Who."

I realised he was looking over my shoulder. I turned to see Lena sauntering down the aisle towards our pod in the back corner of the office.

You've heard the expression 'an ass that can stop traffic'. Well, Lena's causes gridlock for blocks. Actually, she can cause it in front as well as behind. Her chest is as impressive as her rear. She is one very hot package. Trust me, I know. In intimate detail.

Real live divine goddesses like Lena are as common in the IT world as faultlessly performing Beta releases. They just don't happen. In Lena's wake, guys had stood up and were staring over the cubicle walls at this Friday afternoon miracle. They all wore exactly the same expression as Dean's. It was obvious that Lena was aware of the reaction. Even if she couldn't see the effect she was creating, she couldn't have failed to hear the various exclamations of wonder and appreciation that echoed behind her.

These guys fantasised about women like Lena. They were normal enough in any RPG, with exaggerated assets specifically designed to provide eye candy for socially challenged and sexually frustrated gamers. You just didn't expect to see one appear at work in the flesh.

There was a fair amount of flesh too. Skimpy denim shorts and a cut-away shirt exposed a fair amount of Lena's body. She was playing it up as well. A catwalk model couldn't have topped her performance. Her expression was a wonderful combination of studied nonchalance coupled with a wicked smirk. She was working a little extra into her hips too. One hand swung gently by her side. The other managed to casually stroke up her thigh. That walk was so hot it should have been illegal.

She grinned as she caught my eye. I blew her a soft little kiss with my mouth and smiled back. Nobody noticed, but then I probably could have stripped off and danced naked and everyone's attention still would have been on Lena. She winked. How the girl can make a wink so dirty, I'll never know. I felt myself getting wet.

"I think ... I think she just winked at me", Dean breathed in a weak voice.

I had to smother a laugh before turning back to him with a straight face.

"It's possible..." I conceded.

Dean's not what I'd call handsome, but he's OK looking in a geeky, glasses-wearing kind of way. I suddenly had one of those disturbing cringe thoughts. I wondered just how far I was from being a female version of Dean. Lena saved me from any doubt. She walked around the corner of the cubicle, gathered me into her arms and gave me a very passionate kiss. With tongue, the saucy bitch. When we broke, I put my finger up to her lips.

"You've probably caused a number of workplace injuries you know, babe. Blood pressure, whiplash, the odd exploding hard drive; that sort of thing."

Lena coolly surveyed the crowd of extremely attentive spectators.

"Hard drive? That sounds pretty dirty. You might have to show me one of those later", she murmured. Then louder, "What, you boys never seen a woman before?"

I glanced over at Dean. His eyes were popping out of his head. I also realised that Lena's hands were casually placed on my ass where only he could see.

"Um, not off the screen", volunteered one brave soul.

"Well then, you'd better not miss this opportunity."

Lena slowly unbuttoned her shirt and flashed her magnificent breasts.

Her breasts are full, large and perky. I've spent many, many hours in their blessed company. Dusky aureoles and slightly erect nipples showed that she was aroused by all the attention. I stared at them hungrily. I think they're absolutely perfect.

Gasps and reverential profanities throughout the room indicated wide agreement with me. Lena let them appreciate her assets for a couple of heartbeats.

"Right, shows over. Now back to work you fucking perverts!"

Heads bobbed back down like they'd been shot. A few of my colleagues stumbled in a half-crouch for the door.

"Looks like some of them need an urgent trip to the little boys' room", Lena smirked.

"And the bright ones are probably off to beg for a copy of the security footage", I shrugged.

Lena laughed and then turned to Dean.

"Your buddy missed the finale."

Lena's shirt still hung open. The inside slopes and swell of her breasts were very evident. Her proud nipples showed plainly underneath the thin fabric. The piercing through her navel winked in the light.

Dean gulped.

"Looks like he appreciated it just the same", I said.

Dean had a noticeable bulge straining against the front of his trousers. Lena took a step forward and casually batted his crotch with her hand. He whimpered, but couldn't take his eyes off her chest.

"Well, seeing as your Justine's pod pal, you get the special treatment", she said huskily.

She reached down and unfastened Dean's trousers. His cock bulged against his jocks. Lena released it with a practised hand. Dean looked around wildly but was too shocked to do anything else.

"Done that before have you, honey?" I said to her.

"Ah well, you know ..."

Dean's cock sprang free. He was hard indeed. A vein throbbed on one side, snaking its way up the shaft toward his swollen head. His wasn't the biggest dick I'd seen, but it was still quite a respectable size.

"And who said you IT guys weren't studs", leered Lena.

Lena began to play with him. She licked a finger and then ran it around the flange of his head. A drop of cum appeared at the slit and then dribbled slowly downward. She trapped it with her finger tip and then rubbed it up and around the head of his pulsing member. Dean looked almost ready to faint and he reached around desperately to grasp the back of his chair for support. His mouth worked open and closed as Lena stroked his shaft firmly before tugging him lightly and quickly. He reached a hand up toward one of her breasts, but she batted it away with her other hand. Then she licked a finger and began to trace around her nipples, pushing the shirt away so Dean had an unobstructed view. He shuddered and Lena stepped lightly to the side as his cum spewed from him, jetting out in an arc to splatter all over the carpet. He was panting hard and still wore the same wild-eyed look.

"Looks like the cleaners are in for a surprise tonight", I quipped.

I glanced around, but the rest of the office was returning to normality. The half-height divide had hidden the action from everyone. While we were standing close, it looked like we could have been just chatting. Hopefully, no one would come and bother Dean for the rest of the afternoon; otherwise he was going to have some explaining to do. Either that or Lena had just given him office hero status. I snapped my fingers in front of Dean's face until he focussed, then held a tissue out for him.

"Congratulations Dean. You've just been given one of the best hand jobs you'll ever have."

"What do you mean, 'one of the best', bitch?" said Lena.

"Um, er ... thanks ... uh?" queried Dean.

"Sorry Dean, I know it's normal to have introductions before things get intimate; but 'normally' doesn't always apply with Lena. Dean, this is my partner Lena. Lena, Dean."

"Uh, thank you ... Lena. Wait, she's your partner Justine! Seven circles of hell! And she's just ..."

"Yes, great isn't she? And you couldn't even begin to imagine what we get up to", I said wickedly.

"Except now he won't sleep for a week trying to, you fucking tease Jus."

Poor Dean couldn't meet my eyes. I slapped Lena on the ass.

"You'll pay for that, bitch!"

"I'm counting on it. Now, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, sweetness?"

"You've been working too hard and I had nothing to do so I caught a cab to see if my favourite girl wants an excuse to leave early on a Friday afternoon?"

"Hey. You make it sound like I need a reason to come home."

"Nah, I'm just bored. I've been thinking about you all day – all week, actually – and can't wait any longer. Did myself a couple of times already, but I'm still fucking horny as hell. So, you're coming?"

Dean was starting to stiffen up again as he listened to the byplay.

"Sorry, Dean", I said. "Fun's over so you'll have to put your little buddy away."

"Oh, yeah. Right."

Dean blushed and had a little bit of difficulty as he struggled to redress.

"Now I understand about you turning me down for Saturday", he muttered.

"What, he made a pass at you Jus!?"

"Hold up, Lena", I laughed. "He only invited me to a D&D game with a few of the guys from work."

Lena's eyes narrowed.

"A D&D game?"

"Dungeons and Dragons. Fantasy role playing."

"Role playing fantasies in dungeons, huh? Sounds a bit fucking BDSM to me."

"Not that sort, you slut. Stop being so bloody suspicious! It's dice and figurines and stuff. Actual games. Besides, I thought we were doing something with Chrissie on Saturday night?"

"Yeah, we are. Dean? Hands off! Clear?" said Lena with a menacing look.

"See Dean, siren on the outside but cross her and she's lethal."

Dean held his hands up in surrender.

"No, no! Like the Diamond of Nulgath, I swear!"

"What?"

"It's OK Lena. It translates from gamer as 'I understand'."

"Well, alright then", said Lena as she buttoned up her shirt.

She flashed one of her insanely attractive smiles and the pod's weather forecast suddenly turned from 'imminent storm' to 'bright sunshine' in an instant. We left with Dean gazing dreamily after us.

Outside in the car park, Lena leant in close to me as we walked toward my car. She nibbled my ear lobe with her lips.

"Dean's dick just about killed me", she whispered. "I'm not going to be able to wait until I get you home."

I wasn't sure that I could either. I unlocked my car, but opened the back door instead of the front and crawled onto the rear set. I glanced invitingly at Lena as I unzipped my jeans. Lucky I parked at the back this morning.

"Oh, I am so going to nail you, bitch", breathed Lena heavily.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" I teased as I wriggled out of my jeans.

We keep a handy selection of items in the car for just such emergencies. Lena unzipped her shorts as she reached into the pocket of the passenger side door. Shielded by the car, Lena fastened a harness around her hips and fitted a thick black dildo. I sat in the middle of the back seat and lifted my legs up so Lena could move around and on top of me.

My pussy was exposed to her hungry gaze.

"Just stay like that", growled Lena as she lowered herself onto me.

She kissed me savagely then, her hunger evident in her lips and tongue. I reached up to touch her shoulders and stroke down her upper arms feeling the wonderful combination of strength and femininity in her muscles. She thrust roughly into me and I gasped into her kiss. She let me adjust to the size of the dildo before beginning to move slowly in and out. I folded my legs down and around her, clasping her hips to mine. I moved my hands up to caress her neck. I broke our kiss to work my mouth along her jaw, then down the side and nape of her neck. Her raven locks hung like a shroud around our heads, curtaining us; her panting breath blowing strands of it wildly. I shifted my hips slightly to elevate her, moving lower so that I could kiss the breasts I had admired earlier. My lips softly explored her soft curves and my tongue traced the outline of her hard, erect nipples. I kissed and sucked her, nuzzling, needing, wanting.

Lena knew what I wanted. She increased the speed and depth of her thrusting as I grew wetter and wetter. I could feel my orgasm being summoned from deep within me and I moaned her name with urgency. She pounded into me with a savage ferocity and grasped me tightly as I screamed her name and my body erupted in wave after wave of glorious, explosive delirium.

Despite her own need, she rode me softly down the decline of my climax. She stilled within me for a moment before withdrawing and detaching the dildo.

"You want this?" she said huskily.

I grabbed it and threw it on the floor. I forcibly rolled her underneath me until we had swapped places. Now it was my turn. I continued where I'd left off. Kissing and sucking her breasts once again before tracing my tongue down and around her navel. Stroking her thighs with my hands, I gradually worked my way downwards teasing myself as much as her. I licked around and under the straps and buckle of her harness before I undid it, letting it fall away onto the seat.

Lena has always shaved herself, except for a narrow line of thick hair. I carefully licked it into shape, grooming her with my tongue and mouth. I moved one hand underneath to gently trace around the rosebud of her anus with an exploratory finger. I was rewarded with a desperate groan.

"For God's sake, Jus. Please ... just ... fucking take me!"

And I obliged. I hungrily devoured every fold and crevice of her warm, wet pussy with my mouth and tongue. I know Lena's sex like the back of my own hand but every time is like a new adventure. I never tire of exploring the wonder of her. I revelled in her scent, her taste, her smell; my every sense intoxicated by my lover. I licked and kissed, thrusting my tongue deep within her, then swirling it rapidly around her clit. I sucked and lapped at her juices until I felt Lena tense and...

"Oh, Jus... Jus ... fuuuucccckkkk!!"

I continued to gently lick her, matching each shudder of ecstasy which ran through.

When she sighed with pleasure, I crawled up onto her and snuggled into her, laying my head between her breasts. Lena wrapped her arms around me tightly and held me close, stroking my hair. Over the swell of her breast, I could see that the windows had completely fogged, enclosing us in our own small, secure world like the inside of a cloud. It was wonderful just to lay there listening to the rapid beat of my lover's heart and feel her breath warm against my cheek. I sighed with contentment and tilted my head to look up at her.

"Better?" I whispered.

She was looking at me with a tender light in her eyes, which she quickly masked. The familiar hard cynicism returned, but I had seen what I always knew she kept hidden within her and which was the essence of her artistic genius – a deep and profound sensitivity. I felt privileged to be trusted to see it. It was a gift rarely given to anyone. She didn't have to say it; I knew how she felt.

"Yes, honey. Thanks", she said simply. The soft light returned for a brief instant.

We lay there enjoying the feeling of each other's quiet touch for a few more minutes before I stirred.

"If we don't leave soon, we're going to be caught in the Friday afternoon exodus. I think we've given them enough to talk about for the next few weeks without being discovered near-naked in the back of my car."

"Like I give a shit. But yeah, you're probably right. We'll continue this later."

"Yes ma'am."

----------

LENA

Jus bounced into the apartment one evening, closing the door behind her. She had that silly little grin and fucking mischievous twinkle in her lovely blue eyes which means she's excited.

"Good day then, huh?"

"I've got a surprise for you, babe", she said happily.

"Yeah?"

She passed me a large white envelope.

I was curious now. I slit it open with a fingernail and pulled out a full-colour piece of hand-drawn artwork. 

"Concept art for one of the characters in the new game we're developing. Dean did it. Like it?"

"Hah!"

It was obviously me. It was skilfully done. I was flattered. 

"Looks like someone made an impression. Speaking of which, there's now a permanent stain on the carpet in our pod. A memento of your visit. If anyone asks him, Dean swears he just spilt some of his soda..."

"Tell him I like it, thanks."

"Yes, well it's completely bloody unrealistic. As if you could do any real action wearing that. He's drawn a number of your, ah, 'features' quite accurately though."

"I can think of some fucking action you could do wearing this."

"Hmm, I'm sure you could, but probably not in this game. Young kids and all. Still, it'd be a shame to waste such a good idea, so why don't you show me 'warrior princess'?" Jus smirked.

I pointed to the bedroom.

"The 'dungeon' is that way, bitch. Game on."

----------



Salt & Vinegar Ch. 03



This is a stand-alone story, however I recommend reading Salt & Vinegar and Salt & Vinegar Ch.02 first.

In this episode, Justine 'rescues' Lena with unexpected results.

As always, thanks to Warrior_Wolf for the editing.

Enjoy.

----------

JUSTINE

Chrissie had arranged for the three of us to go to the Lightning Lounge on Saturday night. Lena had a photography session to do in the afternoon and Chrissie was going shopping so we decided just to meet there around eight.

I had no idea what Lena was going to wear: sometimes she dressed to kill, other times she was almost casual. I opted for tight black jeans, boots and a short halter top, dressing my red hair in a top knot. With heavy eye shadow and mascara I decided I looked sort of glam-vamp. What the hell, why should Lena get all the fun! I knew I didn't have her gorgeous figure -- let's face it, Lena's in a league of her own -- but I'm not half bad myself and I reckoned I looked pretty sexy as I studied myself in the mirror. Since I'm my own worst critic, I figured that was a good enough indication. I hoped Lena would like it.

The Lounge was one of the newer clubs and had a reputation for being pretty hot -- both the music and the patrons. I was pleased to receive (and, of course, ignore: I am taken) several very interested glances as I strolled in looking for Lena and Chrissie. Not for nothing have I spent almost a year and a half with a sex goddess. I could picture Lena's walk in my sleep and I'm a pretty quick study. Even if I couldn't quite pull it off as well as her, I made a damn good imitation. Chalk one, Justine.  

I looked around for a few minutes. No sign of Chrissie. Then I spotted Lena. She was in a dark corner talking with a couple of other girls. I smiled to myself. Lena's appetite was legendary. But as I walked closer, my smile faded. What appeared to be a casual conversation from a distance was something else. Lena was pressed back into the corner. Her eyes were flashing with anger and the other two radiated aggression. An argument? Lena made to move away and one of the girls blocked her with an arm and pushed her roughly back into the corner.

Let me say in my defence that I do have red hair. And, when roused, a temper that matches it. It was now well and truly awake. The girls were dressed neo-goth and the blonde one threatening Lena had a dog collar. None of them noticed my arrival until I gripped her collar, forcibly yanking her backwards and slamming her against the wall. My hand went to her throat to pin her and the heel of my boot pressed down on her instep to reinforce the point.

"Back off, bitch, she's with me!"

I was turning to confront the other girl with my hand clenched into a fist when Lena burst out laughing.

"See Stacy, that's how you fucking do it! My kitten's got claws!"

I spun in surprise, forgetting that my heel was still firmly pressed into the blonde's foot.

"Aargh, that ..." she gasped.

"Did I give you permission to speak!" said Stacy in a quiet tone that would have cut stone.

I was about to retort something when the blonde spoke softly and I realised she hadn't been speaking to me.

"No, mistress. I'm sorry, mistress."

Her eyes were watering with the pain and I quickly removed my heel. And my hand from her throat. I was about to apologize myself when Lena touched my arm. I glanced at her and read the warning in her eyes, which she reinforced with a very slight shake of her head.

"You will remain silent until I give you leave!"

The blonde nodded, eyes downcast. Lena decided that some clarification was in order.

"Wonderful entry, Jus, but I was doing Stacy a favour. She wanted to test Beth -- her eyes flicked toward the blonde -- and the challenge was to see if she could intimidate me. However, I think you've just given Beth a bloody excellent lesson!"

"She's such a hopeless, useless fucking slut!" seethed Stacy.

Lena eyes flashed, but she held her tongue. I couldn't quite understand what was going on and didn't really know what to say.

"Well, her punishment is to be yours for the night", Stacy said to me. "Send her back whenever you're done!" she spat over her shoulder as she stalked off.

I watched her go for a second, dumbfounded, and then turned to Beth. She hadn't moved and was still looking at the floor. I looked to Lena questioningly.

"Tell Beth to stay here for a moment", she said.

"Why don't ..."

"Just tell her, Jus", Lena said quietly.

"Beth, please stay here for a moment."

Lena frowned at me but, when Beth still didn't move, she shrugged and gestured for me to walk away a little with her. I looked over my shoulder. Beth remained motionless, looking at the floor.

"Well, honey, you now own Beth for the night. So what do you want to do with her?"

"What the fuck!?"

"She's yours."

"No she's not! She can do whatever the hell she wants! Stacy seems like a right bitch anyway!"

Lena gave me a long look.

"You don't understand this do you?"

"Frankly, no."

Lena sighed.

"I sometimes forget that you're such an innocent, babe. Me having corrupted you and all."

"Happily accepted!" I said with a grin.

"I take it back, slut" she laughed, then suddenly stopped. "I shouldn't call you that", she muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, but you don't mean it. Just like I call you a fucking whore and I don't mean it either."

"Well, in that particular case you're probably right, but I know what you mean. You and I know we're just fuckin' with each other, but others don't. I should be more careful."

She glanced back at Beth.

"Stacy and Beth have a master-slave relationship. Stacy 'owns' Beth for want of a better description. Beth does whatever she's told. From what I can see, it doesn't work quite the way it's supposed to because, as you've so clearly observed, Stacy is a 'right bitch'. Domination is not abuse. But Stacy abuses Beth badly. That said, we don't have the right to interfere either. Beth is the only one who can break the relationship."

I was horrified.

"Why? I don't understand."

Lena placed her hands on my shoulders. She looked at me solemnly.

"That's because you are a beautiful person, Justine."

She paused, blinked, and then looked at me steadily.

"This is not easy for me to say, so please hear me out. I 'owned' Stacy once. What Stacy is now, she learned from me. That I, too, was appalled by her behaviour tonight is due to your influence on me, Jus, for which I am profoundly grateful. Stacy is now -- almost -- as bad as I was. You saved me from that. That I regress and take advantage of you sometimes -- OK, I'll be honest, often -- is partly just me 'being a bitch' and partly that I forget that I don't own you. Forgive me?"

Oh, Lena. I took her in my arms -- and then smacked her hard on the ass.

"And I love you too!"

Lena erupted in laughter. Good girl!

Chrissie walked up.

"Sorry I'm late."

"Good thing we're not like waiting for you or anything. And what the hell are you wearing!?" said Lena.

"Like it?" Chrissie did a little twirl.

"Didn't know that fucking hooker was the look this season", said Lena scathingly.

"I thought fucking was what hookers did?"

"For God's sake Chrissie, I'm talking about what you're wearing, not what you do! Besides which, your taste in fucking men is only slightly worse than your taste in fucking clothes."

"But I like the taste of fucking men", she smirked.

I rolled my eyes. Chrissie has an appetite probably even larger than Lena's. She's curvaceous, blonde and bisexual. Unlike Lena, Chrissie prefers guys. A lot. Often.

"So", she bubbled, "what's the plan?"

"Well, you've already missed the warm up", said Lena. "Justine's acquired a pet for the evening."

She nodded toward Beth, who still hadn't moved.

"What?" Chrissie's eyes widened.

"Calamity Jane here came riding in on her horse and ... oh, to hell with the drama! The short of it is that that bitch Stacy's given Beth's leash to Jus for the night."

"Whoa, awesome! Girls, I think our plans now include ..."

"No!"

"Oh, and I should just mention", drawled Lena, "that our Justine is also feeling a mite protective this evening."

Lena smiled at me. It was a nice smile.

"Um, OK ..." said Chrissie. "I just thought ..."

"I can guess what you 'just thought'!" I said hotly. "Did that 'thought' happen to include either of the words 'sex' or 'fuck'?"

"No ... well ... sort of. Does 'orgy' count?"

"You've got a fucking one track mind, Chrissie! And I mean that literally", laughed Lena.

"What I need is a fucking drink", I muttered.

"Well, you'd better bring Beth."

"What do I say?"

"Hang on, you mean Justine doesn't know how it works?"

"Leave it, Chrissie. She hasn't got your, ah, wide experience."

"Not many have", she said proudly.

"Just give her an instruction that's clear and precise. You don't need to say 'please' or 'thanks'. But you don't have to be rude either."

I walked back to where Beth was standing against the wall.

"Beth, look at me."

She met my eyes, but left her head slightly lowered. She was no longer crying, but the mascara tracks remained. Her eyes were placid and empty. It was a little unnerving.

"Beth, please join us for a drink."

I waited for an acknowledgement, but didn't get one. I felt awkward so turned and walked towards the bar where Lena and Chrissie were waiting. I looked over my shoulder to see if Beth was following and got a shock to see she was following right on my heels. It was like being stalked by a spirit. She was looking down and couldn't quite stop quickly enough to avoid running into me. Her eyes flew up to look at me then and there was terror in them.

"It's OK, Beth. Sorry I didn't give you warning."

What had Stacy done to her!? I waited a moment, but she didn't say anything and her glance returned to the floor. I turned and joined the others. We found a table and collapsed into the chairs. Beth remained standing just beside and slightly behind mine.

"Take a load off Beth", I said and gestured towards the vacant seat.

She sat, and looked at the table.

"Well, who wants a drink?"

"I'm buying", said Lena. "Good gig today."

We placed our orders.

"What would you like, Beth?" I asked.

No response. I was getting frustrated.

"Jus, did you give her permission to speak?" said Lena gently.

"What? No."

"The last instruction Stacy gave Beth before she handed her to you was to remain silent until told otherwise. The command still stands until you revoke it."

Hell, I don't know if I can do this. This isn't going to be a fun evening at all. I'd been looking forward to a great night. I needed to unwind from the week at work. While Lena had certainly ended it on a fun note for me (see Chapter 2), it had been pretty stressful as we'd scrambled to meet a few development milestones. All I wanted was to dance with Lena and share a few drinks and laughs with her and Chrissie. Beth had the potential to take the night downhill fast.

"Beth, you may speak to me and also to Lena and Chrissie."

"Thank you, mistress."

I tried hard not to cringe.

"Beth, would you like a drink?"

"No thank you, mistress."

"Yes, she would. I'll get her water for starters", said Lena and sauntered off towards the bar.

"You're looking pretty hot tonight, honey" said Chrissie.

"Thanks, but don't let Lena hear you say that."

"Why do you think I waited until she left?"

"Hah! Coward."

"No, just prudent. Not just my opinion either. I've seen a few other looks cast your way too. And Lena couldn't take her eyes off you the whole time you were getting Beth. And it wasn't Beth she was looking at either -- no offense Beth. She's gonna be so horny she's going to just hammer you when you get home you know."

"And won't that be a shame", I smirked.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Beth turn toward me, looking slightly sick.

"Please, mistress. I didn't mean to get you into trouble. I'm so sorry."

My gut turned over. Chrissie and I just looked at each other.

"You haven't done anything wrong, Beth, and I'm not in trouble. Lena and I have a very, ah, playful relationship."

Chrissie made a choking sound, which she quickly turned into a cough. I frowned at her.

"Sometimes we play rough, but we both enjoy it. I take it you don't enjoy it when Stacy's rough with you."

"Not often, mistress."

"Does she hurt you? Badly?"

"Sometimes, mistress. But I deserve it for disappointing her."

"Can you show me? Don't expose anything", I added quickly.

Beth obviously had a different view of what classified as 'exposure'. Perhaps I should have expected that. She lifted her top up. She was badly bruised across her chest and one breast. The colour was deep purple, but starting to fade to brown around the edges in places so it was already a few days old.

Chrissie gasped.

I reached out to gently touch her ribs, just below her breast. Her eyes widened in panic, but she didn't pull away.

"Does it hurt a lot still, Beth? Are any of your ribs broken?"

"It doesn't hurt much at all now, mistress. I don't think anything is broken. She is always careful not to injure me."

Careful my ass! The fucking sadistic bitch!

Someone behind me wolf whistled, followed by laughter, and I realised I still had my hand on Beth. I spun around and the look of blind fury on my face stopped the mirth instantly.

"Lower your shirt please Beth."

Lena returned and placed our drinks on the table and quirked an eyebrow at me.

"What's got you all riled up again, Jus? By the look on your face, I'm glad you're not armed. You're not are you?"

"What? No. Don't be stupid. I've got you, honey. Men can only think about one sort of 'weapon' when you're around. I couldn't get better protection."

"Thanks, bitch, I think. Seriously, what's the matter?"

"Show her, Beth."

"That fucking sadistic bitch!" fumed Lena.

"That's what I thought."

"Ditto", said Chrissie.

"Well, you're OK with us tonight Beth. Drink up."

She reached for the water and gulped it down thirstily. Lena had known. I glanced across at her and she nodded slightly.

"Jus, could I go dance with Beth?" asked Chrissie.

I was surprised, and it must have shown.

"I'll be careful with her, I will. And well-behaved. Trust me, we'll have fun."

It's true, Chrissie is lots of fun. If you can get her to stop thinking about sex. When she does, she's bloody good company. She never takes anything seriously and her gaiety somehow rubs off on everyone.

"Alright. Beth, go and dance with Chrissie. And enjoy yourself. That's an order."

"OK, mistress", said Beth and she smiled.

It was like the sun coming out from behind a dark cloud.

"Thanks Chrissie", said Lena.

"We're just going to make a short detour to get your face cleaned up. Come on, sugar."

She grabbed Beth's hand, gave her a little hug and then led her off towards the bathroom.

"I think I need a hug too", I said.

Lena's arms enveloped me and held me close.

"This is really affecting you, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I've heard about this sort of thing, but it just doesn't make sense to me. I don't understand why someone would allow themselves to be abused like that."

Lena sighed and let me go with a quick kiss. We sat back in our chairs and I grabbed my cocktail. I needed it.

"OK, the Beginner's Guide to SM. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"SM involves the giving and receiving of pain, humiliation and the restriction of personal freedom for pleasure. It is actually emotionally and psychologically complex. While I can talk in generalities, each relationship is highly individual. A good Dom understands the motivation, response and capacity of her Submissive and is able to carefully and objectively manage and control the situation. Being a Dom is as much about self-discipline as anything else. You've heard the phrase 'there's a fine line between pleasure and pain'? Well the aim is to find the line and hold it. On one side there's pleasure, but without sufficient pain to truly satisfy. On the other side is abuse where it is impossible to fully experience pleasure. Everyone's line is different. I suspect Beth's is shallow. I know Stacy's is quite deep. They're badly matched and Stacy is mistaken in thinking that Beth shares the same desires as her. She is enjoying the power, cruelty and brutality of her role, but Beth is probably already traumatised and at risk of harm."

"I still don't understand how someone can enjoy that."

"Yes, I know you don't. I think it's one of those things you can't understand unless you have it yourself. I do and I understand", said Lena. "Sometimes too well", she added darkly.

"Again, there are a lot of reasons and they're very individual. For a Sub, it can be as simple as an adventure or escape. Some like the comfort and security of being 'owned' and provided for. Some enjoy being servile. Some get sexual pleasure from pain. Sexual experiences when bound and restrained can be exhilarating as the constriction amplifies the experience. Others experience freedom from being commanded to do things they would never otherwise give themselves permission to do. On the darker side, some crave acceptance or believe they deserve humiliation, suffering or punishment for actions or conditions either real or imagined. This is Beth's problem to some extent. Stacy has trained her to believe that about herself, but it's not, I don't believe, an essential trait of her character. The risk for Beth is that she allows herself to be psychologically manipulated beyond the point where she is able to recover without professional assistance. Aside from the physical abuse, of course."

"A fundamental element of the SM relationship is the mutual agreement of a code or signal which indicates that a limit has been reached. Theoretically this gives the control in the relationship to the Sub. However, for this brake to be effective, there are several inherent conditions the absence of any one of which renders it useless -- a rational understanding of one's limit; trust that a Dom has the self control and willingness to observe the signal when given; that the Sub is in sufficient command of physical or mental facility to recognise the limit; and that the Sub is able in any situation to give that signal. In Beth's case, I think she's crossed her limit but has been manipulated by Stacy -- either deliberately or otherwise -- into believing she hasn't."

"Can we help Beth?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Absolutely."

"No, I'll ask that again. I can help Beth, but it will involve things you may be very uncomfortable with. I will also need your help, as much for me as for Beth. So, Jus, do you trust me?"

I got up and walked over to her chair. I reached down and took her face in my hands and looked steadily into her eyes.

"Lena, I trust you with my life."

"Jus, you give me too much", she whispered back.

"I love you", I said simply.

Lena rubbed her cheek against my hand and then took them away from my face to hold them in hers. She brought them back to her mouth and kissed them gently.

"And I am yours, my lady."

For the next few minutes, we finished our drinks in silence while the lights, music and chaos of the Saturday night club scene whirled around us.

Lena touched my shoulder and pointed through the crowd on the floor. I could make out Beth and Chrissie, who both seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"Chrissie's got a heart of gold, hasn't she", mused Lena.

We watched them for a few minutes.

"Beth's not bad. Nice moves."

"Hey!" I said. "I came here to dance with you and you're checking out the other options?"

"Whoa, look who's still fired up!" she grinned and I realised she'd been teasing me.




Salt & Vinegar Ch. 03



"Bitch."

"Absolutely, now get your ass out of that chair, Jus, and make it worth my while. You look fucking hot tonight by the way."

We spent the next hour or so the way I'd imagined we would. The rhythm and beat. The flashes of strobe providing a flicker strip of Lena in stop-motion animation. Sinuous body. Wild hair. Tattoos highlighted against skin slick with sweat. Her body next to mine. My hands on her. Hers all over me.

Chrissie and Beth were already there when we made our way back to the bar. They both looked pretty done in.

"A girl could lose a stone or two, doing this every Saturday night", exclaimed Chrissie. "Although I do enjoy a variety of exercise."

"I'll bet you do!" laughed Lena.

Beth's eyes were substantially brighter and she even looked happy.

"Enjoy yourself, Beth?" I asked.

"Very much, thank you mistress."

"Well", I said, "I'm beat. I vote we have one for the road and then call it a night. You coming, Chrissie?"

"What? It's not even 12! Why ... oh, I get it. You two couldn't keep your hands off each other out there and are looking for somewhere a little more private to finish the 'dance'."

Lena and I laughed.

"She said you're welcome to join us, Chrissie", said Lena hopefully.

I rolled my eyes. Chrissie laughed.

"Thanks, but I'll hang here for a bit. I've got a few options of my own. You taking Beth?"

"Yes."

"Good. Look after her, OK?"

"We will. Hey, thanks Chrissie you're a treasure. Make sure you look after yourself too, OK?"

"C'mon Beth, we're going home."

"Mistress?"

"Yes, Beth?"

"Are you taking me home with you, mistress?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, mistress."

"Great", muttered Lena quietly in my ear as we walked out in search of a cab. "Now I've got her wean her off Stacy and you!"

"What'd I do?"

"You're her new hero", she said playfully and pinched my ass.

"Look at her, drooling all over you with those big brown eyes."

Lena was laughing, but there was also a steely glint in her eye which I knew well. I saw she was right, though, as I glanced back at Beth. She was looking at me in a slightly worshipful way. It was sort of nice. Hero, huh? Or maybe she's just admiring my ass in these jeans. Either way, I'll take it. Usually it's Lena who gets all the looks. Chalk two, Justine.

----------

JUSTINE

We walked into our apartment and I pushed Beth gently onto the sofa and sat down next to her.

"Beth, I'm giving you to Lena for the evening. She will take good care of you, alright?"

"Yes, mistress", she said but looked a little nervous.

"Beth, go into the bedroom. That door." Lena spoke quietly, but firmly.

"Yes, mistress."

"Jus, I've been thinking. This may be easier for you if you just check on us every fifteen or so. Would you prefer that rather than watching the whole time?"

"Yes, I think I would. Thanks Lena."

"Thanks? I'm about to do a whole load of unsavoury and very sexual things with a reasonably attractive slave in our bedroom and you're thanking me?"

"Well in that case, I expect to you to fully debrief me later on what those 'unsavoury and very sexual things' were and perhaps show me personally. Very personally. And take your time. Just so I'm clear. See you in fifteen."

I walked into the kitchen swinging my hips, Lena-style.

"God your wonderful, Jus!"

I won't bore you with all the details of every quarter-hour check. Suffice to say I found some of it very arousing and some of it rather disturbing. I took a shower around 3 before checking on them again. Lena was holding herself under iron control and she assured me Beth was doing well. Some of the sounds periodically coming from the bedroom certainly affirmed that. The sky was getting light as they finished.

I was watching MTV when the bedroom door opened and two beautiful naked women stood there smiling at me. I turned the TV off to give them my full attention. One of course, was absolutely stunning. God, Lena is so hot.

"Beth, I'm giving you back to Justine now. Jus, Beth has something to ask you."

"Thank you, Lena. Mistress?"

"Yes, Beth?"

"Thank you for loaning me to Lena. It ... she ... was wonderful."

"She is, isn't she", I said, smiling at them both.

"I'd very much like to thank you, mistress. Would you like to come into the bedroom?"

I glanced at Lena who was still smiling and giving me a nod of encouragement. I gathered this was the final part of Beth's 'treatment'.

"Thanks, Jus", Lena whispered in my ear as I brushed past her in the doorway. She reached out and held me briefly and then led me toward the bed. They'd cleaned up and there was no evidence of the debauchery of the previous hours. Even the linen was new and fresh.

With gentle hands Beth began to undress me. Lena kissed the nape of my neck and then around the side, then my throat. Her tongue found its way into my mouth and I felt myself getting wet between my legs. I was now completely naked and Beth guided me down onto the bed. Lena's mouth was still all over me and her hands were caressing my arms and breasts. As I sank onto the pillows, I felt Beth part my legs. While Lena and I continued to kiss passionately, she began to lick slowly at my clit. I shuddered and moaned into Lena's mouth. She gently broke the kiss and gave me a smile. She leant over to kiss both of my nipples, her raven-black hair cascading over my breasts and stomach to give me its own caress. She stood up and walked over to the drawer where we keep our toys. Beth's head was buried between my legs and it felt strange to see blonde hair there instead of Lena's black. By this stage I was thoroughly aroused and I groaned with need. Beth's eyes flicked up to mine and they held a soft smile, even as she continued her licking and sucking of my sex.

Lena returned with a small selection of toys. Beth was kneeling between my legs, exposing her ass. Lena lightly smacked both cheeks before beginning to finger her pussy. Beth squirmed her hips and renewed her efforts on my pussy as Lena played with her. With her free hand, Lena selected one of the small vibrators and began to rub it around Beth's clit before firmly, but not roughly, inserting it into her. She moved it in and out and, when it was thoroughly wet, pushed it firmly into her ass. Beth was obviously used to this because she gave a moan of need. Lena turned the vibrator on and I could hear its soft hum. Beth's hips pushed back and Lena inserted a much larger dildo into her front hole. Beth groaned and began to frantically lick and suck at me as her own desire raged.

I'd never been taken by a girl, apart from Lena. I knew Lena did this all the time -- I'd even joined her for some of them -- but Lena was the only one who'd ever pleasured me. Lena was also very protective and I was surprised that she would let Beth do this to me. Then I understood. This was Lena's idea. And she was fucking me, using Beth as a tool just like any of our other toys. Lena was pressing the buttons and Beth was responding to give me pleasure.

I felt the build up of pressure inside me and looked lovingly at Lena as I came. 'Thank you' I mouthed at her before throwing my head back onto the pillow and thrusting my hips hard against Beth's mouth. Ecstasy surged through me and I felt the matching release of fluids from between my legs which washed over Beth's face. She slowed her pace and gently licked me until my orgasm had subsided.

With me done, Lena upped the action for Beth, working the dildo hard into her cunt while the little vibrator continued to stimulate her ass. Within minutes Beth was in the throes of her own orgasm. She pushed herself up with her hands and threw her head back, her eyes rolling up in her head. She made a low keening sound as she lost herself in her own pleasure. She collapsed, exhausted onto the bed, then crawled slowly up to me to snuggle into my chest and wrap her arms around me.

"Thank you, mistress, for everything", she said drowsily.

She was asleep within moments, both toys still buried deep inside her.

I gently disengaged her arm, switched off the vibrator and rolled her over so that Lena could lie beside me. I gathered my girl into my arms and we kissed again, softly and passionately.

"How are you going, honey? How was it watching another girl do me?"

"Fucking hot to be honest and I'm so crazy with need it hurts, Jus."

"My turn, then", I said.

I gave her a final kiss and then began to work my way down her body. Her gorgeous breasts, hard erect nipples, firm stomach with its little jewel nestling in the hollow of her navel. I shifted position to kneel on top of her and place my head between her legs. The feeling of Lena's breasts pressed against my hips and stomach is one of my favourite things. As I licked and explored her warm, wet sex, Lena gently massaged my clit, lightly fingering my folds and entry. I knew I wouldn't cum again I was so tired, but I know Lena loves my cunt and this was about arousal for her more than pleasure for me. She wasn't wrong about her level of need either. She came quickly and hard, bucking beneath me and groaning softly as her pussy fountained. I gently licked up all her fluids, delighting in the taste of my lover. I felt her relax and I rolled off to lie beside her, my head on the inside of her thigh. I gently brushed the thin stripe of dark hair on her mound into shape.

"Thanks, babe", Lena murmured.

A moment later I heard her soft snore. I wrapped an arm over her hips and fell asleep myself, my lover's leg softer and dearer to me than any pillow.

----------

JUSTINE

It was late morning when I awoke and I was alone in the bed. I rolled and stretched, enjoying the sensation of a Sunday morning with nothing to do.

I threw on a robe and padded out of the bedroom.

Lena was lazing on the couch, dressed and flipping through a photography journal.

"Morning, babe. Sleep well?" she said with a smile.

"Very well thanks. How's Beth?"

"She left about an hour ago. We let you sleep. I gave her breakfast and we had a good chat. She's feeling a lot more confident about herself now and thinks she might have a talk with Stacy about where their relationship goes from here."

"That's great, well done honey. You must have worked wonders with her last night."

"She just needed a little attention herself to balance the constant abuse. To remember what it feels like to give and receive pleasure, not just pain."

----------

JUSTINE

Later in the afternoon, we were surprised by a hard, insistent knocking on our door.

Lena answered it. Stacy stood there, arms folded and furious.

"She's gone; left me. What fucking right have you got to ..."

Lena casually backhanded her across the face with enough force to send her stumbling backwards. She closed the door.

"Nah, we didn't want any of what she was selling", she said.

And we both smiled. Chalk three, Justine.

"However Lena, I do believe I asked you to show me some things ..."

----------



Salt & Vinegar Ch. 04



This is the final instalment in the Salt & Vinegar series. It's also a bit longer, so settle in.

While the other chapters are stand-alone stories, this one ties together many of the threads from the previous three. I suggest reading them first if you haven't done so already.

Thanks to Warrior_Wolf once again for her valuable editing work.

Enjoy.

----------

LENA

My mobile rang; Beth again. I was going to have to put a stop to this. I'd let it go too far.

We'd made progress on Saturday night and I should have let it go at that. But, you know me; a sucker for pussy.

I'd seen her again on Monday night. And on Wednesday. I was afraid she was forming an attachment, replacing me for Stacy. Oh, the sex was great. It was just for all the wrong reasons.

I'd been thinking clearly enough when I'd been with her on Saturday night. Jus had helped keep me in check too. But I think I enjoyed the chance to be fully in control again. To have someone submit completely and utterly to me. To enjoy the feeling of power and domination.

It's funny you know. I'm not like that with Jus. I can be rough and brutal, but it's never domination. Well, to be more precise, she's not submissive. She surrenders herself to me but it's got nothing to do with submission. The stupid bitch is crazy in love with me. God knows why! I think I've realised though that for all that she's selfless and puts up with so much shit from me, Jus is the one that holds the leash. How's that for irony. And it's why I'm feeling so fucking guilty over Beth. I sleep around all the time, but this is different. Three days in five is more than a one-night stand. Jus deserves better from me than this and Beth isn't worth ruining the one good thing that's happened to me, well, ever.

Scary to say, but in some ways Jus is like the mom I wish I had. Mine died of a drug overdose when I was ten. My memories are mixed, but mostly of mood swings and mania. Jus is calm, confident and strong. Her love is unconditional. Sometimes I feel like a kid in the playground, running round madly, exploring, having fun and doing whatever. And you know it's OK 'cause Mom's sitting on the bench over their watching out for you. You fall off the swings; there's a hug. The play gets a bit rough; Mom steps in for you. You get hungry; Mom has the snacks. Jus is like that. Her quiet strength is my security. Her love my safety net. I play around but there's always Jus to come home to and, with her, I know everything's going to be alright.

A year and a half ago I would have instantly said that I'm the stronger one; I'm in charge. Now, it's the opposite. Her quiet strength can stand against anything. She supports me. And part of me hates that I need it so badly. Really, really hates admitting my own weakness and that, at something I pride myself in – my own strength and independence – Jus is stronger and far more durable than me. And so fucking saintly as well. Damn the bitch.

Which is why, just like a kid, I push the boundaries. Test the limits. Rebel against authority. Do stupid stuff just to show that I can, that I can pretend I'm my own person and can do whatever the hell I want and damn the consequences. Just how much do you love me, Jus? Stupid bloody fool.

I was having coffee with Chrissie on Thursday morning, so I thought I'd ask Beth to join us and give her the bad news after Chrissie left. I also wanted Chrissie's advice first. Shit, I'm getting soft. What ever happened to fuck-'em-and-leave-'em Lena? Chrissie didn't hold back when we met either.

"What, you're still keeping Beth on a string. Shit, girl, does Jus know?"

"No. She's never minded before though."

"Yeah, but this might be a little different don't you think? Jesus, Lena. You're going to risk Justine over some fucked-up ex of Stacy's?!"

Which is when Beth arrived. Had she heard? Probably. But she didn't appear offended. If anything she looked a little smug. Oh, shit, she's taken it wrong. Now she thinks she seriously has a chance with me.

"Hi Lena, Chrissie."

"Hey, Beth. Well, who wants a coffee?" I said, slightly too brightly.

"No way Lena, I'm ordering. You always stuff it up. What do you want Beth? I know what Lena has."

"Skinny cappuccino for me please."

Chrissie got up and went inside to order. I took a deep breath.

I turned to Beth, placing a hand gently on her knee. This was as good a time as any. Well, maybe not, but I had to make a start. This wasn't going to get any easier. Unfortunately, Beth misread it again. She glanced down at my hand then looked up with a shy smile before throwing her arms around my neck and giving me a kiss. I was surprised for a moment before I disengaged myself. Chrissie was glaring at me from the counter. Shit. This wasn't going to plan at all.

"Listen, Beth, we need to talk."

She looked at me expectantly.

"When Justine and I helped you out on Saturday night, that's all it was. You looked like you needed a hand in taking an objective look at your relationship with Stacy. What you did with that was up to you."

"But didn't you like being with me? Didn't I do everything right?"

Shit.

"Yes, but you don't want to replace Stacy with me."

"You're a lot nicer than Stacy. Strong, but nice. You take care of me."

Double shit. Hurry the fuck up with those damn coffees Chrissie!

"Do you know why Stacy hates me so much, Beth?"

"No. She's mentioned it, but not why."

"I trained Stacy, Beth. Stacy is what she is because of me. And I'm twice the bitch that she is. Didn't know that did you?"

"Um, no."

Well, Lena, here goes nothing. I put on my 'evil witch' face. The one Justine hates. The cold sneer that she says hardens my face and takes all the humanity out of it.

"Well, you don't know me very well, bitch, do you? You want to be with me? Stacy is like Barbie compared to me. Stacy hurts people; I fucking break them. Then toss 'em away."

I picked up one of the coffee stirrers from the caddy on the table and snapped it for emphasis. One half flicked towards Beth and landed in her lap. Hah! Beth's eyes were wide and her face paled.

"Now you've got a choice. You've left Stacy and we've had a bit of fun. But playtime's over and it's time to move on. Find someone who'll look after you right. That someone is most definitely not me, and it's not Justine either. Clear?"

"Um, yeah. Very."

Beth's eyes had teared up. Bloody hell, Chrissie could you take any fucking longer! I just ditch people 'cause I hate this bit. I wouldn't be a cold-hearted bitch if I could do this 'let's just be friends' thing well! I handed Beth a napkin from the caddy on the table. Wow, sensitive me.

Chrissie returned and sank back into her chair.

"Bloody trainees. Stuff up the simplest order."

'You done?' she mouthed silently at me. Beth was dabbing at her eyes. What, she'd seen the whole thing and had played it out to give me time? Bitch! She could have helped instead.

"Excuse me for a moment."

Beth gestured vaguely inside and we got the message that she needed some space. The restroom's such a great excuse for us girls.

"Sure. Hopefully they'll have brought our coffees by the time you're back."

"You did OK, Lena", said Chrissie after Beth had gone.

"What! You heard what I said?" I was suddenly worried that the whole cafe had witnessed the conversation.

"No, idiot. But I was watching and I figured out what you were doing. You're timing's absolutely shit but it seemed as though you handled it OK."

"Gee, thanks", I said sarcastically.

"You're welcome."

"It's still easier to fuck 'em and leave 'em", I muttered.

"Yeah I know honey; but you're growing up. Justine would be proud of you."

"What are you now, Chrissie? My fucking Mom?"

Chrissie laughed. The waitress gave us a curious look as she delivered our coffees.

Beth returned. She looked slightly brighter – if still a bit red around the eyes – and the next fifteen minutes went pretty smoothly as we chatted and drank coffee. Beth squeezed my hand and said thanks as she left. She'd be alright. Chrissie hugged me and then left too, saying she had a few other friends to meet. I sat back down, just enjoying the feeling that everything was turning out OK. Strange how life goes sometimes. I wondered if Justine's day was going as well as mine.

----------

JUSTINE

It was an odd sort of day. One of those ones which have good bits and bad bits and nothing turns out like you expect.

Overall, the week had been OK, but last week's effort had taken its toll. Everyone at work was tired and tempers were thin. We'd met a few critical milestones and the client was happy, but winning a battle isn't the same as winning the war and the project was only half complete. It's hard to maintain the energy and stay focused for such a long period.

So here I was pounding the pavement to drop some stuff off to the client because the account manager was off sick. I did my best to be polite and personable and was surprised when Sean asked if I was in a rush to get back and could he speak to me privately.

"I'm really glad you dropped this over today, Justine, because I'd been hoping to have a word with you."

"Sure, how can we help, Sean?"

"No, nothing to do with the project. Well, not really. You know, of course, that we're really pleased with how it's shaping up. We also know that it's largely due to your contribution. Oh, I know it's a team collaboration and all that, but your coding and structure is what makes it so solid. Ideas are nothing without effective techs to back them up. We've been looking for a Programming Director for a while and the word is that you perform consistently like this on every project you've worked on, including rescuing a few marginal ones. You also get the best out of your people. That combination's rare and we could certainly use your talent. So, you interested?"

Wow, that was unexpected.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks. Would you mind if we talked after this project's complete? I think the change would affect our team dynamic and the outcome may not benefit either you or us."

"Absolutely. Your loyalty and team ethic are a credit to you and part of the reason we want you with us. Let me know when you're ready. Here's my card."

I left their office feeling elated. And then it started to rain. Typical.

I dashed for a cab and glanced across the street. I saw Lena sitting in one of the cafes and thought about joining her. Then I recognized Chrissie and Beth sitting with her. As I watched, Chrissie got up and walked inside. Lena kissed Beth and they were suddenly all over each other. What the hell?

"Hey lady! You want a ride or what?"

"Yeah, sorry. Downtown thanks."

So what was that all about? I thought Lena had controlled herself pretty well on Saturday night, but had I been mistaken? Had the experience got to her more than she was letting on? Worse, had she enjoyed the domination so much she couldn't help herself? I could be wrong, but this looked a bit different from her usual one-night flings. I wasn't going to like it, but I needed to ask her.

The rest of the day passed slowly. I couldn't really concentrate on much for thinking about Lena and Beth. And what did Chrissie being there mean? Did she know? Did she sanction it, even? If Chrissie knew, then how many other people knew as well? No secrets with Chrissie.

I left early and drove home through more rain. I paused at the door to our apartment and took a deep breath. Was Lena home? Only one way to find out ...

----------

LENA

I was flicking idly through one of my photographic journals when I heard the door latch click. Jus walked in and collapsed on the couch.

"How was your day?" she asked, giving me a kiss on the cheek and curling up to next to me.

"Interesting. Yours?"

"Same. I had a job offer from the firm we're doing this project for. I'm tempted. The money'd be brilliant."

"Then fucking take it. Glad to see other people recognise my girl's talent."

"Thanks. By the way, I saw you with Beth today at the cafe."

I stiffened and I knew she felt it.

"You and she looked pretty cosy. Everything OK with you?" Jus asked, with a slight frown creasing her brow.

I reacted badly. First Chrissie, now Justine. They were bloody right, of course. It probably wouldn't have bothered me except, for once, I'd actually done the right thing and I'd felt pretty good about it. Telling Justine how I'd fixed it would also involve admitting that she was right and I had crossed the line. I still felt bad about that. My bloody stupid pride fired up.

"So? I fucked her in front of you on Saturday night. I boned her again on Monday and fucked her again yesterday. What's your fucking problem, Jus? You know I sleep around."

She looked at me steadily for a long moment before answering in a carefully moderate voice.

"It's you I'm worried about, babe. After what you told me about you and Stacy on Saturday night and how you asked me to keep a check on you with Beth, I want to know you're OK and in control."

I was in control in relation to Beth. More than she knew if I could only admit it. What I wasn't in control of, I suddenly realised, was my relationship with Justine. For so long I'd been used to being the dominant partner in my relationships. I held the power, I dictated the terms, I decided how long it lasted and when and how it ended. I'd enjoyed the thing with Beth so much because I'd felt my old self again and I now knew it was because I'd been subconsciously frustrated and afraid of my lack of 'control' over Justine. I couldn't intimidate her. Oh, I treated her like everyone else – in other words, bloody badly – but her love for me somehow neutralized it. 

Jus wasn't naive or anything; my bitchiness just had no effect on her. She knew what I was and loved me anyway. She returned my abuse with selfless care, which made it even worse. If she'd complained or berated me, it probably would have been OK because I knew I deserved it. What I couldn't handle was her quiet acceptance of my flaws. Her generosity demanded better of me but it was easier to pretend it was actually OK and that I could indulge myself however and whenever I wanted without consequences. At least I'd been considerate enough to keep my casual flings reasonably private, but I'd definitely crossed the line with Beth. It'd been much more than a once-off. And I'd made it public. And now I was rubbing Justine's face in it. My guilt made me worse.

"What, you don't think I can handle myself over a piss-weak bitch like Beth? For God's sake Jus, get over it, I've told you I'm fucking finished with her!"

"No, you hadn't. What I saw today suggests you haven't either."

"Well, fuck you! You knew what you were getting when you signed on for this. I'll fuck whoever I want whenever I want. Doesn't mean anything. Now get over it, bitch and come to bed so I can fuck some sense back into you!"

Justine's face went white and her eyes went wide. That she didn't even raise her voice was a really bad sign. Shit, Lena you're an absolute bitch.

"I'm not ready for bed yet. I need a bit of air. Think I'll just take a walk. Don't wait up."

She turned and walked back to the door, grabbing an anorak. Was it wet out? Hell, I didn't know and I didn't care. I was incandescent with rage, more with myself than Justine, but how could I expect her to see that?

"That's right, walk away", I screamed after her as I heard the door open. "You can't escape shit by running away from it you fucking dumb bitch!"

----------

JUSTINE

I held it together until I closed the door, then tears flooded down my face.

"Justine, what the hell ... Are you OK?"

I looked up blearily to see John, who has the apartment across the hall, frozen in the act of turning his key. He'd obviously heard Lena and the outcome was pretty obvious. I quickly brushed past him and down the stairway with a non-committal wave which I hoped he interpreted as 'yeah'. I didn't trust myself to speak.

I stumbled out onto the sidewalk, shrugging on my anorak. It was still raining. A dull, monotonous drizzle, not enough to be useful but enough to soak anyone caught in it. It felt like the night knew my mood and was crying with me. At least no one could tell the difference between nature's misery and mine in the wetness on my face. But I knew; my tears were bitter.

I walked blindly, consumed by a broken kaleidoscope of thoughts and emotions. I hardly registered, the lights, the sounds and the smells of the city in the early evening. I stumbled along sidewalks, pushed through crowds, crossed streets completely on autopilot. I had no idea where I was going and didn't care. I just walked. In part, Lena was right. I was running away. That's what makes her cutting remarks so effective when she's being a bitch. There's always an element of truth which hones the edge of her words. Tonight, they cut like a butcher's cleaver. Solid, sharp and deep.

A part of me knew that her reaction wasn't rational and that something else was going on. Most of me didn't care because it was too numb to be that generous. I wallowed in self-pity. Why did I deserve this? I wasn't the one that slept around. How come I get abused when I'm always faithful? Why do I have to be the one that deals with all her shit? God, why doesn't she love me as much as I do her? What more can I give her?

I cried myself out and my thoughts turned to 'what next?' Realistically, was this going to work? I knew that almost a year and a half was a record – by a very long margin – for any sort of relationship with Lena. But could I keep this up? Could I keep absorbing the emotional damage? Being with Lena was sometimes like dating a supernova. Bloody spectacular until you got incinerated. It didn't matter that I loved her. I wasn't sure that I could survive her much longer. Was it better to end it now for her sake as well as mine, while I still had wonderful memories fresh enough in my heart to counteract the acid of our parting?

But I wasn't sure that I could just walk away. Call me a fool, but I loved the girl too much. I knew what breaking up would mean to her. For all her seeming strength, she was emotionally very vulnerable and I shuddered to think what her wild rebound would look like. Forget train wreck, supernova was probably more accurate there too. There was a strong possibility she'd kill herself in the process, either deliberately or by accident. Apart from me, I didn't know anyone in our circle of friends who would be able to be an effective brake for her. Could I live with that on my conscience?

A screech of brakes, a loud horn and the smell of rubber suddenly brought me back to the present. I was standing halfway across an intersection with a warm radiator grill a foot away from me. Cars sped past either side. Somehow I staggered back to the sidewalk with the driver's abuse echoing in my ear.

"Stupid fool girl, don't you know when to walk!"

I clutched a pole, trembling from shock and breathing heavily. Through the rainy mist I looked up to see the red flashing pedestrian signal on the opposite sidewalk. Didn't I know when to walk? Didn't I know when to walk! It was like a sign. Lena was wrong. Facing reality and choosing when to walk is not running away. It's just plain sensible.

I'd decided what to do. I'd go back to our apartment, sleep on the couch and talk with her in the morning. I'd sign the lease on my apartment over to her with a few months rent paid in advance to help her get back on her feet. That bit of security might be enough. It would have to do. Lena was an adult; she could learn to cope the same as the rest of us. Or not. After all, she had choices too and they were hers to make, not mine. With my savings and the new job, I could find a new place readily enough. New place, new job, new life. Sans Lena. Deep breath, Jus, you know you have to do this.




Salt & Vinegar Ch. 04



Now where the hell was I? I looked around and was stunned to see across from me the cafe that I'd seen Lena at this morning. Somehow I'd found my way to where it all started. Was it only half a day ago? It felt like a year. I hailed a cab and deliberately thought of nothing on the way home. No, not home. Lena's apartment.

The cab dropped me a couple of doors up. I fumbled in my pocket for my keys when I felt a hand grip my shoulder.

"Well, hello bitch."

I started to turn. All I got was glimpse of a dark hooded face silhouetted against the dim light from a street lamp before my head was slammed into the wall of the building. I felt the rough bricks tear up my face, my nose break and my cheekbone fracture. Blood everywhere. The pain was intense and I screamed.

"Thinks she can just take my girl, huh. Let's see how she does without her bitch then!"

Sharp pain in my lower back. And again. Dimly I hear shouts and curses, as if from a great distance. Footsteps, running. I slide down the wall as everything goes black.

----------

LENA

The door closed after her. I screamed obscenities. I kicked the couch. I punched the cushions. I threw the cushions. One collected a photograph which fell from the wall. The glass shattered. I didn't care. No wait which one was it? Shit. No, no, no! Not Jus, not that one of Jus! Shit, Lena, what have you done? And I wasn't thinking about the picture.

I ran out into the hall and flew down the stairs. I stood in the rain looking up and down the street. Couldn't see her. I walked slowly back upstairs. I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.

I remember waking in the night to put my arm over Justine. Her side of the bed was cold. She wasn't there. She was never not there. She was the warmth and comfort no blanket could ever give. Shit, Lena, what have you done? It was two in the morning. I rang her mobile. No answer. I left a message. And again every fifteen minutes after.

I must have fallen asleep again because I woke around five to the sound of the door. I dashed out of the bedroom. But it wasn't ours. Must've been John's. I sobbed with frustration and desperate worry. My mobile rang and I ran frantically back to the bedroom.

"Jus, honey, where are you? Hello?"

It wasn't her. Well, it was in a way. Mercy Hospital had rung to say that a young woman had just come out of emergency surgery and was now in a serious condition, recovering in intensive care. She'd had no ID, only a mobile phone on which this number had come up about ten times and did I know who she was?

Oh, Justine. My love, hang on. I'm coming. Please, hang on.

I was running like a maniac around the apartment grabbing stuff to take when there was a knock at the door. At 5 a.m., what the hell! I don't fucking care, they can piss off and I'll tell 'em so on the way out!

Except it was the police.

"Miss Lena Sanchez? We need to ask you a few questions."

"No, please, I've got to get to Mercy. They've just phoned to say my partner's there."

"Yes, we know. That's why we need to ask you a few questions."

"What? What's happened to Justine!"

"Miss Sanchez, we can do this standing in the hall or ..."

Reluctantly, I went back inside. I learnt that Justine had been assaulted and stabbed. Someone had seen the attack and chased her black-haired female assailant before calling 911. A set of keys with a tag for this apartment block had been found on the sidewalk amidst the blood. They'd been working their way up floor by floor when they'd spoken to John across the hall. He'd heard what happened last night. They had an obvious lead. I had no real alibi.

Perhaps my astonishment and genuine worry convinced them. Or at least they were prepared to be open-minded for the present.

"Can you think of anyone who may have had a reason to assault her?"

"No. She's an angel. I can't think of anyone who'd want to hurt her. In fact it's normally her looking out for others. Like last Saturday night, she ..."

I went cold. Oh, shit. Stacy.

I gave them what information I could about her and about Beth too. If she'd gone after Justine, it was a fair bet she'd go looking for Beth as well; if it wasn't too late already. It's what I would have done. Well, I'd made Stacy. I knew how she thought. Shit, Lena, what an absolute fucking mess you've made this time. God, Jus, please forgive me.

All I cared about right now was Justine. The cops 'kindly' gave me a ride to Mercy. I suspect they really wanted to keep tabs on me until they'd followed up the other leads. Conversations over the two-way meant that, by the time we arrived, they'd got enough to let me go with the usual warning about not leaving town etc. I ran into the hospital and frantically abused everyone until I found Justine's room. They almost threw me out until I calmed down enough to be allowed into the ward.

I quietly opened the door. She looked so small in the bed, surrounded by equipment, tubes and other medical shit. Her beautiful eyes were closed and her red hair fanned across the pillow. Her face was white and still. She could have been a marble statue. And then, I crossed the room to the chair on the other side of the bed. On this side, the statue's hair had been cut away with a clinician's surgical efficiency. The face was a crazed, swollen mess of pads and sutures. Red-tinted fluids seeped through dressings. The calm hum and beep of the machines monitoring her vital signs was the only sound, the only indication of life. I sank numbly into the chair and gently took her hand, trembling. My poor, poor girl. Shit, what had I done? Tears ran unchecked down my face. They weren't for me. 

----------

JUSTINE

Pain.

I struggled toward consciousness, wondering if it was worth the effort. The blackness was so much nicer. Anything else hurt too much.

I blinked.

Light. White sheets. Tubes. Hospital?

Makes sense if I hurt this much. No idea why.

"Jus, I'm here honey."

Ah, Lena.

Blackness.

----------

LENA

Her eyelids fluttered. I leaned close and whispered to her. I hope she heard. I think she heard. I saw the beginnings of a smile at the corner of her mouth. I did, I'm sure I did. Oh, baby, hang on. Please, I can't live without you.

Why does it take something like this to make you appreciate what you've got; that only when you're about to lose the most precious thing in your life do you truly understand how much it means to you. And it sounds so incredibly selfish when you say it like that. That it's all about my loss and my feelings and my life. Never mind the poor girl, lying half-dead in this bed, who's only there because of your bloody lunacy and fucking pride. I want to tell her what an idiot I am. A stupid fool who loves her to death, but can't even think about how to beg for forgiveness in the right words and who's crazy enough to hope that maybe, just maybe, she still loves her too. Maybe? Probably not, and I so deserve that. Oh, Jus, I am so, so sorry. 

----------

JUSTINE

Pain, but less. That's good, right?

I slowly open my eyes, getting used to the light. My body feels so heavy. Can I move? Hurts, but yes. That's good too, I guess.

"Oh, look who's awake. How you doin' sugar?"

A nurse smiles warmly at me and begins to check over my charts. I look around slowly. Half watching her and half looking for something else, someone ...

My eyes rest on the chair. It's empty.

"She's in the ward lounge asleep in one of the chairs. She sat with you for about 18 hours. Wouldn't leave. I almost had to carry her out. Want me to wake her for you?"

Lena. I smile. Ow, that hurts. Head shake. Hell, that hurts too.

So tired.

Blackness.

----------

LENA

I wander to the restroom. I look blearily into the mirror as I'm washing my hands. Wow, what a mess. The walking dead.

I find coffee from a vending machine and wander back to Justine's room. The smell of caffeine helps. It burns on the way down, but it feels good.

"Oh, you're up? You just missed her", says a nurse as she leaves the room. "She woke for a minute or so and I told her you were asleep."

"Fuck. I mean, thanks. Sorry."

"No worries, sugar. I understand. Your sister's getting stronger. Making good progress."

She touches me on the arm and smiles as she brushes past. The contact is just slightly less than professional, a little longer than necessary. I recognised the look too. OK, I know I look pretty skanky right now, but coming on to me when my girl's lying there in the bed, what the hell? Oh, hang on. 'Sister'?

"Justine's my partner", I say with a frown.

A quick look of surprise before the professional veneer is restored.

"Ah, that explains it."

I scowl again and walk back into the room. Jus is looking a little better. Less pallor, more colour.

I carefully lie down next to her on her good side and gently lay my head on her shoulder. Underneath all the smell of 'hospital' is the smell of Justine. I can smell her hair, her skin. I can just feel her breath; so faint. My Justine.

So tired. I'll just stay here for a bit ...

Blackness.

----------

JUSTINE

I know that smell. Lena.

I open my eyes and there she is; her head on my shoulder. Strands of her raven hair riot across my chest, the sheet, the pillow. Her hair smells wonderful. She's asleep. I hear her cute little 'wuffle' snore. I can feel she's clasping my hand between us.

"I love you Lena", I murmur in a broken whisper.

A tear rolls down my cheek to drop into that raven hair. I could look at her forever.

Eyelids so heavy.

Blackness.

----------

LENA

It took a week before Justine was conscious for more than a few minutes at a time.

It was another week again before I got her home.

Three weeks without sex. That's got to be a record dry spell! But strangely, I didn't mind. I was happily and completely occupied in looking after Jus. I discovered – possibly for the first time – the pleasure of genuinely caring for someone else. Preparing meals, doing laundry, fetching stuff, giving hugs, helping her bathe (not really a chore that one, God she's beautiful). The light in her gorgeous eyes, her soft smile and the knowledge that she was recovering were all the reward I needed.

I got a giggle out of her when, as a gag, I dressed up in a nurse outfit. Nothing like the uniform at Mercy though. This one would have given elderly male patients heart failure with all that flesh exposed. Jus appreciated it. And just like an old lecher damn if she didn't pinch my ass!

Four weeks and she was up and about. We spent hours on the couch. We talked more I think during that week than in the six months before. Really talked. Not just the chat of the every day, but the deep stuff. About life, about us, about the future.

I really didn't know how to start telling her how I felt; how appalled I was at myself and how desperately I needed her forgiveness. I ran through a hundred conversations in my head and none of them worked. In the end it just sort of came out. I don't even remember what I said. I just bared my soul, the tears running down my cheeks and sobbing 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry' over and over. The darling girl just took my face in her hands, brushed the tears away and looked at me – into me – just like she had that first day at the gallery.

"I forgive you", she said. "I always will. I love you, Lena."

And with those simple words I was absolved. I collapsed into tears again, but this time of relief and love. I gathered her gently into my arms and smothered her with kisses.

----------

JUSTINE

Five weeks later I was almost back to normal. I'd healed well. The surgeon and medical staff at Mercy had done a great job. I had some scarring on my face but it didn't disfigure my features at all. In fact it gave me a slightly rakish appearance.

"You could be a pirate, Jus."

"Arr."

"What the hell was that? That sounded like a rabid kitten. You'll have to do better than that, bitch!"

I could easily cover the scars with make up so they hardly showed. But I also discovered I could highlight them, outlining them and transforming my face into a half war mask which looked, frankly, pretty wicked.

I'd lost weight during my recovery and made a decision to keep some of those pounds off and tone up a bit. Trim and fit, I enjoyed my new self. I'd always had a fairly decent figure – not in Lena's league of course – but now I could easily carry off outfits I really wouldn't have felt comfortable in before. When Lena and I went clubbing we made a smoking hot couple and Lena had to warn off almost as many interested approaches to me as I did for her. It was a novel experience. Apparently low cut jeans, leather, flaming red hair and my war paint made a striking combination. I confess to a little mental 'fist pump' the first time Chrissie saw us out and her jaw dropped.

"Jus? Wow. You look ... incredible. Amazing. Lena, you're in trouble girl. You've got some serious competition there."

"I know. Doesn't she look fucking awesome?"

Somewhere during my recovery, Lena and I had achieved some sort of transference. I'd become a little bolder, more self confident. Perhaps my ordeal had been like a rite of passage. I wore my scars like a badge of honour and took more pride in myself as a result.

Lena had become a little calmer and a little kinder. More thoughtful and considerate. A touch less brash. She helped out more at home. It wasn't just habit from those weeks of looking after me either. She wanted to. Don't get me wrong, she hadn't transformed into a saint – there was still a hell of a lot of the wild old Lena – but somehow she had 'found' herself during my recovery and the quiet self assurance added a depth to her character which made her even more beautiful if that were possible.

I decided to get my first bit of ink. A tattoo which covered the knife scars on my middle and lower back. I'd been really fortunate – a slight shift in angle, a bit more depth and I would have been dead. I decided I needed to celebrate that. I got a full colour piece covering almost half my back. The words 'Lena aeternum' were fully illuminated together with some fine scroll and filigree work which incorporated some of the Japanese peach blossoms which I love from the tattoo on Lena's thigh. It was both beautiful and striking.

----------

LENA

I was stunned when Jus lifted her shirt and turned round to show me. Then I was humbled. Trust Jus to get it in Latin though. I quickly got my camera and spent the next half hour capturing her tattoo from various angles and light settings. Of course we then moved into bolder poses without clothes in which the tattoo was an adjunct feature. And then into stuff without the camera at all.

I held her close as we lay on the couch and I traced the lines with my fingers. Her smooth, white back was marred only by the jagged ridges of the scars, but which the artist had very skilfully disguised by using their texture as part of the overall feel of the work. Goose pimples rose on her flesh as my finger wandered around her back, adding another dimension again to the ink.

I gently kissed each scar and then each part of the tattoo. I worked my way down the curve of her spine to the small of her back, caressing her curves,: softly touching, caressing her with my lips and tongue. I rolled her over and began again at the top. Her gorgeous eyes stated into my soul as I cupped her face with my hands and gently kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw line. I could feel her pulse pounding as I necked her throat. I gently nibbled her ear lobes which set her giggling.

"Stop that, Jus, I'm trying to do some serious work here."

Her eyes twinkled and she stilled. The giggles gave way to a soft sigh as I worked downward over her shoulders. I traced her collarbone with my tongue. I felt her relax and melt into me. I gently lifted an arm and caressed her all the way down, feeling the tone of her muscles; an outward sign of the new-found, inner strength at the core of my lover's being. I was so proud of her and so absolutely thankful to be with her.

Somehow I'd lost those jealous, rebellious feelings. I recognised and truly appreciated the rare worth of what I had with Justine. It was something very few people had. I was privileged to have her in my life and to share mine with her.

I stroked her arms gently then took her hands in mine. I kissed her wrist, her palm and the tips of each finger.

She reached up and stroked my cheek. I closed my eyes and enjoyed her satin caress. Then with a moan she reached around my neck and pulled me down toward her and kissed me fiercely.

"Please Lena, my love", she said huskily, "take me."

Permission granted; I changed gear. My touch was firmer. My kisses harder, then savage. I ravaged her breasts, sucking and pulling at her gorgeous dusky pink nipples, hard with need. She groaned as I explored her navel then licked down toward the delicate auburn down of her mound. She ground her hips upwards, urging me to take the final step. I tantalised her awhile longer as I licked the top of her thighs, working my way slowly inward.

She moaned and spread her legs for me; inviting, needing, craving. Her pussy was exquisite. I stopped for a second or two to admire her perfection. Her delicate folds of perfect symmetry. Wet, glistening evidence of her desire. I lowered my mouth and extended my tongue to gently touch her clitoris. The contact was electric. Fuck balls of string and kittens, Justine's pussy is my absolute favourite thing. Jus shuddered as I licked her. She grabbed my head with her hands, pushing me down hard against herself.

I devoted myself to her pleasure. My tongue and fingers exploring her wonderful sex. Her scent, her taste, the velvet feel of her, moist and warm. Without breaking contact, I moved off the couch to kneel beside her, changing my angle so I could trace delicately around her anus with my finger as I continued to devour her.

Her hands moved to my waist, pulling urgently. 

"C'm'here", she grunted thickly.

I threw a leg up over her and she grabbed my hips, pulling me backwards onto her face. If giving Jus cunnilingus is bliss, then her doing me at the same time is heaven. I gasped as she began to match what I was doing to her. Touch for touch, stroke for stroke, lick for lick we worked each other towards a frenzy of need and desire. I felt the first tremors of my orgasm begin and with a savage energy I ravaged Jus, licking and sucking, thrusting my fingers deep within her. Her hips began to rock harder and faster and I knew she was as close as I was.

We came almost together. I screamed as my orgasm ripped from me. Jus sucked thirstily as my juices ran over her mouth onto her chest. She came a second or two later and surprised me with the volume which gushed from her. She wrapped her arms around my hips and hugged me tightly as wave after wave of pleasure racked her. Normally, I'd lick her softly down but this time I continued to savagely suck and lick, desperate for as much of her nectar as I could get.

Spent and exhausted, the tension drained from us and we collapsed to lie against each other. For a minute I couldn't move. Then I slowly raised myself off her and twisted around to lie beside her, my head resting against her cheek. She turned into me, wrapped an arm around me and kissed me long and deep. I could taste myself on her, my saltiness mingling with the sweetness of her lips.

Finally, we broke apart and she snuggled down with her head under my chin, her cheek pillowed on my breast. I felt her deep sigh of contentment. She loves to do this and it's so adorable. She just lies there, touching as much of me as she can and listening to the beat of my heart, feeling the rise and fall of the breath in my chest. It never fails to wake me in me a soft tenderness which is almost foreign to me. I was never sure whether she did it for herself or me. I realise now it's both. She does it for us. 'This is us', it says. Just us. Together.




Salt & Vinegar Ch. 04



I stroked her hair and she tilted her head to look up at me. That light in her eyes takes my breath away.

"Don't move", I whispered softly to her.

I reached back and fumbled for my mobile on the lamp table beside the sofa. I found it, activated the camera and framed her face quickly to take a shot. I looked at the frozen image for a long moment, smiling. I'd finally got her. There, reflected in the deep, inky pools at the centre of those lustrous blue irises was a glint. Everything that was Jus when she opened her soul to you with that look of pure love and trust. Her heart, her love, her very being.

"Show me."

I passed over the phone and she examined the image for a few moments.

"Hey, I actually I look OK."

"OK? You're bloody gorgeous Jus!"

I tossed the phone back on the table and gathered her into my arms again. I nuzzled her neck and then whispered into her ear.

"I love you so much, Justine."

She turned her head to look at me. Those wonderful eyes found mine again.

"I know, babe. I love you too. I'm yours forever."

----------

EPILOGUE: JUSTINE

So here we were. Two lovers, heads together in that precious moment which someone years ago likened to breathing forth our love for each other, letting our souls blend in a soft whisper. Salt and vinegar? I wasn't so sure any more. We're still very different but we've got a little bit more of each other in us now. More yin and yang perhaps; two halves of a whole. No longer separate elements thrust together in a savage, chaotic fusion, but a more balanced, calmer, twin-soul being.

I was idly musing on this to Lena later that night as I stripped the covers from the couch for their next trip to the dry cleaners. She was framing her picture of me. It was destined for the wall montage and she'd spent a good part of the afternoon rearranging the entire collection around it. She'd finally got it to her satisfaction and I had to admit I liked the idea of me on display, centred there amongst Lena's treasured work. It gave me a warm, gooey feeling.

"What the fuck are you rambling on about Jus?" she asked distractedly as she reassembled the backing and frame. 

"I'm 'rambling', you insensitive girl, about us. How we've each changed and become a little bit less different and more, sort of, blended. You know, like oil and water emulsified in salad dressing."

"You talk the weirdest shit sometimes, Jus, you know that right? Wait, I've got it."

She looked over at me with a raised eyebrow and a dirty smirk.

"Not salad dressing – 'sauce'!"

We both roared with laughter. I dropped the cushion covers and walked toward her with open arms.

"So are you done with that frame yet? Come to bed you saucy bitch." 

----------

FIN

A note for those interested in literary details. The word 'aeternum' in Justine's tattoo is Latin for 'forever'. In the first paragraph of this last section, Justine is paraphrasing (somewhat out of context) part of a quotation from 19th century Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard.

Finally, I hope you enjoyed the Salt & Vinegar series as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks to everyone who read, scored and provided feedback, encouraging me to expand Lena and Justine's adventures beyond the initial story.

Jett



Salt & Vinegar



If some charm reader had said to me that, six months out of college, I'd meet my soul mate and fall hopelessly in love, I'd have smiled and thought it the usual generic 'dark-haired stranger' drivel. Interesting, in a hopeful sort of way, but not really that likely. If they'd added that, specifically, said soul mate would be raven-haired (not just 'dark'), and a girl with killer looks, and that amazing, mind-blowing sex was mine for the asking whenever and as often as I wanted, day or night, I would have thought they were seriously deranged. Well, who knew?

Look at her. My God, she's amazing. She's my lover and my life. We rub each other the wrong way all the time. Like salt and vinegar. Yet somehow we go together. So different, but sort of complimentary. Her strength, my sensitivity. Her courage, my caution. Her art, my science. Her dark, my light. We fight as much as we fuck. Which means, by the way, that we fight quite a lot.

"Hey, what's going on in that clever little red head of yours?"

"Want to guess?"

"Playing hard to get are we, bitch?"

"You get three."

"Alright. You were hoping I was bringing you a can too? You want to shag me? You want me to shag you? Any of those?"

"Three out of three actually. Come here gorgeous!"

----------

PS: For anyone who's interested, the poem Lena was trying to recall is from Fragments on Love and Desire, a collection of stanzas from Sappho's unfinished (or incomplete) works. It's number IX, also known as "Like the Sweet Apple". There are various translations. The one Lena read to Justine was:

Like the sweet apple that reddens

At end of the bough --

Far end of the bough --

Left by the gatherer's swaying,

Forgotten, so thou.

Nay, not forgotten, ungotten,

Ungathered (till now).