7 comments/  27786 views/  16 favorites

Trust Comes Easy Ch. 01

By: Rogue Writer



(FF, FFF, exhibitionism, toys, threesome, drugs, violence, death, destruction of a high-grade printer)

AUTHOR NOTE: If you like this hilariously grim little tale, read some of my other equally uninspired fiction:

After the Party

Daphne's New Life

How I Spent My Summer Vacation by Carol Hitchcock

A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad

Screwing My Ex

They came out in that order, and according to one reader I got better as I went along, so do yourself a favor and read them in order to avoid getting disappointed by my early lack of skills.

DISCLAIMER: Pay attention! This story is fiction and not meant to do anything more than entertain, don't read this stuff with any intention other than having a good time, don't take life too seriously and don't swim after you've just eaten. Isn't it stupid that I have to write these warnings in case someone goes out and does something bad because of what they read in my story? What's happened in our society to cause this? I know, I know, lawsuit-happy people and the lawyers who run commercials that inspire them. Now you have to put warning labels on everything. And I understand that some things need warning labels. Hydrochloric acid -- big warning label on that one. With letters four feet tall. But I don't need a cup of coffee with a warning label that says it's hot. I know it's hot. I wanted it hot! Well, not that hot. I take it light, actually.

*

1.

Florida, several years ago...

As the woman who had called herself Michelle finished dressing, her eyes kept going over to the dead body on the bed. It fascinated her how just a few short minutes ago the woman laying there was alive, talking, laughing, writhing in the throws of passion, and now all that was left was the shell, a motionless body growing cold and a pair of eyes that looked at nothing. No, they did look at something; they looked towards the window and the sunlight streaming in through the sheer drapes. But the eyes had nowhere to report that information to, since the brain had stopped functioning, along with all the other parts in one of the most complex organisms on the planet.

And Michelle was the one who had stopped it. She had stuck the knife into Doctor Sara Gold's heart, ending her thirty-nine year old life. Right up to the moment she'd done it Michelle felt fear and anxiety because this was the first time she was going to kill someone. But just after, she felt something she didn't expect -- power. It was the kind of power she hadn't felt in months, the kind of power she used to feel when someone put their financial future in her hands, the kind of power that told her she was special, above other people. This was why she couldn't stop looking at the body, because every second she spent with it she felt that power.

Another unexpected surprise was that she didn't feel a shred of sympathy or sorrow. Instead of feeling bad, she felt like she had done the woman a favor. Last week Sara spoke about hating that she would soon turn forty, an age she associated with older people. Now Doctor Sara Gold would remain thirty-nine forever. It was the least Michelle could do for the woman, given how much Sara had done for her over the past three months. Doctor Gold was a plastic surgeon, and a decent amount of work had been done to change Michelle's appearance. Now, along with a dye job that made her a redhead, she looked different enough to make a second-guesser out of anyone who knew her back in New York, and most likely she wouldn't be recognized at all by some cop who'd only seen a 'Wanted' poster. 

All that work had been done for free, thanks to the false sob story Michelle had spun the night they met at a local lesbian club -- a viciously abusive girlfriend, a late night getaway, the girlfriend tracking her down wherever she went, feeling like there was no where left to turn. Sara offered to let Michelle stay at her place, and it wasn't long before they were involved physically and romantically. The romance part was important. Michelle expressing her love for Sara but knowing that staying there might be dangerous for both of them if the ex-girlfriend showed up, then Sara getting the idea to use her skills to change Michelle's appearance. 

That's the key to any good con -- always let the mark think they came up with the idea on their own. Michelle had labeled Sara as a mark from the second she saw her car pull into the club's parking lot, where she watched from the shadows to pick out who drove in with the most expensive wheels. Sara's was a Mercedes Benz with a bumper sticker on it, something for a stray animal shelter. Anyone who puts a bumper sticker on an expensive car like that is the kind of person who puts their heart before their wallet. All Michelle had to do was provide Sara a stray to take home.

On her way out of the bedroom Michelle wiped down wherever she remembered touching today. For the past three months she had always been careful about remembering what she touched when Sara was around and then wiping it down afterwards. Whenever Michelle was in the house alone she made sure to wear some of the rubber gloves a doctor like Sara had in multitudes. It made for lots of work, and all because she had made a Stupid Move, one that had put her fingerprints in the system forever.

That mistake happened back in college, where she got arrested for stealing a car as part of a sorority initiation. Daddy had the power to fix it, to get her out before a bail hearing and have her record expunged like it never happened. But he did nothing, just let her sit in jail for the night and let the arrest stand on her record. She even had to hire her own lawyer and go to court. Luckily it was knocked down to community service and a fine. Afterwards, she asked Daddy why he'd let her go through all that when he had the power to fix it, and he said it was to teach her a lesson. She told him she knew it was wrong and she was sorry. That wasn't the lesson, he said. Plenty of people break the law or do things that are morally wrong, and people with power actually need to do those things if they want to gain and keep power.

The lesson was not to get caught.

In the kitchen Michelle wiped the knife clean of blood and fingerprints and put it in a plastic sandwich bag. She put the bag in her purse, grabbed a manila folder and keys from the kitchen counter, and went to the back door. Michelle cracked it open and looked around, trying to see if any of the neighbors were out and about. All clear. She locked the door and shut it, then strode across the backyard, stopping to pick up a decent sized stone from the rock garden, and finally down to the dock where she got into Doctor Sara Gold's boat. It was a twenty-foot motorboat that could do eighty miles per hour on the open water; full of gas and supplies for the trip they had planned. Michelle started it up and cruised out to sea. The sun was starting its downward trek on a Friday afternoon, and no one expected to see Sara Gold until Monday morning, plenty of time to get south of the border. Once there, Michelle would sell the boat and buy a few documents, then take a plane to somewhere in South America.

When she was out far enough that she couldn't see land, Michelle stopped the boat, took out the manila folder and opened it. Inside was the medical file that Sara had created for her. It was under the false name she was using, but there were also pictures of Michelle from before and after the surgery, not something she could leave behind. She tore it up page by page, into the smallest pieces she could, before tossing them overboard. That felt symbolic for Michelle, like she was literally tossing her old identity away. Now she could start new. 

Only one piece of business left. 

She took out the knife in the plastic bag, opened it and put the stone from the rock garden inside. Just as she was about to toss it overboard Michelle saw the distorted reflection of her face in the knife, and that feeling of power came back. Suddenly she wished she could keep the blade, so every time she looked at it she was reminded of the power. That reminded her of a sad fact -- all the things she'd had, all the things she'd worked for years to build, were forever lost. She'd fled New York with almost nothing, no mementos of what had been her power. If she could keep this one thing... 

No. That was the Stupid Move. Her father always taught her to avoid making the Stupid Move, the one that separated the successful from the losers. She tossed the bag overboard and it disappeared below the surface. Michelle started up the boat and headed south with an empty feeling in her gut, wanting to feel that power again.

2.

New Jersey, yesterday...

"Maggie, I've got to leave soon," Rich said.

I forced a smile. "I'll have it on your desk, don't worry."

Rich walked off and I got back to work. It was Friday afternoon and I was sitting in my area of the lab, rushing to get my part of a formula for a big project finished so I wouldn't have to take any work home. My girlfriend and I were planning to spend the weekend relaxing at our apartment, watching movies, eating take-out and having sex. The only two things that would cause us to get up from the couch were the party we were throwing Saturday night and a romantic picnic on Sunday afternoon. The past two months had been full of busy work, running errands, helping a friend move, and organizing not one but three events for charitable causes Kaye is involved in. So we planned to use this weekend for spending some "just us" time together. 

I couldn't wait, and not only because the "just us" time involved copious amounts of getting slutty with each other. At the picnic on Sunday I planned to ask Kaye to fly with me to Amsterdam sometime soon and get married, which is legal there and not in the land of the free. This will be a shock to my friends, who have labeled me Miss Anti-Romance. It will be even more of a shock because Kaye and I have only been dating for eight months, but the truth is our relationship has been nothing less than extraordinary. We made love on our first date, despite the fact that she had a personal law against sex on a first date, and several days later we said "I love you" to each other without the slightest hesitation or fear.

The only hitch in the plan for this weekend was the gig I have to play tonight. Since I was eight I've played the violin, and these days I earn some extra money as part of a quartet that hires out for parties and social functions. The gig had been booked a few weeks ago, before Kaye and I planned the down time. Tonight was a dinner benefit for some charity and I'd already cleared leaving work early with my boss. 

But now the project deadline had changed and I had to finish before Monday. I couldn't be late to the benefit, so if I didn't finish now that meant I'd have to finish it at home. Kaye would be pissed and I didn't want to pop the question to her when she was angry. My eyes kept looking at the clock, like it was going to somehow have sympathy for me and slow down. But there were forty minutes before I had to leave and more than an hour's worth of work to be done. This was too much stress to be under just before my pleasure weekend. 

Little did I know that was the calm before the storm.

It took an extra ten minutes, but I managed to finish everything, put it on a memory stick and toss it to the project manager before running out the door. Forget the elevator, I flew down the stairs, jumped in my car and zipped out of the parking garage with tires screeching. The first red light was when I felt it, that incredible sense of relief that washed over me followed by a burst of excitement. I blasted Black Flag's 'Rise Above' on my stereo. Rolling down the window I screamed, "Yeahhhhh!" and started screaming the lyrics at the top of my lungs. The people in the next car looked at me like I had three heads.

I felt my phone vibrating and turned down the music. It was Kaye. No surprise she was home already since schoolteachers have those hours.

"Hey Pookie," I answered. That was my pet name for her.

"Hey sexy girl. I've got a surprise. You will never guess who I have sitting next to me."

"Oprah Winfrey?"

"No."

"Gwenyth Paltrow?"

"No."

"Paris Hilton?"

"Ew!"

"Elmo?"

"Stop it! I said you'd never guess! Now I hope you don't mind, but I've offered to let her stay the night..." 

"I thought this was a weekend alone."

"I know, I know, but she just came in from out of town, showed up here as a surprise for you. One of your ex's."

That caught me off guard. "Okay, now you have to tell me who it is."

"No I don't. But maybe I can narrow things down. Let's just say she hinted at the idea of the three of us having some fun together."

That really didn't narrow things down very much. I've never been the romantic type, at least not before I met Kaye, so many of the girls I've ended up with were keen to having threesomes or moresomes. One girlfriend deemed me a sex addict, which I didn't argue with. Sex is fun. Sex feels great. Love hurts.

"So you okay with this?" Kaye asked. When I took a second to think she added, "C'mon, you know you want to say yes!"

That's my Little Miss Fun Time. Kaye loves to party, and if you're on the fence about staying out too late or drinking too much or taking one more hit on the joint, she'll be the one who kicks you over the edge and then jumps in right after. Funny thing is you wouldn't know it if you met her at her job. During the day she's an eighth grade English teacher, and most of her students come to her without the ability to read. A good number of her students are in gangs, and from what she tells me the girls are more vicious than the boys. Yet Kaye maintains order and her students leave the class with better grades and test scores than they came in with. Those who've had her know she's strict and doesn't put up with any shit, and the ones who haven't learn quickly. Meanwhile, I get to experience Kaye the rest of the time, where she turns into Lindsey Lohan on crack.

"Come on!" she chided. "You know, for someone who looks like a Blink 182 groupie you can be a big tight ass!"

My eyes darted to my bag on the passenger seat. Inside was a box holding identical silver rings, each inscribed with 'Maggie and Kaye forever'. I worried about this surprise visitor having some bad effect on my plans for Sunday. But then again I understood why Kaye was so gung ho about this. She'd never been in a threesome before, and even though she's always been open to the idea circumstances seemed to forever align against her. Most of the women she dated before either weren't into it or just when it seemed like they were warming up to the idea the relationship ended. And when she finally finds someone who is all about open sexual relationships, namely me, the aforementioned busy period of our lives swept in on us.

"All right," I said, "that's fine."

"Great. We're going to grab some dinner while I try to pry out some embarrassing stories about you. Have fun playing. Love you."

3.

The benefit was being held in some rich bigwig's mansion. A tuxedoed guard stationed at the bottom of the driveway directed me to park around the back by the servant's entrance, presumably so my ten year-old VW Rabbit didn't show up all the Benzes and Cadillacs and Jaguars out front. I grabbed my violin and my dress and ran inside, ducking into a bathroom where I quickly changed and then made my way to the foyer, which was bigger than my apartment. The other three members of the group were already there warming up. As I took out my instrument I got a hard glare from Robert Hanson, our self appointed leader, who is also a certified asshole.

"You're late," he spewed. Then he craned his neck towards me and stared at my arms. Hanson is certain that one day he'll find track marks there, since he firmly believes that anyone who looks like me will end up on heroin.

"Stop trying to look down my dress, asshole" I said loud enough to be heard by the few guests who were standing nearby. As Hanson smiled and waved at the startled guests I began playing to drown out any further bullshit he wanted to throw my way. There were lots of things Hanson didn't like about me, which he had made clear soon after he took over the group. He didn't like my tattoos, at least the ones he could see, which were a big black 'X' on my arm, a broken heart on my ankle and a bar code on the back of my neck, and my piercings, which were in my nose and lower lip (I did diamond studs for gigs), and several in each ear. He also didn't like how I cut my dark hair, which was shorter in the back and longer in the front, or that I dyed one lock purple. He dislikes liberals, and he dislikes liberal lesbians even worse. I told Hanson that the only thing that really bothers me about him is that his hairpiece reminds me of Rose, the poodle I had when I was little. But he couldn't throw me out of the group without cause, mostly because he sensed that the other two wouldn't stay, and good players were hard to find.

We started on Vivaldi while people walked in and ate Hors d'Oeuvres and chatted. They wore expensive clothes and jewelry and talked of tax shelters and country clubs and constantly smiled at the joy of being privileged. A few of them stood in front of us and watched us play as they made comments to each other. 'This is what a fish must feel like,' was our joke in the quartet. I caught sight of a girl, maybe sixteen, standing next to a young boy around her age who flirted with her as they laughed and smiled. When I was her age I was sleeping in parks and sticking my head in dumpsters behind restaurants looking for food. I looked at the girl and thought it must be nice to not have a care in the world. 

Suddenly a fortyish woman came up behind the two teens. They turned and the woman gave a stare that quickly sent the boy away. She shot the girl a stern look and it wasn't hard to tell they were mother and daughter. The daughter looked down sheepishly as the mother whispered angrily in her ear. Then the woman took her daughter by the shoulders and spun her, proceeded to wipe some crumbs off the girls dress and adjusted it to her liking. As they walked off, with the mother leading the daughter by the hand, I discarded my previous thought and remembered the grass is always greener when you're not standing in it.

During the performance my mind kept wandering to whom Kaye was with. It could be Beth Larson, since she always had the bad habit of dropping by unannounced, or Ginny Roberts, who does everything on the spur of the moment. If it was Pam Grace it meant she needed money. Then a truly horrible possibility entered my head -- Sarah Rosenberg. Please, please, don't let it be Sarah Rosenberg. That girl could talk for five hours straight before she needed to break for air.

Dinner was announced and everyone filed into the dining area. That gave us an hour break and I stepped outside for a cigarette and a phone call. I was going to demand Kaye tell me which ex she was with, mostly because I needed to know what embarrassing stories from my past were coming up. I dialed her cell phone, thinking they might still be out to dinner, and it rang and rang and I started to get worried. But then there was a click and some noise like the phone was being fumbled in her hand. Kaye finally came on the line with, "Hey sweetie!"

"Pookie, who are you with?"

"I can't tell you that, but I can tell you that she...oooh..."

"Kaye?"

"Yes...yesssss."

"Are you having sex with her?"

"A little. Uhhhhh, Jesus. Are you mad? You always talked about an open sexual relationship, but I didn't know if that...that..." She gasped. "That meant sex without each other, or the other present, or, ah, or...you know what I'm saying."

"Yes, it's okay," I reassured her.


Trust Comes Easy Ch. 01



"Good. 'Cause she said having a little warm up was a good thing, mmmmmmmespecially to get you hot. She said you liked that sort of thing. Sssso we're videotaping it to sh...sh...ow you later."

I had to admit, talking to my girlfriend on the phone while she was having sex was getting me hot. Whoever this ex was, she had my number. Then suddenly a bad thought entered my mind. "Um, Kaye, how do you even know she is who she says she is?" 

My mouth stumbled over the awkward statement and that made Kaye giggle. "She showed me a, ah, picture of the two of you. You were cute with long hair."

That did narrow down the possibilities. I'd cut my hair a month after college, and dated only fifteen girls during school, compared to the twenty-six I'd dated in the five years since I graduated. Remember, sex addict yes, romantic, not really.

Trying to catch her breath, Kaye said, "Just get your butt home...when you're done. We'll try to save enough energy for, uh, round with you. Love you!"

She hung up before I had a chance to speak. I didn't care Kaye was having sex with another girl, because one of the things that made me realize she is "The One" was how we agree about our relationship. While we both feel our hearts belong to one another, we agree that our bodies should be allowed to play with whomever they want. Even though Kaye grew up privileged in Connecticut she had grown away from conservative ideas quickly. I grew up in very different circumstances, but my experiences had turned me off from society's idea of what a "loving" relationship should be. I could never survive in a monogamous relationship, and knew I had to have a partner that felt the same. The last place I expected to find such a partner was in an elementary school.

Kaye and I first met when my friend Lisa was doing her student teaching. I'm a chemical engineer and Lisa brought me in as a guest speaker to demonstrate how chemicals work in the world. Lisa and I knew each other through our college radio station when we had shows back to back. I played punk rock and would usually stay afterwards to hang out during her show, cleverly titled 'Goth That' and we became good friends. Lisa still dresses like she did in college, all black with the occasional red plaid skirt thrown in. It was fun to watch the most timid girl I'd ever known get up in front of a classroom full of rowdy, inner city eighth graders and try to keep them in line, much less teach them anything.

"Class," Lisa said. The roomful of kids were laughing and talking, screaming and yelling. "Class!" she tried again. They went on like she wasn't even there.

I'd just decided to help Lisa in my typical subtle fashion by screaming, "Shut the fuck up!" when suddenly the room became as quiet as a tomb. All the kids sat at their desks like perfect little angels, their eyes towards the door. Standing in the doorway was a woman. She smiled at them and said, "Good morning class."

In one collective sing-song voice they kids responded, "Good morning Miss Foster."

"Work on your journals for ten minutes and then we'll start."

The kids took out notebooks and started writing. Miss Foster walked up to us. She was about my age, twenty-six or so, with wavy auburn hair that came down to her shoulders and an apple nose with light sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. Just looking at her made me hold my breath. She gave Lisa a friendly smile.

"Thanks," Lisa said shyly.

"Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it. Before they trust you to discipline them they need to get to know you. Speaking of which..." She turned her gaze to me and suddenly there was this spark, a flash behind her eyes that said I wasn't the only one eager to meet.

"Oh, Kaye this is Maggie, my friend who's giving the talk today. Mags this is Kaye, she's my teaching mentor."

When our hands reached out and took hold of each other it was totally by instinct, because our eyes never left each other. "Very glad to meet you," she said.

I finally found my breath and managed to say, "Same here."

I got through the presentation without a problem. The kids laughed at my jokes, and I did an interactive thing where I assigned each kid to be an element, made them stand together with elements of the same family and showed what happened when certain elements mixed together. At one point I caught sight of Kaye sitting in the corner, smiling at me, and that's when I wasn't making a joke.

Walking down the hallway after my presentation, I was nearly jumping out of my skin. "What the hell happened to you?" Lisa asked.

"Lis, that girl is so into me."

"Who, Kaye? You're kidding! How could you tell? Is this that gaydar thing?"

"No, this is that I could tell she was as into me as I'm into her thing. Like when you met John."

Lisa looked back towards the classroom and then at me with a skeptical look on her face. "I don't know Mags."

"Why?"

"If it was like the kind of thing that happened when John and I met, how come I didn't notice it?"

"Lis, you've got something on your shirt." I pointed my finger at her chest, and when she looked down I brought my finger up and bopped her nose, making it the four millionth time I've done that since we met. "Because you can be a space cadet Lis, that's why."

"Funny. At lunch, I might have another space cadet moment and drop my vanilla shake in your lap."

"It'll be okay, I'm wearing white pants." We walked to the parking lot before I worked up the courage to ask, "Any other reason you think I'm off about Kaye?"

Lisa turned and twirled her hair between her fingers. "Kaye just gets excitable sometimes. Remember when we saw Quentin Tarintino on Letterman and he was all hyper and nutty? She's like that, just not as annoying."

I held up a finger. "But he still makes great movies."

"Oh hell yeah. He should make Kill Bill 3: The Ghost of Bill."

Disappointment must have shown on my face because Lisa's shoulders slumped and she sighed and said, "Look, maybe tomorrow I could talk to her about you. Kind of feel her out."

I kissed Lisa on the cheek. "Thank you, best friend."

"Uh uh. This one doesn't come cheap."

"Does this mean you're not paying for lunch?"

The next day Lisa called me at work sounding uncharacteristically upbeat. "I talked to Kaye."

I said, "Give it to me."

"Okay, when I got there Kaye was at her desk grading stuff. So I asked her what she thought of my lesson plan and she said it was great, and then I ask her what she thought of your presentation and she said it was outstanding."

"Outstanding?"

"Outstanding. So of course I had this moment of jealousy because she said my lesson plan was just great and not outstanding but then I got over it when I remembered that she might want to get slutty with you."

"That's progress."

"I know, because normally I'd be freaked about it for the rest of the day but I was over it in a few seconds. So then I said, "Maggie really liked meeting you." And she said, "Yeah, she seems really cool."

"Really cool?"

"Really cool. I wasn't sure if that was in a friendly way or a more than friendly way. So I said, "Listen, Maggie has this theory about you and I told her I wasn't sure about it and I kind of wanted to ask you about it and I wasn't sure how to bring it up and..."

I impatiently said, "And..."

"And that's as far as I got because I was obviously beating around the bush and like I said she can be a little hyper. So she puts her hands up to stop me and said, "Yes, I'm gay, yes I'm available, yes I'm interested." Oh, and she also said, "Yes, I will kill you if you tell anyone at school that I'm gay."

I screamed out loud and did a stupid happy dance and tripped over my coffee table and fell on the floor. But I was still screaming. I continued to do so for a few moments before remembering Lisa. When I grabbed the phone all I heard was dial tone. I figured she was irritated by my screaming and hung up, but then ten minutes later an ambulance crew and the police showed up and it turned out she thought I was either having a heart attack or that someone broke into the apartment and was jumping me. That's my Lisa.

4.

I didn't get home from the benefit until a little after nine. When I stepped off of the elevator I could hear the music from my apartment at the other end of the hall. It sounded like they were in full party mode and probably wouldn't be too long before someone called the cops. I was fishing my keys out of my pocketbook when the door across the hall opened and my neighbor stepped out. I think his name was Mike, and he was a slight, quiet man who had moved in with his wife a few months ago. They weren't very talkative people so we didn't know them very well. I hadn't seen the wife in a few weeks and just the other day Miss Prescott, the building gossip queen, told me the wife had moved out. She didn't know why for certain, but the way the guy moped around it was a good bet the wife left him. Mike looked up at me and gave me the sad stare he'd been wearing lately. 

I gave him a guilty smile and said, "Sorry about the noise. I'll turn it down when I get inside."

"It's okay," he said. "I'm going out." His eyes went towards the carpet. "My first time in a singles bar in eight years."

I looked at him and struggled for something to say. Nothing was coming and I simply said, "Good luck." It sounded weak.

"Thanks," he said. I watched him walk up the hall and wanted to say something else. Part of my brain said to leave it be, not to get involved with someone else's problem. The other part of my brain just got disgusted with that thought. As Mike got in the elevator I made a promise to myself to talk to him more the next time I saw him.

Then I turned to the apartment door and quietly said to myself, "Please not Sarah Rosenburg."

When I walked into the apartment Kaye was sitting on a chair in the living room. As she got up and came towards me I had a chance to do what I love to do -- stare at the beauty that owns my heart. She was wearing a sports bra top and a pair of black yoga pants, which allowed me to appreciate her teardrop breasts, her taut stomach, the curve of her thighs, and the beautifully sculpted bare feet with a silver toe ring on her right index toe. Kaye goes to the gym regularly and is proud of her body, especially since she was a little pudgy as a kid. She's not painfully thin like a celebrity and not muscular like the weightlifting steroid queens, her body has a nice hourglass shape to it. In order to accent this, Kaye loves wearing belly chains. Tonight she wore a silver chain with colored beads hanging around the length of it. Kaye loves wearing belly chains as much as I love watching her in them.

As soon as she got to me Kaye gave me a passionate kiss, a big hug, and then stuck a drink in my hand. "You need to catch up, quickly."

While Kaye loved to workout, she also loved to drink and smoke pot. It was one of the contradictions that I loved about her.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a woman standing on the other side of the room, facing my Rembrandt print. When she turned it took me a few seconds to recognize her, but once I did I'd have traded anything in the world to be listening to Sarah Rosenberg for the rest of the night. Plastic surgery had altered her face, which was no big surprise, and the only reason I even thought of Amanda Gailing was because she's the one who gave me the print. But the fact that she was standing in my living room after four years was nothing less than shocking. You rarely expect the fugitive criminals you've known to come back into your life. 

Finding out what she told Kaye about me suddenly took on a whole new importance. 

"Hey stranger," she said, her voice sounding like we were friends who parted amicably. It took every ounce of will power I had to not grab the closest sharp object and lunge at her throat.

"H-hey. What are you doing...here?"

She walked over to me. "Just happened to be back in town and thought I'd look up a familiar face." She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. 

"Yours isn't so familiar anymore," I said. When I first met her she was a brunette. The woman who stood before me had blonde hair, with higher cheekbones and a wider smile than she used to have. A pair of very full, and very sexy, Angelina Jolie style lips accented that smile. But those smoky bedroom eyes hadn't changed one bit, and neither had the message her smile conveyed. When I first met her I thought it was saying, "I'm wild", but three years later I knew I had misread it. Her smile was giving away her true nature. It was saying, "I'm trouble". 

Suddenly Kaye took the drink from my hand and brought it to my lips. "Less talking more drinking," she said. Between the big, shit eating grin on her face and a playful look in her eyes I could tell Kaye was drunk.

We all sat down. "So," I said to Kaye, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. "What lies has she been telling you about me?"

"None! She's good! I couldn't get a thing out of her. Actually we spent most of the time talking about me."

Amanda smiled. "Yes, and I must say she's everything I expected you'd end up with Maggie." Her face twisted a little. "Except for the fact that she's not out. Never thought you'd stand for a closet case."

"I'm only not out at work," Kaye corrected. "And that's just because the principal is a raging homophobic asshole who's got the school board in his pocket."

I noticed a small silver video camera on the coffee table. "Whose is that?"

"Amanda's" Kaye said. "She suggested we make that hot video of what we were doing before. Make you jealous. I like the way she thinks."

"She is a little devil," I said. 

Amanda smiled at me again, and I vowed that somehow I'd punch her before she left. Then I had to ask Amanda the question I'd been dreading since I walked in the door. "So, what have you been up to?"

Amanda smiled that fiendish smile again, stole a glance at Kaye, and said, "Thought you'd never ask." 

Motherfucker, I thought, she's enjoying this. I knew she hadn't told Kaye a thing about the past, because Kaye would have beheaded me the moment I walked through the door. But then I started to worry that the bitch was waiting until I got home before she fucked up my life just for the fun of it. That's when I realized my predicament -- I couldn't warn Kaye about Amanda without exposing things I didn't want Kaye to know about me. I just had to hope that whatever brought Amanda here would be resolved quickly. And that it didn't have anything to do with us.

"I've been traveling a lot," Amanda said. "You know, with work and all. I explained to Kaye that's why we haven't seen each other in so long. The world is my office."

"Now that's a cool fucking job," Kaye said, "working for an international hotel chain, going to exotic places and acting like a guest to check out the service."

"Yeah," I said. "Amanda always was able to get away with the craziest things. She's practically a criminal." I smiled at Amanda. She didn't look worried in the least. I realized there was something about Amanda that wasn't there four years ago. Beyond the obvious physical changes there was something even bigger that was different under the surface. It was in the way she had moved when she came towards me, the way her arms hung at her sides, the way she smiled, the way she looked at me and everything else in the room. It annoyed me that I couldn't put my finger on it, because whatever it was, my mind was telling me to be frightened of it.

The CD player was on shuffle and a song by the Sneaker Pimps started. Amanda looked at me. "Remember this?" She turned to Kaye. "This was our song back in the day. We loved dancing to it. And fucking to it."

Kaye's eyes widened. I knew she was turned on, by Amanda's candor and the sultry glance I received after she said it. "Well," Kaye said as she picked up the remote and switched to another song. "We don't want to get too ahead of ourselves." She chose a dance song and stood up, offering a hand to each of us. Amanda and I stood and the three of us started to dance together.

We worked our bodies to the rhythm, occasionally taking turns grinding up to each other. There was also laughter and goofiness and for a few minutes I forgot I was in the company of one of the most treacherous women I'd ever met.

At one point Kaye reached over and turned down the volume. "I hate to be a downer, but I need to take a break." She started walking away.

I was a little out of breath when I asked, "Where are you going?" 

In a proper tone, she responded, "To fire some ass monkeys into the toilet."

There was a pause, and then we all burst out laughing. Not a giggly laugh, but a full-blown go-until-you-can't-breathe-anymore laugh. It took almost a minute for us to settle down, but then Kaye lost it again and Amanda and I followed suit. Eventually I controlled myself enough to ask, "Where the hell did you get that?"

Kaye had been laughing so hard that tears were coming from her eyes. Between giggles she said, "One of my kids. It took everything I had not to laugh while I told him that's not the way to ask about going to the bathroom."

That sent us into a laughing fit again, and it was another minute before Kaye could function enough to walk away. Amanda and I were trying to catch our breaths, still having the occasional chuckle, when I heard the bathroom door shut. My laughter stopped on a dime, my smile dropped and my tone became serious as I gave Amanda a hard look and said, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Her smile widened and she shook her head. "Well, well, not much has changed. You're still all business." 

"You want money? I'll give it to you. Just get out of here once you have it."

"And miss all the fun of watching you squirm? Little Miss Serious, always making plans and plotting your every move. Just the possibility that you might fall apart is worth sticking around for."

"Stick around much longer and I might have to call the police. They'd love to sit and talk with you, wouldn't they?"

"You're not going to call the police. Then you might have to explain our past to Kaye. I don't think she'll want to be your sweetheart much longer after that."

I let my anger get away from me. "Bitch!"

I threw a fist at her, but she caught it in her hand. My other hand grabbed her throat and she grabbed mine. Her arms were skinny but proved to be all muscle as she wrestled me down on the couch. I pressed my thumb onto her windpipe, but other than a little gagging she showed no sign that I was hurting her. She got her fist away from my hand and pried my other one off her neck, then grabbed a throw pillow and covered my face with it. Suddenly I couldn't breathe. I kicked and threw my fists at her body but I couldn't see where I was aiming. Amanda pressed the pillow harder and I thought she was going to kill me.

Then she pulled it off and I coughed and gasped for air. When I looked up Amanda was putting the pillow back in place. I couldn't stop coughing as I heard the end of the toilet flushing. Amanda helped me up to a sitting position and started rubbing my back.

Kaye stepped into the doorway. She was stark naked.

My body actually stopped coughing for a moment. Amanda said, "So much for not getting ahead of ourselves." And then I started coughing again.

Kaye looked at me with concern. "Babe, are you okay?"

"Just..." I coughed twice and then held up my glass, "...went down the wrong pipe."

She walked in and my coughing started to subside as I admired her. I loved looking at the curve of her pert breasts, which were capped with small pink areolas, and her nipples were like hard pebbles on top. Her mound had a strip of brown hair that she kept neatly trimmed. Kaye walked over to the table and picked up the camera, turned and started hooking it up to the television. Her lovely toned ass commanded our attention, the small butterfly tattoo on her right cheek somehow managing to enhance its perfection.




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 01



Kaye sat between us on the couch, placing her hands on our legs. The screen flickered and came to life, a shot of the very couch we were sitting on. Kaye sat there dressed in a blue sweater and dark skirt, the outfit she'd worn to work earlier that day. Amanda walked into the shot and sat down. They stared at each other for a few moments, but the eager anticipation in their eyes was obvious. Kaye looked hesitant, like she wanted to move towards Amanda, her upper body slightly rocking back and forth, but something kept her from following through. Amanda simply sat there, half a smile on her face, and that thing about her that I couldn't put my finger on came back into my mind. I still couldn't figure out what it was, and my hand balled into a fist at the frustration. 

Then almost simultaneously they moved toward each other and started kissing. There were no light pecks and it was neither soft nor tender, just an open mouthed sloppy wet kiss full of passion. I could just imagine Kaye sitting through dinner in some restaurant with Amanda, trying to contain all her bottled up excitement at finally getting into a threesome, and with the beautiful creature sitting in front of her no less.

As on-screen Kaye enjoyed the kiss, the Kaye sitting next to me started to rub my leg suggestively. I turned and noticed she was staring at me intently. I put my arm around her shoulders and started to lean in for a kiss, but her finger came to my lips and stopped me. "Un uh. Not yet."

I pouted and she smiled. There was a moan and I turned back to the screen and saw Amanda was licking Kaye's neck, which was one of her big turn-on points, and had a hand up under her sweater, presumably playing with her breast. Then Amanda pulled back and took off Kaye's top. The kissing and fondling continued, and I felt a tingle between my legs. Kaye moved her hand to the inside of my leg and I let out an audible sigh.

On the screen, Kaye's upper body was sprawled out on the couch and Amanda was sucking on a nipple while her hand toyed with the other one. Kaye's eyes were closed and her mouth was open, her jaw moving up and down slightly with each mini wave of excitement. Amanda moved her mouth to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment, then started to lick her way down Kaye's stomach. She stopped at Kaye's belly button and gave it a little rim job, and then Kaye pushed Amanda away and sat up. She unbuttoned Amanda's shirt, and just as she got to the last button she leaned in and they started kissing again. Kaye slid the shirt off of Amanda's shoulders, made quick work of her bra and exposed a pair of breasts I hadn't seen in a while. They were large, probably bigger than Kaye's and mine put together. Kaye worked her way down and spent some time licking and sucking them, her tongue snaking over and around the large nipples.

I felt very hot and downed my drink. Kaye jumped up and said, "I'll get you another one." She grabbed the glass and ran into the kitchen. There was a moan from the television, where Kaye continued to work on Amanda's nipples. Her eyes fixed on the screen, Amanda said, "She has an amazing tongue." Then she looked at me and winked.

Kaye came back in and handed me my drink. I took a taste and nearly gagged because she had made it very strong. Then I realized a little numbness was exactly what I needed and took a big gulp. My girlfriend sat back down and resumed her caressing of our legs. I looked up at the screen, which had turned blue.

"That's all you guys did?" I asked.

Kaye turned and with a sultry look on her face said, "Hardly."

I looked back at the screen and two seconds later an image of our bedroom popped up. The shot was of the side of our bed, and Kaye was sitting on the edge, naked. I realized the camera was sitting on the low dresser across from that side of the bed. Amanda walked into the frame, also naked, and as she approached, Kaye started to lie back onto the mattress. Amanda leaned down and they started kissing, and when they broke apart Kaye crawled back further onto the mattress, where Amanda worked again on Kaye's breasts. After a while she started licking her way down Kaye's belly, and when she reached her muff Amanda gave a few licks around the strip of hair. Kaye spread her legs and Amanda brought her index finger up to the folds, playing with and caressing them. Kaye pursed her lips and let out an audible sigh. Then Amanda positioned to slide her finger in Kaye's hole.

"Wait," Kaye said. She brought her legs up, grabbed behind her knees and then brought them back until her feet were behind her head, essentially folding herself in half. Kaye was on the gymnastics team in high school and college, and she had once dreamed of joining the Cirque Du Soleil.

On screen Amanda said, "Wow."

Amanda on the couch said, "Yeah, still wow."

We both laughed. I loved what Kaye could do with herself. I could lick her from asshole to clit in one swipe. And that was exactly what Amanda did on screen. Kaye gave a loud, "Oh!" on the first lick and then began to breathe quickly and audibly as Amanda repeated that same lick back and forth several times. Then her tongue started licking the folds of Kaye's pussy, while her index finger started to play around Kaye's slit, teasing, testing, and occasionally going in for a shallow dip just to antagonize. I remembered her doing that to me a million times in the two years we dated. 

Amanda's finger slid into Kaye, and she slowly pumped in and out. Suddenly there was a moan that didn't come from the screen, and I looked next to me. Amanda had put her hand on Kaye's bare leg and was caressing it. Kaye's eyes were closed and suddenly I was very jealous. Why hadn't I thought of that? But then I remembered my rule -- never get jealous in a threesome because it's not all about you. That's been an easy rule to follow, at least until now, when the woman I hated more than anyone else is turning on the woman I love the most.

I leaned in and started kissing Kaye's neck, which made her let out a breath, and when I started licking she moaned loudly. Amanda brought her hand to Kaye's bush and let her fingers dance lightly over the patch of hair. I kissed and licked my way down her shoulder and finally to her breast, running my tongue around the small globe and licking and sucking her nipple.

"Oh God," Kaye sighed, "you're both turning me on so much." She gasped and said, "Somebody kiss me." Amanda was closer, and she engaged Kaye's mouth with the same passionate kiss they had shared on the screen. Kaye cupped my chin with her hand, pulled my head up and brought me into the kiss. Our tongues danced in a three-way until I finally ended up kissing just Kaye. Our lips and tongues joined with the mixture of romance and lust I'd come to expect from her, the moistness of her tongue and the softness of her skin mixed with the ferocity of her passion and instantly turned me on. Kaye could bring me to an aroused state within seconds of a kiss, because I could tell which ones were the lovey-dovey kisses and which were the I'm-about-to-tear-off-your-clothes ones.

We broke off and suddenly Amanda's face was there. I didn't even hesitate. Caught up in the moment I tossed my worry and fear about her aside and we kissed like lovers again. Her lips and tongue dominated the kiss just as she had once dominated my life, thoughts, and wet dreams. I felt her hands start to caress me, and even through my clothes she managed to touch me in ways that made my heart flutter.

When we parted, Kaye started assisting Amanda in taking off her top. A loud cry brought my attention back to the TV, where Amanda had narrowed her tongue's attention to Kaye's clit while her fingers worked rapidly in and out of Kaye's pussy. I'd been in many threesomes and seen many of my girlfriends having sex with another girl, but something about watching Kaye being pleasured by another turned me on in a way I'd never felt before. I had always worried that loving someone would mean jealousy in this kind of situation, but somehow it was just the opposite.

Next to me, Kaye started fondling Amanda's breasts while sharing a few kisses. On screen, Kaye shook and cried out and then went slack and started whimpering, which was what she commonly did after a good orgasm. Amanda got up from the bed, walked over to the camera and stuck her face into the lens.

"Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did, Mags."

She kissed the screen and then it went back to blue. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Kaye and Amanda were looking at me and smiling.

"End of movie," Kaye said. "Start of orgy."

We made our way into the bedroom. There sat the king size bed Kaye had insisted on having. It's not that she needed space for when we slept, usually we fell asleep with one of us holding the other. No, Kaye wanted it so that when we have sex there's plenty of room to have fun. On the bed sat the real Pookie, or Mr. Pookie as I called him. He was a small stuffed bear I've had since I was six, with his frayed fur and a few obvious patch jobs showing his years. 

"I can't believe you still have him," Amanda said.

"Of course." I carefully moved him from the bed to a chair across the room. Facing him away from the action, of course. 

The three of us got onto the bed and the fun began. We got Amanda undressed the rest of the way and Kaye and I each took a breast. As I sucked on a nipple I looked over and saw the love of my life doing the same thing to the same girl, and I got that feeling again. It was like a wave of ecstasy that mixed the highs of love and lust. 

At some point the two of them undressed me and after that we got lost in each other. I ate out Amanda while she ate out Kaye. Amanda fingered my ass while Kaye's tongue toyed with my clit. I sucked on Kaye's toes while Amanda gave her rosebud a rim job. We played in so many combinations that after a while I couldn't remember whom I'd done what to. Finally we were lying there in bed, unable to move after so many orgasms. The heavy breathing had ended and we started cuddling up against each other, the feeling of bare skin comforting after such an intense high.

"Wow," Amanda said weakly. "We had to have set a record for something tonight."

I smiled. "Maybe it was The Longest Threesome Ever. How long have we been at it?"

"I don't know." Kaye said. "Didn't look at the clock when we started. How many orgasms you have?"

"Lost count," Amanda said.

"Lost the ability to count," I added.

"Well," Kaye said, "I'll just buy a copy of the Guinness Book Of World Records and write something in the bottom of a page for us."

We giggled. I put up my hand like I was writing. "Maggie, Kaye and Amanda. They did something, and they did it plenty."

We broke out into laughter. Then suddenly Kaye stopped and bolted upright. "That reminds me! I have to go call Lucy! I always told her I'd let her know after my first threesome."

Kaye jumped out of bed, grabbed her cell phone and dashed out to the living room. Once again Amanda and I were alone together. I felt the tension grow as Kaye left the room, but Amanda turned on her side and gave me a warm smile.

"Seems like old times," she said. 

I couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah."

"You haven't lost your edge in bed."

"You neither."

Amanda leaned forward and brought her lips to mine, engaging me with the kind of soft, tender kiss she knew I loved. Once again I let my anger and fear of her subside. She took me in her arms and the kiss intensified, her tongue deftly moving into my mouth as our breasts pressed up against each other, our bodies turning so she was on top, her leg moving between mine and pressing down. I moaned and she broke the kiss, pulling back so she could look down at me, her intense eyes burrowing into mine and making me feel weak.

"Come away with me."

She had spoken in a breathless whisper, and in my aroused state I barely managed to say, "What?" 

"What do you think I came back for? I've got everything I need where I am, except you. I want you to come with me." Her fingers came to my lips and lightly started to trace them. I felt like I was sitting on a cloud and falling at the same time. Four years ago Amanda was everything I wanted. A sexy, powerful, confident woman who pursued her desires with vigor. I wanted her as much as I wanted to be her. All those things came rushing back to me in that moment.

"But Kaye..."

Amanda's fingers moved to trace the side of my face, while hers moved closer to mine.

"Isn't worthy of you on her best day."

And suddenly the spell was broken. I pushed Amanda away and gave her the best angry look I could muster at the moment. 

Kaye walked back in with a towel over her hand. "Want to see a magic trick?"

As Amanda and I turned towards her we erased the harsh looks on our faces.

Kaye waved her hand over the towel and then pulled it up with a "Ta da!" In her hand sat a packed bowl and a lighter.

Amanda and I both smiled at her, the picture of civility.

Fifteen minutes later the three of us were good and high. It's always a great feeling getting high after sex, like when Kaye and I went and had a fun day at an amusement park and then enjoyed really good food at a restaurant later.

"This is the greatest," Kaye said, and then fell back onto the bed and stretched out her naked body. "I love to Shake 'n Bake."

"Shake n' Bake? Amanda asked.

"Having sex and then getting stoned," I said.

Amanda smiled. Then she turned to me and out of the blue said, "Have you ever gotten back in contact with your family?"

I froze. Amanda's first attack, and definitely not what I'd have guessed. 

A confused look crossed Kaye's face. "What are you talking about?" She sat up and looked at Amanda. "Maggie never had contact with her family. Figured since she was left an orphan that they didn't want to ever know her."

"Orphan? Maggie was never an orphan. She...oh shit." Amanda looked at me with fake surprise. Or maybe not so fake. She went fishing and happened to hit pay dirt on the first shot. "I'm sorry baby, I just assumed you'd have told her."

Kaye looked confused. "What? Told me what?"

I swallowed hard, and tried to control my fear. "I wasn't an orphan that grew up in a foster home, like I told you. Actually it was the opposite, I grew up with a family, parents and a brother, but then they threw me out of the house."

I could almost feel the temperature in the room drop. Or maybe it was my skin growing cold. Kaye stared at me. "Wait, so, you lied to me?"

"I just...I'm sorry."

I could see the surprise in her face, touched with a hint of anger, and the effort she was making to keep it under control. Finally she said, "I can't..." then got up and walked out. 

I shot Amanda a nasty look as she smiled and blew me a kiss. I got up and went to the living room. Kaye was sitting on the couch, her legs crossed underneath her, staring at the black screen of the television. I thought about asking her if I could sit, but the look on her face said I shouldn't bother. I sat on the love seat.

In a low, throaty voice, she said, "You know how I feel about lying." 

That scared me. Kaye had some bad experiences with an ex-girlfriend named Trish who turned out to be drug addict. I didn't want Kaye associating me with someone who put her through the ringer emotionally as well as financially.

"Yes, I know" I said. "I was going to tell you the truth, but I just hadn't worked up the courage yet."

Her intense gaze came to me. "So what, you're scared of me?"

I shook my head. "Once I graduated college and got on my feet, I didn't want to be anyone's sympathy case. I'd spent too many years asking people for help, telling my story so they'd feel sorry for me, and I never wanted that to happen again. I didn't want people to treat me different, including girlfriends. Like I said, I was working up the courage to tell you, but I was scared because you'd had that experience with Trish and I was afraid you wouldn't understand why I didn't want to tell you the truth from the start."

Kaye sat there quietly, hopefully considering what I'd just told her. I sat there scared out of my wits, trying hard not to shed a tear and determined not to let Amanda screw up my relationship. 

Finally Kaye said, "So the pictures you showed me of the foster family?"

"The Yangs. They kind of did foster me, for a year and a half. It's a long, complicated story."

She looked at me. The anger in her face was gone, replaced by sadness. "Well why don't you tell it to me."

I nodded. "Okay. I told you I'm from Utah. My parents, like ninety percent of the rest of the state, are Mormon, and when I was fifteen they threw me out."

"Because they found out you were a lesbian."

I nodded. "Big no-no in the Mormon faith. I knew they were going to take it hard, but I didn't expect to come home from school one day and find all my stuff sitting on the sidewalk." Kaye's face softened. She reached over and put her hand on mine. I smiled at her. "I sat on the curb and cried for a while, but then I made a promise to myself. I swore that I would succeed, become whatever I would have if they had never thrown me out. It was rough at first. I started out sleeping in parks, rummaging in dumpsters for food."

Kaye made a face.

"Yeah, but I learned quickly to choose where I did it. Restaurants toss out stuff and it's usually in pretty good shape. But the important thing was that I stayed in school, worked my ass off to get good grades."

A small smile crossed Kaye's face. "Scholarships."

I nodded. "It was the only way I was going to afford college. But going back to school wasn't easy either. You of all people know how kids can be. Everyone called me 'Faggy Maggie', and people wouldn't even talk to me because the next day there'd be a rumor that maybe they were gay too. The few of my friends tried to stand by me were given so much shit by everyone, their parents included, that eventually they gave up too."

Kaye winced. "My God."

Thinking about those days had me on the verge of tears. I held them back, looked up at Kaye and brought up a good memory. "But I stuck with it. I was even the class Valedictorian. At graduation, when I went up to the podium to give my speech, all I said was, "Fuck you all." Then I walked away."

Kaye smiled. "Now I know where you get all your charm from."

I smiled back and squeezed her hand. "Yeah. That and Mr. Yang. Guy had the sharpest tongue I've ever heard. His family adopted me for a while after he found me dumpster diving behind his restaurant. Gave me a job, let me sleep in a room in their attic..."

"Taught you how to make great dumplings."

"Oh yeah." 

We sat silently for a few moments, looking at each other. Finally I said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

She took a deep breath and said, "No, I understand. It's just...it was hard finding out this way."

That brought my mind back to Amanda. "Trust me, it's not how I planned it either."

We went back into the bedroom. Amanda looked at us, guilt written all over her face. "Are you guys okay? I'm sorry, really sorry."

"That's okay," Kaye said. "I think we just all need some sleep."

5.

The clock read four a.m., and light snoring had been coming from Amanda for almost an hour. I decided that was good enough and carefully dislodged myself from under her leg, slipped out from under the covers and managed to tip-toe to the door without hitting any of the really creaky floorboards. I shut the bedroom door behind me and crept to the bathroom, where I turned on the light and then shut the door without going in. Slowly I moved past the bedroom door to the living room, where Amanda had left her bag. It was a large leather duffel that was cracked and weathered with age. I opened it and started sifting through the contents.

There were very few clothes. Either she wasn't staying long or being a fugitive had taught her to travel light. I was hoping for the former.




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 02



AUTHOR NOTE: If you like this hilariously grim little tale, read some of my other equally uninspired fiction:

After the Party
Daphne's New Life
How I Spent My Summer Vacation by Carol Hitchcock
A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad
Screwing My Ex

They came out in that order, and according to one reader I got better as I went along, so do yourself a favor and read them in order to avoid getting disappointed by my early lack of skills. Please send feedback through the link below.

DISCLAIMER: Pay attention! This story is fiction and not meant to do anything more than entertain, don't read this stuff with any intention other than having a good time, don't take life too seriously and don't swim after you've just eaten. Isn't it stupid that I have to write these warnings in case someone goes out and does something bad because of what they read in my story? What's happened in our society to cause this? I know, I know, lawsuit-happy people and the lawyers who run commercials that inspire them. Now you have to put warning labels on everything. And I understand that some things need warning labels. Hydrochloric acid – big warning label on that one. With letters four feet tall. But I don't need a cup of coffee with a warning label that says it's hot. I know it's hot. I wanted it hot! Well, not that hot. I take it light, actually.

II. It's All Downhill From Here

6.

Amanda was playing on the Internet. She had told Kaye and Maggie she needed to get some work done on her laptop, and that's why she couldn't go food shopping with them. What she really needed to do was keep out of the public eye. Sure, her face had changed and she had good fake documents, but her fingerprints hadn't changed and if they got arrested for any reason she was screwed. This was the first time she'd been on American soil in four years, ever since she boarded the boat of that Gold woman. 

Four years. Four years on the run. Four years of swindling people. Of feasting at a fancy restaurant in the company of a mark one night and eating a piece of bread all alone in some dingy apartment the next. Four years of looking over her shoulder, of getting nervous every time she saw a cop, of fighting the urge to run down the fire escape every time there was a knock at the door. Four years of having sex with people, some beautiful and some disgusting, but always because she needed something from them. That was the worst of it all – four years of having no power. In all that time, fear and helplessness and desperation were all she'd known. Sure, there were times she'd had it good. Eight months living in a villa with some rich count, but at that point she was even less than the hired help. She was just some sex puppet. The count had all the power, and he never let Amanda forget it.

All these thoughts brought tears to Amanda's eyes. If she had known what these past four years would be like back when she had used the knife on Dr. Sara Gold, she would have used it on herself instead. But not much longer now and she would have power. As soon as Maggie and Kaye left she checked to see if it was still there, and it was. Her power. After four years it was still there. Amanda could just take it and leave like she had planned. Yet something kept her there. 

Not something. Maggie. 

An intelligent, resourceful, spitfire of a girl, one who'd had things thrown at her in life which would have broken most people. Maggie had gotten past all that and conquered it. And at one point Amanda had her. Maggie was her sex puppet, and a very special one. It's easy to have some bimbo or idiot on a leash, keeping them around as a toy. Types like that deluded themselves into thinking sex gave them power, right up to the moment they were replaced for someone younger and hotter. 

But Maggie was different. Not so easily fooled, and never self deluded. Maggie could have real power if she wanted; she had the focus, knew how to work for things and obviously had the ability to do whatever it took to get there. She just had no ambition. Maggie was content with her worker bee job and living in an apartment with an oversexed schoolteacher. Playing house when she could be playing hardball. To have someone with Maggie's potential as a toy, that represented true power. And that was something Amanda wanted. There was only one obstacle...all she had to do was take Kaye out of the way and she was sure Maggie would break. Just take Kaye out of the way...

No. That was the Stupid Move, like her father taught her. She'd spend a few more hours here, enjoy fucking around with Maggie and her bitch some more, and then she would leave. That was the smart move. Now if Maggie could just avoid doing anything stupid...

7.

"Kaye, listen, I know you're angry..."

We were sitting in the car, parked outside the supermarket. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Half an hour earlier we were inside said supermarket, where I was pushing a cart without watching where I was going, my mind trying to figure out how to tell Kaye just enough truth to get her on my bandwagon of throwing Amanda out on her ass. At the same time, I needed to keep her away from some other truth that would make her throw my ass out just as quickly. I didn't believe for one second that Amanda was planning on leaving later that day like she'd told us, and I feared that whatever reason she was here somehow put Kaye and I in danger.

Kaye was two feet ahead of me, tossing whatever caught her eye in the cart; blissfully ignorant of the huge weight my mind was trying to softly drop on her. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice Kaye had stopped and I bumped into her.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," I said. "Next time put on your brake lights."

"Like this?" She pulled up her short skirt and flashed me her beautiful ass, complete with butterfly tattoo and the string from her dental floss undies almost invisible between her cheeks. I had wondered why she put on a skirt this morning. She usually went food shopping in a T-shirt and jeans.

Kaye asked, "Does Amanda like sweet cereal or healthy wheat shit?"

"I don't know. It's been four years."

She turned and stared at me like I just tried to change a color in the spectrum.

"Healthy wheat shit."

She rolled her eyes and tossed a box of healthy wheat shit in the cart. I shook my head and mumbled, "No wonder you were tubby as a kid."

As we turned the corner into the next aisle Kaye let me pass and then came up behind me. Her hand slid under the back of my shirt and snaked around my side, simultaneously pressing her body up against mine and whispering into my ear. "How hot was last night?"

"Pretty fucking hot." 

Kaye's hand moved up to my breast. I wasn't wearing a bra and I shuddered as her fingers brushed lightly against the bottom of my bare globe. "Did you get turned on watching me with Amanda?" 

"Yes," I had to admit as she started toying with my nipple. My eyes darted to the end of the empty aisle, where people faced away from us at the checkout line.

Kaye said, "Because watching you with her drove me crazy. And I mean the really good kind of crazy."

She pinched my nipple and stuck her tongue in my ear. I gasped as I moved my hand under her skirt, pressing against the inside of her left leg and slowly moving my way up. When she moaned in my ear it sounded like a bullhorn. My fingers touched the material of her panties and –

"Ahem."

We both half spun and saw an old woman standing there with her cart. She had an annoyed look on her face.

I said, "Sorry." We turned and made a beeline for the end of the aisle.

We were in the frozen food section when I worked up enough courage to ask, "So are you pissed at me?"

"Why would I be pissed at you?"

"You know, not telling you about my past."

Kaye shrugged. Without looking at me she said, "I'm not thrilled about it," she paused, "but I understand."

Despite her words I could tell it was really bothering her, and that meant she was lying to me. Even if it was a little one, even if it was to protect my feelings or just to avoid getting into an argument, this was the first time I knew Kaye wasn't being straight with me. It hurt, and then it hurt even more because I thought about how she must have felt last night, and how she was probably going to feel when I dropped the next bomb on her.

We'd just finished loading the groceries in the car when I realized it was now or never. I kept trying to think of the exact words to use, how to say it so it wouldn't sound as bad as it was. 

When we got in I was on the driver's side, Kaye was in the passenger seat. I put the keys in the ignition, then stopped and pulled my hand away. Turned and looked at her. She looked at me. I opened my mouth to speak. 

Before I got out the first sound she was kissing me.

I wasn't going to argue. Luckily we had parked on the side of the supermarket, in a lot that wasn't used as much. It's always awkward having sex in a car, and ours was meant for the rule rather than the exception. There was no way anyone's mouth was going to anyone else's puss. But Kaye opened the button and zipper of my cargo pants and slid her hand inside, rubbing her fingers over my shaved mound. With her other hand she pulled up my Goldfinger T-shirt and exposed my breasts. I had a few other tattoos and piercings Robert Hanson didn't know about but would probably still hate, like the tattoo of a ring of thorns around my bellybutton, or the silver rings in both my nipples. Kaye starting licking around the globe of my right breast, slowly working her way towards the center where her tongue played with my nipple ring. She sucked in my nipple, ring and all, and the feeling was beautifully intense. 

"Oh Pookie," I called out. "Oh baby."

I, meanwhile, slid my hand up and down her bare legs to start getting her worked up. Kaye finished playing with my breast and started kissing me again. Down below, her fingers slid into my lips and found them soaking wet. Her fingers gave me such pleasure, sliding all over the sensitive skin, each movement causing a jolt of pleasure through my body. She found my clit ring and tugged on it, causing me to break the kiss and yell out a sharp cry.

"I want you in me," she breathed. I brought my hand between her legs and pulled her pelvic dental floss out of the way. She spread her legs and I pressed the palm of my hand against her cunt, and she responded by pressing back against my hand. My fingers slid into her folds, and then came to her clit, where the tips of my digits started rubbing fiercely.

Kaye brought her fingers to my slit and worked them inside of me. "Let's come together," I said, and slowly slid my fingers inside of her. We began to pump each other while our thumbs worked our clits.

"Oh!" Kaye exclaimed when I hit her clit just right. "Right there!"

I continued to work that spot as I stared into her eyes. Kaye stared back, her mouth hanging open as each breath became labored. We handled each other the same way I handle my violin, with the knowing touch of someone who has practiced for years. Kaye and I spent lots of time practicing. Our breathing was getting loud, pierced by grunts and groans that marked when we touched a spot just right, hitting a sweet note that caused both of us pleasure.

"Harder," she cried. I pushed a little more with each thrust, watching as her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth hung open, eliciting the cries of pleasure. My fingers moved in and out of her smooth walls, lubricated by the secretions I'd caused. Suddenly I felt the wave building and my eyes closed tight, I gritted my teeth and heard my breath whistle between them.

"Faster!" I called. Kaye complied and her fingers picked up the pace that my body called for. I felt the electricity flowing within me, that pulse of natural excitement nothing else compares to.

Kaye yelled, "Harder!" At this point I lost all concern about hurting her and pounded away.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!" was all Kaye could say after that.

She went first, shaking so hard she accidentally popped me in the chin with her shoulder. 

"Sorry!" she said. I told her that's okay and not to stop. It wasn't much longer before I felt the crest of the wave break and wash down pleasure all over me. We sat there breathing heavily, our faces up against one another as much for support as for cuddling. Then we kissed.

"That was great," I said.

"Yeah, intense."

We put ourselves back together and then shared a cigarette.

"I was thinking," Kaye said.

"Is that what I smelled?"

"Shut up. I was thinking we should invite Amanda to the party tonight. Maybe that way she'd stay afterwards and we could have some more fun." Kaye gave a wide smile, the I-really-want-this-so-don't-turn-me-down smile.

"Um, you think we should? She's probably got to get going. Back to work and all."

"Really? She told me she's on vacation. Kind of just going around seeing people she hasn't seen in a while. No real plans, just dropping in, that way it's not 'We'll try to get together next month.' She can probably stay as long as she wants. And that's why I was thinking...if we get her to stay another night, maybe we could get another girl involved and make it a foursome! Wouldn't that be great?"

Suddenly I realized there was no way of saying what I needed to without making Kaye angry with me. I just had to say it and get it over with. And hope that I didn't just experience the last time I'd ever make love to her.

Kaye was still engrossed in thoughts of an orgy. "How many people do you think we can fit in our shower?"

"Amanda's a wanted woman."

Kaye smiled. "Yeah, and after last night I can see why."

"No, Kaye. She's a wanted woman." 

Kaye is no idiot. I just caught her off guard. Her smile slowly dropped as her mind took in my words. Then in a slow, measured tone, she said, "You mean by the police, don't you?"

I nodded. "And the FBI."

Her mouth hung open and her eyes slowly drifted away from me, off somewhere to my right. I had a natural urge to keep talking, to break the silence, to prompt her to say something so I had a gauge as to how much trouble I was in. But my instincts told me to keep my mouth shut. The less I said, the less chance of saying more than I wanted to.

Finally her eyes came back to me, and when they did it felt like razors were going right through me. "When exactly were you going to tell me about this?"

"I'm telling you now."

She nodded. "And not last night, as soon as you saw who it was."

"I was caught off guard. She was the last person I expected to see. Hell, I thought she'd never set foot in this country again. Word was she'd gone to Mexico."

Kaye looked down and nodded silently. Then she was quiet. Panic started sweeping through me more than if she had been screaming.

Finally Kaye asked, "What did she do, exactly?"

"It's kind of complicated."

Kaye turned to me. "Complicated like a fugitive criminal hanging out in our apartment?"

"I didn't mean I wasn't going to explain it, I just wanted to warn you."

"Consider me warned. Now explain it."

I took a breath. This was the part where I had to be careful. "Just let me start from the beginning. When I met Amanda I was in my third year of school. She was working as a trader at some huge firm on Wall Street, and after I graduated she asked me to move in with her. After what happened with my folks I wasn't very into trusting people. But I had feelings for her. Finally I figured I needed to take the chance, nothing risked nothing lost and all that, so I said yes."

"And it was good for the most part. Sometimes she'd come home and want us to go out to the clubs when I had all this homework, but living in one place meant getting to spend more time together since one of us didn't have to hoof it across town. Then a few months later she started acting...strange. Sometimes she was excited like a kid on Christmas morning, smiling and getting giddy over the smallest things. We'd go out and she'd buy drinks for everyone we were hanging out with, like she had something to celebrate. Other times she seemed nervous or scared, paranoid too. Someone would knock on the door of the apartment and she'd make me answer it while she stayed in the kitchen. Later it occurred to me that the kitchen window led to the fire escape."

I looked at Kaye. Her eyes were staring at me intently. "Amanda was that way for about two weeks. Then one day I came home and the door was open, and there were a couple of police officers and a bunch of guys in suits going through everything in the apartment. They were from the SEC. That's the Securities and Exchange Commis-"

Kaye held up her hand to stop me. "I know who they are, thank you."

I swallowed. "They asked me to go with them to the police station. I spent ten hours in an interrogation room answering questions. One question they kept coming back to was if I knew where Amanda was. I told them she left for work that morning and I hadn't seen her since, but I think it took a while before they believed me. Then they explained that there was an arrest warrant for her. Apparently..." I shrugged. "I don't know exactly how it worked. You know me and finance."

"Yeah, you think the record keeping part of a checkbook is a place to doodle. So tell me already, what did she do?"

"Amanda and two others she worked with, this guy and this girl, stole money from their clients."

Kaye snorted. "That's real original."

I shook my head. "That's not all of it. They stole the money in order to finance an insider trading deal. The girl's dad worked for some pharmaceutical company and he knew about this upcoming merger that meant big money for anyone holding stock in the company. Amanda and the others invested two hundred thousand and walked away with two million."

Kaye sat back. "Holy shit, I remember that one. It was on the news. Didn't the other two get caught? Then the guy committed suicide, right?"

I nodded. "Just before the trial. And the girl got sentenced to something crazy like fifteen years. I remember thinking that I'd heard of murderers getting less time."

"Makes for an important lesson. Don't fuck with the rich and their money."

I grunted. "Anyway, it took some time to convince the cops I didn't know anything about it. They let me go, but for the next few months I could swear they were following me. And every couple of weeks they would stop by, checking up, asking if I'd heard from Amanda. Even after I moved to Jersey." I shook my head. "In fact, the last time they stopped by was only two months before we started dating."

She didn't respond to that, so I didn't say anything more. Just gave her time to digest. Which gave me time to realize that tomorrow's marriage proposal would have to be put off for a while, at least until I got her to trust me again. Maybe a couple of weeks, or was that too hopeful? Maybe I should just tell her what I was planning.

"Kaye, listen, I know you're angry..."

Kaye shook her head. "Maggie, I can't have this get public. I'm a fucking schoolteacher. Never mind the lesbian thing, if I get connected with a wanted felon..."

"I know."

"We have to tell her to leave."

I sighed. "I know. But I have to warn you, she's dangerous. Last night I slipped out of bed to go through her bag, try and see what she's up to, and she caught me."

Kaye's face went from anger to concern.

"Nothing happened, but...she's changed Kaye. We need to be careful when we go back."

"Should we get a weapon?" Kaye asked. I stared at her. She rolled her eyes. "Just to threaten with. You know how I feel about violence."

I reached into my jacket and took out a folding knife. It was a one-handed open, so when my finger touched the latch it sprang to full length. Kaye jumped. She stared at the three inches of the gleaming blade. "Where the fuck did you get that?"




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 02



I looked at her. "A little leftover from my days on the road."

"Jesus Christ," she said. "I'm dating fucking Xena."

8.

When we got back to the apartment and Amanda was on the couch, reading one of the Roman history books. She got up and helped us put away the groceries. I made small talk with her while Kaye gave her total concentration to what she was doing. She didn't even look at Amanda once. Amanda's face gave no indication of whether or not she noticed the elephant in the room, or if it even bothered her. 

I spent the entire time feeling every muscle in my body tighten, and each breath I took felt labored and strained. The knife sat in the pocket of my cargo pants, where I could feel the weight of it when I turned a certain way. It gave me comfort and made me nervous at the same time. And there was more than just the physical danger, there was the very real possibility that Amanda would follow through on her threat from last night by telling Kaye things I didn't want her to know, things that would put my marriage proposal off indefinitely. 

When we were done the three of us walked back into the living room and Amanda said to Kaye, "She told you, didn't she?"

Kaye finally looked at Amanda. "Yes, she did. So I hope you don't think it rude of me to ask you to get the hell out of my place."

Amanda nodded. "That's fine, I understand."

She went over to her bag and started packing. I was amazed she was going so easily, without putting up a big fight. The look on Kaye's face said she was amazed too. "Can we...help you with anything?"

"No thanks," Amanda said. "I'm used to clearing out fast. Life of a fugitive and all."

Within a minute she was packed and ready. Amanda stopped in front of us and said, "Sorry if I caused you any trouble," then headed to the door. I looked at Kaye and she shrugged. We turned and watched Amanda go. The second her hand touched the doorknob I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Amanda stopped, almost like she had heard the sigh, like that was what she had been waiting for. 

And that's when I knew I was fucked.

Amanda said, "Maggie said she told you everything." She turned to Kaye. "But are you sure she told you 'everything'?"

"I..." Kaye started, and then stopped. I saw something in her eyes that scared me. With all the crazy shit that ended up coming down that day, nothing shook me more than what I saw in her eyes. I saw doubt. 

Amanda took a few steps towards us. "For instance, did she tell you how we met?" She stared at Kaye. "Hmm, I guess she didn't."

Suddenly I realized my hand was in my pocket, gripping the knife. I wasn't sure exactly when I put it in there. Normally I'm not a violent person, but it seemed Amanda brought out the worst in me. A decent amount of willpower was needed to make my hand let go of it. Instead I said, "Amanda, don't. Just leave. Please."

Amanda looked carefree about the fact that she was about to destroy my life. "And not tell your girlfriend the truth? Is your relationship not based on honesty?"

I looked at Kaye, and could see there was something else along with the doubt in her eyes. There was fear.

Amanda turned to Kaye. "Let me tell you a little story. I'm sure Maggie explained that I used to work on Wall Street. It's no picnic, especially when you're at the bottom. Right out of college and I'm working eighty-hour weeks, which doesn't leave much time to go to a bar or a club and find a mate. Hell, I usually didn't have time to shop for food. So one night I'm flipping the yellow pages for this Ethiopian place someone told me about. I couldn't find it under restaurants, so I just looked for Ethiopian. And that's when I came across another ad. Escort services. I figure, fuck, why not. I order take-out food, why not order take-out sex? So I call them up, and let me tell you, it was great. Sometimes a guy, sometimes a girl, sometimes both. Blonde, redhead, black, Hispanic, Asian...I tried all thirty one flavors."

Amanda walked over and stood behind me. "And when I got bored with everyone at the first agency, I called a different one. I was in the mood for a girl that time. And lo and behold, who shows up at my door..."

My eyes were on the floor. I couldn't stand the thought of looking up at Kaye. Amanda's hand touched my shoulder and I shrugged it off. "...but this stunning nineteen year-old." Amanda started to really get into it, letting her tone convey dramatic effect. "I was captivated. Not just by her beauty, for there were more beautiful, and not just for her brains, because there are far more college students hooking than you'd think." She took in a deep breath and let it out with a loud sigh. "It was her fire. I could sense it just by the way she stood there, all nervous energy, and the way she made love...it was obvious that she was different. So I started ordering her all the time. Like a favorite dish."

I managed to get my head up enough to steal a glance at Kaye, and it was even worse than I feared. The disappointment in her look made me catch my breath. I could feel the tears roll down my cheeks. Right then I just wanted to melt into the floor.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, Amanda delivered her last blow. "She's damaged goods Kaye. How do you like her now?"

By the time Kaye turned her stare from me to Amanda, the look on her face changed from disappointment to anger of the fire-breathing variety. "That's between me and her. It doesn't change the fact that you're about to leave."

Amanda smiled. "Oh, I think otherwise. You see, I have some business here for the next few days and I could use a place to stay."

"Find a hotel."

Amanda made a face. "Well, I suppose I could, but I like the sex here better, so I think I'll stay."

Kaye took three strides to the coffee table and picked up the phone. "Then I'll have to call the police."

"Wouldn't do that if I were you, unless you're interested in losing your job."

"You've got no control over that, bitch."

Amanda shook her head. "I knew you weren't that bright. Think about the press this will get, 'Fugitive caught after four years, right back on US soil.' 'Caught in ex-girlfriend's apartment with her new lover, a teacher of young children.'

Kaye started to dial. "And then we did the right thing and called the cops. They find out I'm a dyke and fire me...I hire a lawyer and they get a wrongful termination suit. You end up in jail where you belong. Everyone walks away unhappy. That's life."


I thought Kaye had her. I thought Amanda was going to grab her things and run to the door. But my ex-girlfriend just gave a big, wide smile. "And then there's the videotape."

I could hear the emergency operator come on the line. Kaye stood there, frozen, staring at Amanda, who added, "Imagine it getting to the press. You having sex with said fugitive...you smoking pot with said fugitive. It'll be on the Internet by the end of the day. Don't just say goodbye to your job, say goodbye to your career."

Kaye stood there, with the emergency operator asking if anyone is on the line. Finally Kaye said, "Sorry, I misdialed," and hung up the phone.

9.

We were in the bedroom. Amanda had left us alone, because she wanted to give us some time "in case we wanted to go at it". I don't think she meant sex.

Kaye was just staring at the door, and had been doing so for a good ten minutes. Finally I worked up the courage to say something. "Kaye, please believe me, I wanted to tell you the truth since two weeks after we met. That's when I realized I wanted to be with you the rest of my life. I just..."

She held up her hand without looking at me. "Stop! Just stop." Kaye continued to stare at the door as she spoke. "So, you were a hooker. Okay. I get that."

Suddenly I realized Kaye was freaking out. I'd only seen it once before, when her mom was in the hospital and Kaye talked about every fact like it needed to be verified. This wasn't going to be fun.

"So," she said, her voice a little too loud for what she was saying, "you slept with lots of people." Suddenly she turned to me and there was shock in her eyes. "Men? Did you sleep with men too?"

"No Kaye," I said in a calm, even voice. "I told you I've never been with a man in my life."

"And you're not just saying that because you already told me you didn't?"

"No. I didn't lie to you when I first said it and I'm not lying now. So calm the hell down."

"Calm down! How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? You were a fucking hooker!"

"And I was in a bad situation."

"I thought you had scholarships!"

"I did," I said. "But one of them dried up, or went broke, or whatever happens when they run out of money. Either way, I was halfway through school and I couldn't pay for the next semester. What was I supposed to do?"

"Not sell your body for money, that's one. Why not leave school for a while, work until you get enough money to go back?"

"There were lots of reasons."

"Like?" She had switched from freaking out to anger. But it was a stern anger, something I'd never seen in her before. Suddenly I realized this is the side the students who give her shit must see. 

"Like I was afraid I wouldn't go back for some reason, or that I wouldn't be able to earn enough money. For Christ sake it was an Ivy League school, that's twenty thousand a year!"

"So instead you went for the easy solution."

"Easy? You think it was easy for me?"

"Yes, easy."

"You are such a hypocrite."

"What?"

I pointed my finger at her. "You are the biggest slut I know. Anywhere and everywhere you want to have sex. Bars, bathrooms, airports, your fucking parents house during Christmas dinner! And you want to have threesomes and who knows what next."

"It's not about the sex, Mags. You sold your body for money. You worked for an industry that exploits women."

I smiled. "Oh, so that's it. The Women's Studies minor you took finally kicking in?"

"Fuck you!"

"Fine, but first you listen. I wasn't some streetwalker with a pimp who beat me up for half my take. I was a freelance operator in the only business where I could make the kind of money I needed."

"Oh please!"

"No, it's the truth. And I wasn't alone. I met plenty, plenty of women and men using it to pay their way through college, to better themselves. Even if I quit school and worked three jobs it'd have taken me ten years to work up enough money. I wasn't trained in anything other than being a waitress. And not all of us grew up with rich parents from Connecticut."

That hit her. She became silent, but her face was still seething anger. I wanted to turn this all around, to get her to understand my side of things. I've feared this day for some time now, and what I told Kaye about wanting to come clean early in our relationship was true. Sure, there was the fear of being out with Kaye and running into an old co-worker, or even worse an old client, but mostly it had to do with my upbringing. I don't like lying, despite the fact that I'm obviously good at it. I wanted to counter that, to be up front with her, to be completely open and honest. 

But there was another part of me, one that had wanted to see if I could go the rest of my life without telling anyone about escorting. Because despite the fact that it paid my way through college, and that it's such a large industry because people from all walks of life hire escorts, there is also a huge stigmatism attached to hooking in our society. I've kept in contact with a few of the men and women I'd worked with, and while many of them are now married or in a committed relationship, very few of them tell their partners, and the ones who have, ended up regretting it. One girl I worked with was married to a great guy who promptly left her when she decided to be 'open and honest' with him about her past. Another one was a guy who told his partner, and while the partner didn't leave him there's been obvious tension in their relationship ever since. Another guy told his wife and she took their kids and left for six months before he convinced her to come back. Honesty is great and all, but it comes at a price.

I decided to calm down and try to talk to her again. "Listen Kaye, I'm sorry."

"Sorry. Hmm. That's interesting. Are you sorry for lying to me or sorry I found out?"

And suddenly calm was out the window. It was all too much, and it had happened too fast. Twenty-four hours ago I was as happy as I'd ever been. I had the girl, I had the job, and I had a roof over my head. Now all of it was slipping from my grasp. And then a terrible thought entered my head. What if they were right? My parents, my friends, the kids at school, Robert Hanson, everyone who ever said my life was going to go down the tubes. It was happening just like they said. At that moment something snapped in my brain, and I lost it. I started screaming at Kaye. 

"What the fuck do you expect of me, huh! Should I have told you on our first date? Our second? When's a good time to bring up the fact that I had sex for money? Or that I dated a wanted felon? Or tell you some sob story about how my parents threw me out easier than they tossed out trash? What's the common timing on that one? I'd like to know Kaye, because obviously I blew it! I blew it because I wanted you to stay! I didn't want to drive you off with all the shit I was trying to leave behind! So I guess that makes me a selfish bitch!"

The door opened and Amanda stood there looking at us. "You two really should learn to get along better." She walked over to the side of the bed. "Maybe you need some help. Both of you, strip. Now."

Amanda started taking off her clothes. Kaye and I just stood there, staring at her. She stopped and looked at us. "Do it now or I'll leave and drop the videotape in the mail. The envelope is already addressed. Principal Larry Woods. It was in your little book in the phone table."

Kaye looked at me and I could see the seething anger in her face again. I'm sure part of it was because of Amanda, but I couldn't help thinking that part of it was for me. We started taking off our clothes while Amanda climbed on the bed and lay down right in the middle. "Now, Maggie, why don't you climb up onto the dresser over there. On your knees, where you belong. Kaye, you climb on top of me here."

Kaye hesitated. Then she looked at me, turned and climbed on top of Amanda.

"I won't ask you to kiss me, that'd be a little too much, wouldn't it?" Amanda smiled at her. "Why don't you give my boobs a little loving?"

I couldn't see Kaye's face, but I had an idea what it looked like. Not happy. She tilted her head down and started with Amanda's right nipple. Amanda put her hand on Kaye's head and stroked her fingers in my girlfriend's hair. "Mmm. You do have a talented tongue." Amanda looked up at me. "Put on a show, like you used to. Remember how I like it?"

I bit my lip to keep from saying something I shouldn't. Then I started rubbing my hands all over myself, slowly. Over my chest, down to my breasts, over my nipples, down to my stomach and then over to my hips where I shook them a little, back and forth. Then I split them up and sent my left hand back up to my breast while my right one went down to my pussy.

Kaye had already switched to Amanda's other nipple. My ex-girlfriend exhaled sharply as my current girlfriend sucked hard. Amanda stared straight at me, her eyes locked on mine, as she said to Kaye, "Go down on me."

Kaye brought her head up for a moment and then moved her body down between Amanda's legs. My hand was between my legs now, with two fingers moving back and forth on my lips. My other hand was pinching my nipple.

An annoyed look crossed Amanda's face. "Come on now Maggie. At least look like you're enjoying it."

I sighed and put on a fake smile. It had been a long time since I had to work at looking like I was getting into it. Escorting only took up two years of my life, but within a few months I'd burned out a bit on sex. There were a few clients that I had such a genuine passion with that I never had to fake it, but after a while it became a job like any other. Sometimes it was more work to act like I was into it than it was to actually have sex. 

I moaned and moved like I was turned on, but my mind was elsewhere. I realized I needed to come up with a plan. A way to get rid of Amanda without having Kaye's career ruined. I needed to find that tape. Find the tape and we're right back where Kaye said, calling the police. But wouldn't that still be bad for Kaye? Amanda could make all sorts of accusations, true and false, that could haunt my girlfriend forever.

"Oh yeah!" Amanda cried. Kaye's head was moving up and down, which meant she was really getting into it. Amanda looked at me and I pulled on my clit ring and a nipple ring and acted like I was getting turned on. Well, I was, a little, but my mind was coming to the conclusion that we had to find a way to make Amanda leave, a way that wouldn't make her so mad as to send the tape.

Amanda rode out her orgasm with her eyes still locked on mine. When it was over, Kaye brought her head up and I could see her back moving up and down as she tried to catch her breath.

"That was pretty sad, Maggie," Amanda said. "Last night you were much better. Got your mind on other things I guess. Why don't you come down here and see if you can make me come too."

I climbed down and took Kaye's place between Amanda's legs, while she made Kaye lay beside her. As I started licking and sucking up all her juices Kaye turned away. Amanda put her finger on Kaye's chin and directed her face to look back at me. I worked my tongue hard and then I slipped a finger inside Amanda. She started cooing and I centered my attention on her clit. Within minutes I had her riding high again, until she came in another orgasm. Breathing softly, she pushed Kaye aside and leaned up on her elbows.

"Very good," Amanda said. "You've managed to redeem yourself. Now I think we should get cleaned up, someone needs to prepare for this party tonight."

Christ, I'd forgotten about the party. That would be just great, two-dozen people hanging out with all this shit going on.

10.

Two hours later that was exactly what we had. Two dozen people hanging out, with no idea of what was going on. They didn't even know Amanda's real name. She had instructed Kaye and I that for the purpose of the evening we were to call her Michelle.

"Last night when you called me you said her name was Amanda," Kaye's friend Lucy said when introduced to 'Michelle'.

"C'mon," Kaye said with a very convincing smile on her face. "You know how I am about names. Hell, I keep pushing my family to use nametags at weddings and funerals."

By nine the party was going strong. I played hostess while Kaye did some last minute cooking in the kitchen. After making some rounds I went to check on my girlfriend. Kaye was alone, cooking chicken wings and cutting up vegetables and drinking wine. She looked up at me. "Everyone good out there?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied. Glancing at the doorway, I added, "I'll find a way out this. I promise."

Kaye had gone back to chopping. She didn't look at me when she said, "Would you mind taking out the garbage please?"

I stared at her for a moment, then tied up the bag and carried it out of the apartment. Along the way I saw all the people having a good time. They had no idea how bad it was between Kaye and I or that a wanted felon was mingling amongst them. Amanda was on the couch, talking with some people, and when she saw me she smiled and winked. 

Just as I got out into the hallway I saw Mike coming out of his apartment. I remembered my pledge to be more friendly and realized that this might be a welcome diversion from my problems. I said, "Hey, how are you?"

Tonight he was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a nice button down shirt. His only response was to nod at me. 




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 02



I looked back at my apartment and then at him. "Ah, sorry. Another night with a lot of noise."

"It's okay. I'm going out again."

"Oh, how did last night go?" I smiled broadly and tapped him on the arm. "Pick up any chicks?" I said, followed by a chuckle. Why was I acting like an idiot?

"No," he said, his eyes towards the floor. "I'm trying a different place tonight."

I wanted to say something encouraging, but came up short. Then I glanced at my door. "Well, uh, why don't you try our place?" I pointed at the apartment. "I know we have a few single girls here tonight."

"Um, no offense, but aren't you girls gay?"

"Yeah, but we know a few straight ones. And bisexual girls too, heh, they're lots of fun." Yeah, like Amanda.

Mike hesitated, probably because I was back to acting like and idiot. "Uh, I don't know. I'm not really a party type."

"C'mon," I said. Then I grabbed his hand and dragged him and the garbage back into my apartment. I started introducing him to people as we passed them, including any girls who I knew were single. Then I left him on his own and went to take another stab at Kaye.

She was still working in the kitchen. We stood there quietly for a few moments. I was as stumped for something to say as I was with Mike. Hell, trying to talk to that guy was impossible, being without his wife made him so depressed. That's when I remembered something. I said to Kaye, "You are my light."

"Huh?"

"Mrs. Klendiski, the woman who ran the escort agency with her husband. When I was leaving she told me, "This is a dark world we live in. But remember there's always a light somewhere, the trick is to know it when you see it."

"Profound."

"Comes with experience, and she'd certainly seen enough in life."

Kaye put a tray of frozen something in the oven and then turned to me. "So what are you saying?"

"That you are my light. Kaye, when I met you everything changed. I changed. I'd spent so much time being angry at the world for handing me a shitty deal, and then you came along and showed me that good things can happen too. And suddenly all that hate I'd been carrying around for so long didn't seem as important anymore." I took a few steps towards her. "No matter what happens, I know we can get through this."

Kaye shook her head and stared at a corner of the ceiling with a look of disgust on her face. Finally her eyes came down to me, with the look of disgust still there. "I don't know what to tell you about us anymore. What I do know is that if you love me, really love me...you will find a way to keep that bitch from destroying my career."

Just then a guy I worked with named Pete walked into the kitchen. "Hey Maggie, there's a problem with the bathroom."

I said I'd deal with it and left Kaye to her food and anger. As I went down the hallway I noticed Mike leaving through the front door. I was disappointed, but at the same time I felt I had tried all I could. Like my Aunt Peggy used to say, you can't help some people because sometimes they're happy with whatever miserable situation they're in.

There were a few people standing outside the bathroom door, and one girl was pounding on it. "C'mon!" she yelled.

"You sure somebody's in there?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "I'm sure there's two somebody's in there." She was about to pound on the door again when it opened. Out came Kaye's friend Amber with a huge smile on her face. We looked in the bathroom and saw Janey, a friend of mine, pulling up her panties. As she scooted out past us, Janey looked at me and said, "Great party." 

I shook my head. Amber had come here with her girlfriend. As I walked back down the hallway, feeling like there was nothing good happening in the world tonight, the door opened and my friend Lisa walked in, followed by her boyfriend John.

"Hey!" she yelled.

I smiled. It felt good to smile. Lisa and I hugged and started talking. We hadn't seen each other in a while, and catching up with her and John was a welcome distraction.

Finally, Lisa asked a dreaded question. "So how are you guys doing?"

Just then I almost did it. I almost told Lisa everything that was going on, to get her friendly advice, her comfort and support. And being such the good guy he is, John would have done the same, as well as offering to do damage to Amanda for us. Granted, it meant I had to tell Lisa about escorting. That was something I'd never told her, something I'd managed to do right under her nose during college. Escorting was not a job I boasted to friends about. Lisa might be hurt that I kept it from her, but she would be more concerned that Kaye and I were in danger. Lisa is one of those kinds of friends. I think if I needed a moon rock she'd break into NASA and hotwire a space shuttle.

And at that moment I realized I couldn't drag her and John into this for precisely that reason. Once I had them involved they wouldn't let go of it, and I might put them in danger. Speaking of that danger, my eyes caught sight of Amanda in the living room. Amongst all the partygoers she was standing by herself, once again staring at the print she had given me. 

"We're fine," I told Lisa and John, suddenly wanting to get them away from me before I said something or started crying. "Kaye is cooking in the kitchen. I hate to ask you guys, but she could use some help."

"No problem," Lisa said as they started to walk off.

John smiled. "Yeah, we'll have this place on fire in no time."

I watched them go to the kitchen. This was my problem, and I needed to handle it myself. So I went into the living room and walked up beside Amanda. Maybe if I were friendly to her she'd ease up on the threatening. "Whatcha doing?" I asked.

Amanda took a deep breath and let it out. "Wondering. What do you think Rembrandt was thinking when he painted it?"

"This is going to make me rich and get me laid."

Amanda gave a slight chuckle. "At least that hasn't changed about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I was thinking I'd come back and find you the same person I once knew. The one with all the fire." She turned to me. "My father taught me that people are weak. So many of them don't know how to work hard, really hard, for what they want. They're afraid to sacrifice current comfort for a future goal. They get some crappy job and take what they're given. Drink, watch television, masturbate, and stay slaves to their most base desires. They are weak, and that's what makes me better than them. Because I'm not weak."

I sneered at her. "Goody for you."

"But there was a time you weren't weak either. When you had drive and ambition. Now...now you're just pathetic."

I felt the sting of her words. "Well maybe...maybe I just achieved my goals."

"And this is all you wanted?" Amanda looked around the apartment. "This, and some girl who's can't see past her own prejudices to understand that you did what you had to do?" Amanda shook her head. "Some dream. Didn't take much to make it fall apart, either."

11.

I was sitting alone in the bedroom, holding Mr. Pookie. It felt like everything I tried to do today went wrong in the worst possible way. Even worse, I still had no plan about how to save Kaye from Amanda. I put down Mr. Pookie and picked up a picture of Kaye and me at the beach. She looked good in a bikini. I looked like a pale, shaved cat.

"I hope you know she loves you."

I looked up and saw Kaye's friend Lucy standing in the doorway. She's tall and a little big boned and her Asian features made her look like the hottest Amazon you've ever seen.

I smiled. "I know."

Lucy walked in and sat down. "You guys are going through something and I'm not going to pry. But I wanted you to know that I was just talking to Kaye, and she says that as far as she's concerned you're as good as chocolate. Which is her way of saying her world revolves around you."

I closed my eyes tight and gritted my teeth. There was still a chance. She still loves me. But I couldn't figure out a way to keep my problem from ruining her life. I opened my eyes. "I thought things got easy when you found that one special person."


Lucy chuckled. "My therapist calls it The Cinderella Complex. We're all raised on Cinderella or similar tales, where the struggle in the story is finding that special someone, that perfect mate, and convincing them you exist. Once that happens they ride off into the sunset together, happily ever after, and then the story ends, the hard part is over, roll credits. Except in real life the hard part isn't over, it's just beginning. Because these two people need to learn to live together, and that means you need to learn to compromise. You can't just think about yourself anymore, you have to think about the other person as well. And sometimes that means giving up things, making sacrifices. Other times it means doing something you wouldn't normally do, or don't want to do. It's a big change, and so few people are ready for it. I think you and Kaye are really good together. Honestly she's happier than I've ever seen her. So whatever it is, please don't give up on her."

I nodded and we were quiet for a moment. Then Lucy stood. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've had to pee for the last half of this conversation."

Lucy walked away, but when she reached the door she turned. "Oh, and if you hurt her, just keep in mind how mentally unstable I am and that I own a big knife collection."

With that she walked out. But I wasn't concerned about her threat. It was what she said before that was tumbling around in my head.

"...the perfect mate...can t just think about yourself anymore...happier than I've ever seen her..."

Tumbling around. Not making much sense.

"...hurt her...making sacrifices...happily ever after..."

But then some things started coming into focus.

"...the hard part isn't over...something you wouldn't normally do...think of the other person as well..."

Suddenly, it hit me.

"...the other person...knife collection...once that happens they ride off into the sunset together..."

And with that I knew what needed to be done. I had brought the problem into our lives and I would take it out. Standing up, I went to the bedside drawer and took out my pocketknife. With the gentle push of my finger the blade sprang open. I held the knife in my hand and looked at its sharp edge, and then stared at my distorted reflection on the side. Suddenly there was only one question I had to answer.

What was I going to do with the body?

Coming in part 3 – planning a murder isn't easy.

Please send feedback through the link below.



Trust Comes Easy Ch. 03



AUTHOR NOTE: If you like this hilariously grim little tale, read some of my other equally uninspired fiction:

After the Party

Daphne's New Life

How I Spent My Summer Vacation by Carol Hitchcock

A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad

Screwing My Ex

They came out in that order, and according to one reader I got better as I went along, so do yourself a favor and read them in order to avoid getting disappointed by my early lack of skills. Please send feedback to the address in my profile.

DISCLAIMER: Pay attention! This story is fiction and not meant to do anything more than entertain, don't read this stuff with any intention other than having a good time, don't take life too seriously and don't swim after you've just eaten. Isn't it stupid that I have to write these warnings in case someone goes out and does something bad because of what they read in my story? What's happened in our society to cause this? I know, I know, lawsuit-happy people and the lawyers who run commercials that inspire them. Now you have to put warning labels on everything. And I understand that some things need warning labels. Hydrochloric acid -- big warning label on that one. With letters four feet tall. But I don't need a cup of coffee with a warning label that says it's hot. I know it's hot. I wanted it hot! Well, not that hot. I take it light, actually.

*

III. First Time, Last Time

12.

Amanda was reading. Even though she should have left the country by now, and despite the fact that every second she spent here was putting her in danger, she was sitting on the bed, reading. 

But doing it was important, what she was reading could help her get something she wanted. And with the power Amanda was about to have there was no reason why she shouldn't have Maggie all to herself. The only question was how to get that prize. Maggie had obviously changed, since she was no longer driven by the desire for a goal. It made her less vulnerable to being controlled, which reminded Amanda of one of the many lessons Daddy had taught her -- the most easily manipulated people are those who desire something, while those who are content cannot be forced to do anything. 

Yet she had forced Maggie and Kaye to do things. And when she did, that feeling of power had come back, and it was sooo good. At first there was just the taste of it, the moment she mentioned the videotape and what she could do. Then later that day when she toyed and played with Maggie and Kaye, it struck like lightning, a surge that she hadn't felt in years. The broken Amanda, the one who spent four years on the run, was gone. The person she strived to be was back.

Using Maggie and Kaye was like having two slaves, as it was with the Greeks and Romans. Amanda had heard about the modern day version, the "white slave" market as it was called, and the thought of it had always intrigued her. She figured she would find out more once she gained enough power in society, once the real doors of privilege opened for her. Owning a human being, that was true power. 

But still, it wasn't the ultimate power. Ultimate power was taking a life. Amanda started to wonder if killing Kaye was the solution to her problem. It would remove Maggie's anchor, the thing that made her content, and also give Amanda a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. After she took the life of Dr. Sara Gold, Amanda felt a rush unlike any she'd ever known, including working with millions of dollars in her old job. It was unreal, and as soon as the rush faded she wanted more. Problem was she couldn't indulge without risking the police getting back on her trail. 

Through her research, Amanda learned that the investigation in New York had probably gone cold within a year, and her case file would've been shoved in a filing cabinet somewhere to make room for the new ones coming in. The cops would have forgotten her name halfway through their next investigation. But a murder linked to Amanda Gailing, through forensic evidence or fingerprints or both would renew interest in her old case. Then they might think to re-interview Maggie, and maybe, just maybe, the cops or Maggie would look in places they hadn't before. Then they would find her power.

So Amanda forced herself not to kill, not to indulge her need for the feeling of power. She made it a test of her discipline, of her ability to choose the Smart Move over a stupid one. Like Daddy had taught her. From the time she was a little girl, Daddy always explained to Amanda about how the world worked. It was very simple -- there are people who have power and people who don't. Those who have power are business people, company owners and entrepreneurs. They are the people who matter, the ones who control their lives on their own terms. Those who have no power, the servant population as her father called them, are merely paid to perform and live their lives in service of those who have power. From waiters to concierges, truck drivers to senior management personnel, policemen to politicians, firefighters to farmers, all these people were there to serve people with power. People like her.

Which brought Amanda back to Maggie, and how to get what she wanted. While killing Kaye was appealing, taking away the woman who made Maggie happy wasn't going to endear her to the murderer. What Amanda desperately needed was a carrot to dangle. And a few minutes later Amanda found it in what she was reading, something so shocking it made her realize two things -- her Daddy was wrong about content people, and the solution she was looking for didn't actually involve killing at all. 

13.

I woke up Sunday morning with Amanda lying next to me, and the very sight of her turned my stomach in knots. Last night the idea of killing her seemed like an obvious solution to my problem, but now the moral and social consequences started to sink in. I was thinking about ending someone's life. Taking it away completely without the chance of ever turning that decision around. Even worse, the ability to live with it wasn't really something I could decide now, but a weight I'd have to deal with over time. And even though I no longer believed in religion, the nasty thought of a possible afterlife spent in an uncomfortably hot place plagued my thoughts.

But the more I thought about my situation, the more convinced I became that killing Amanda was the only answer. We couldn't throw her out, we couldn't call the cops, and asking her nicely sure wasn't going to work. Amanda said she was going to give us the tape when she left, but something deep down told me we were going to get screwed. If she ended Kaye's career it would devastate the woman I love, and that's something I know I couldn't live with. And that reminded me that this was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, the day I was going to ask Kaye to marry me. She may not have said yes, but the mere possibility, the hope, was all I needed. Now it felt like that hope was no longer hanging in the balance or teetering on the edge of possibility, it was just plain gone. All thanks to Amanda. 

The woman in question woke up. Her eyelids didn't flutter open like she was coming to; they simply opened up like a computer switching on. Then she leaned over and started kissing me, slow and soft, while her fingertips danced on one of my nipples. Here she was threatening to ruin our lives...well, she was threatening to ruin Kaye's, she might have already ruined mine...and she has the audacity to play with me sexually. This was something that hadn't changed about Amanda -- her arrogance. She would take things to their breaking point and then dare to go further, all because she didn't like living by someone else's idea of where to draw the line. That's what made her so good on Wall Street, but then again it's also what put her on the run.

Amanda moved her hand down past my belly button, sliding her fingertips over my bare mound, letting the pads of her digits glide gently on one pass while raking her nails on the next. She knows it is a sensation I enjoy, and she stared intently at my face as she did it. As much as I was getting turned on I tried not to let it show. But when a slight smile glided up the right side of her mouth, I knew she could tell what's going on inside me. At least everything below the neck.

So what if I did kill her? That still left the question of what to do with her body. I've watched enough Law & Order, CSI, and Bill Curtis hosted shows to know that most criminals these days don't get away with anything, thanks to forensic technology and interrogation room tactics that border on psychological warfare. And I certainly wasn't going to be interrogated by anyone as hot as Jill Hennessy. It made me wish we lived in an earlier era, before cops became so savvy. Back then a murderer could commit their crime with a halfway decent chance of getting away with it as long as they didn't leave any fingerprints or obvious clues. These days, you have to wear one of those suits they use in nuclear reactors to keep from leaving any trace evidence. I wonder where they sell those?

My God, listen to me. I'm complaining that it's not so easy for people to kill other people. What's happening to me? Have I become that jaded? No, what happened to me are Kaye and Amanda. One has given me the most happiness I've ever known. The other is threatening to take it all away. But does that give me the right to kill someone?

"Give into it," Amanda whispers, and then she presses her fingers between my legs and against the sensitive folds. We both feel moisture there, and she moves her fingers around until she finds my slit. Her fingers press inside, moving past the slight resistance of some dryness, and my head rolls back as I close my eyes and let out a sigh. Amanda's lips kiss down my exposed neck as her long fingers started to move in and out, reaching up inside of me in a way that Kaye's never could.

My girlfriend's head and thigh were visible just past Amanda's body. I was pretty sure she was still asleep, despite the movements Amanda and I were making. I've watched Kaye snore her way through a heavy metal concert, a fire alarm in the building, a small earthquake, and four marching bands performing a halftime show. This is one time I'm happy she's out cold.

I brought up my leg to give Amanda more access and she started pumping in and out of me hard. She bent her neck and licked all around my left nipple, teasing and taunting and wiping her tongue all over it, until she finally took the sensitive flesh between her lips and sucked on it. I wanted to cry out but I managed to keep the noise in the back of my throat. Amanda moved her other hand so her finger could start flicking my clit, and just as she did that her teeth bit down on my nipple. My jaw dropped and a slightly strangled sound emitted from my mouth. Amanda's fingers were ramming me now, and her mouth moved up as she picked a spot and started sucking on the side of my neck hard. The pain was overridden by my orgasm, and as it happened my hand grabbed a handful of hair on the back of Amanda's head and squeezed.

Soon I was past the high point and my body relaxed, enjoying the slow trip down to post-orgasmic bliss. My body slumped against Amanda's, her naked skin warm and soothing against mine. I was almost comfortable. Then I looked up and I saw Kaye, her eyes open and a tear running down her cheek. I opened my mouth to say something but she turned over and faced away from us. My stomach tightened at the thought of how all this was hurting her. 

But then another thought entered my mind -- do I tell her about what I'm planning? About maybe killing Amanda? The first immediate thought that popped into my head was no, don't you dare. She doesn't deserve this. Why would I need to anyway? Well, the answer was that maybe I need the help. I'm worried about whether or not I should do it, and how not to get caught. Kaye is very smart and very detail-oriented. She tends to think of things that I don't. Besides, this has become her problem too.

No, I can't. Even just telling her about this plan will make her an accessory to the crime in the eyes of the law, and forget about what it would do to her moral compass. Kaye is a devoted pacifist. No, if I told her about what I was planning she'd just try to talk me out of it. Then again, Kaye is a bit unpredictable. She exercises and practices yoga to keep her body fit, then goes out and drinks and smokes pot like a teenage celebrity on the rise. And this situation is so extreme that she may just say fuck pacifism, let's off the bitch. 

By that point my head was so full of contradicting thoughts I felt dizzy. I've experienced confusion like this once before, in making a decision that I now know had consequences I couldn't have imagined at the time.

14.

Both my roommates were out the night that first call came, and I've always wondered how things would have gone down if they had been home. We lived in a one-room apartment on Morton Street, near the West Side Highway, and to call the place a dump was a joke. If I spread my arms I could touch both walls, and my knees were higher than the refrigerator, which held half a pint of milk, two stalks of celery, and five packets of sugar. Our stove was a hotplate on a small phone table. Underneath my floor supported mattress were two flattened cardboard boxes that kept it from turning into a block of ice during winter. Michelle and Greta shared a similarly insulated mattress across the room. Entertainment came in the form of a window which looked out onto the street five stories below or the apartment building across the way where no one ever heard of curtains. 

What made it even worse were the paper-thin materials they had advertised as walls, ceilings and floors. I was trying to concentrate on homework while the idiot below me held band practice at top volume. Just as the phone rang I started laughing about how bad it is when someone downstairs from you is louder than the person above you. My mind was so wrapped up in it that I answered the phone, "Noise Central."

"Is this Maggie?"

The voice of a stranger, but one I recognized. The receptionist in the office I'd visited the other day. After forty minutes in the waiting room, hearing her nasal voice answer the phone a hundred times, I figured either they were the busiest escort service in the city or everyone who has ever said they'd never pay for it is full of shit.

Later, when I finally went in to meet the owners of the agency I was surprised. The Klendiski's looked like a middle-aged working class couple. He was thick and beefy with a jovial face and the body of a dockworker, and she was thin with dyed hair and conservative clothes that made her look like the saleslady at a department store. They asked me a bunch of information about myself, asked to see my driver's license, and then made casual conversation. Mrs. Klendiski asked if I would mind stripping. It was very strange being naked in front of people I didn't know, but then I realized I'd have to get over that quickly if I was going to do this. Later, I found out getting naked was less about seeing if I was attractive and more about making sure that I really was a girl. Welcome to New York City.

I figured they'd take one look at me and know that in a city full of actress and model wanna-be's they could do much better. But Mr. Klendiski said even though I wasn't the knockout beauty the ad called for, I have a pretty face and a natural look that would be attractive to some clients. They said they'd take me on, if I were interested. From the moment I saw the ad I was on the fence about it, but figured I'd gone this far and accepted.

They sent me into another room where I met Dana, a fortyish woman who said she'd been a call girl for many years. She trained me in how to act on a 'date': what to expect and what was expected, how to speak, how to carry myself, what was appropriate and inappropriate behavior on both sides, and how to talk money without incriminating myself. That last lesson included a piece of paper with the names of several bail bondsmen and the statement that if I was caught I was on my own.

"If you do get busted," she said, "keep your spirits up. Usually I try to remember I'm making more money per year than the cops that busted me."

The last part freaked me out, and later I decided that when they called with my first assignment I'd tell them I changed my mind. Chalk it up to an interesting story to tell my kids, if I ever adopted any. "I ever tell you about that time I interviewed to be an escort?" Okay, maybe I shouldn't have kids.

"Maggie?"

"Yes, sorry. This is Maggie."

"Are you available for a date at seven?"

Suddenly I realized it was this or leaving school. I'd tried to find other work, but nothing paid enough to cover my lost scholarship. And from what Dana had told me about rates, escorting alone could easily help me pay for school once I got established. One job as opposed to the three I already had.

Then I thought, No way, there has to be another option. I could find something else, it would be tough but I could make it work. Yeah, right, and when would I have time to do it? From six to ten in the morning I was a waitress at a coffee shop, from ten to five I had classes, followed by a job at a music store followed by homework. On weekends I worked as a waitress at a restaurant. So a fourth job meant I either gave up homework or sleep.

"Maggie? You there honey?"

Who am I kidding, I finally thought. This is the other option.

"Yes, I'm available."

"Drake Hotel, on Lexington between forty-fourth and forty-fifth. Room five seventeen. Got that?"

"Okay," I said, trying to sound confident. It obviously didn't work because the receptionist said, "Don't be so scared, sweetie. No one gets taken advantage of faster than a nervous call girl."

At six thirty, after a train and a three-block walk, I was sitting in the lobby of the Drake wearing the red dress that Miss Yang had bought for me when I went stag to my prom. It was the first dress I'd ever owned that stopped at the knee. My long, dark hair was in a ponytail, or at least it had been for the past two minutes. I kept taking it out and putting it back up, not sure which way looked better. Finally I went back to the bathroom and took it out, adjusted my dress, and went back out to the couch in the lobby.

I wasn't really nervous about how I looked. I was trying to keep myself calm, but it wasn't easy. Here I was about to take a huge step into an area of life I never thought I'd see, much less be a part of. It's against the law, considered by most people to be morally reprehensible, and almost everyone I've ever known sees hookers as cheap low-life's who sell their body for money. On top of that I had my whole religious upbringing rolling through my head, yelling at me in fifty different ways. The voices of my priest, my parents, my brother, and all of my friends, reading me the riot act while quoting the Bible filled my brain with so much doubt that I was on the verge of tears. At one point I almost got up and walked out. 

But I stayed seated on that couch, driven by the pure need to succeed. All I kept thinking was that if I don't do this I'll have to give up college, or at least go to a much less prestigious place part time. I'd worked too hard in high school to throw away what I'd earned, and I wasn't ready to give up yet. Not after I had come so close to achieving my goal, to succeed as I might have if everyone at home had never betrayed me.

And that's when it happened. I realized all the people I was worrying about weren't there. They didn't matter in my life anymore, and it wasn't a choice I had made, either. For all their moralizing and preaching about right and wrong, those people failed me at a time when I needed support the most. Why am I worried about them?




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 03



So that left just me, and what I thought about it. Most of my thoughts were against escorting, or hooking or prostitution or whatever you call it, because I had always heard stories about abuse and exploitation and drug addiction, usually accompanied by images of scantily clad women on the street offering themselves to anyone who drove up and getting the occasional beating from a pimp. But already this didn't seem like what I thought it was. There was an interview process, where I was asked what I would and wouldn't do, and the cut the agency takes sounded reasonable. No one had hit me or abused me, at least not yet, and no one offered me drugs. I certainly wasn't walking the street in garters and high heels. 

In fact, the hotel I was sitting in was one of the most expensive in the city. The lobby alone was bigger than an entire floor of my building, and the chandeliers and oak paneling and marble floors probably cost more than four years of tuition. There were three doormen and two concierges and everyone who walked into the place wore expensive clothes. I highly doubted a scantily clad streetwalker would get past the front desk here. So obviously there were different levels of hooking, and escort agencies provided for places like this.

Granted I hadn't even been on my first date yet, but at that moment I realized what I had thought about prostitution was based on what other people told me, and those people had heard it from others, and so on. Which meant I had a pre-judged view of things, and for someone like me, who was looking to be a scientist, experimentation was necessary to find results. Especially when you find flaws in someone else's.

That line of thinking put me in front of the door to Room 517. I had no more doubts about going through with this, or at least trying it and seeing what happens. But I was still nervous. In my head I went over what Dana taught me -- start out by making casual conversation with the client, that way you can find out what they're looking for with the date while making them feel comfortable. Hell, I was going to need casual conversation to make me feel comfortable. After that I needed to bring up money, and once that was out of the way I should go to the bathroom and strip down to my 'sexiest pair of underwear'. Being school poor and raised religious, my sexiest pair of underwear were the basic white bra and panties. I'd used a pair of scissors to knock the panties down to a crude thong and cut a bunch of small slits around the cups of the bra to make it look provocative. Taking a deep breath, I quickly went over it all again in my head. Then I knocked on the door.

Almost immediately it swung open and I was confronted with a woman in a short bathrobe. She had a nice pair of legs that led to an even nicer pair of feet. Her red hair was cut to the curve of her jaw line. I've never been great with guessing ages, but I put her somewhere in her mid thirties. She had a cell phone pressed against her ear, to which she said, "Okay, yeah, I understand..."

She moved her head to indicate I should come in and then walked away. I entered and shut the door behind me. Despite the fancy décor it was still a basic hotel room, with a bed, a table with two chairs, and a desk that was covered with papers and folders and a laptop open to a spreadsheet filled with numbers. The woman walked to the other side of the bed, picked up her watch and looked at it. Then she turned to me, put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, "Go ahead and get naked," before going back to her conversation.

So much for a by-the-book date. I moved to the other side of the bed and disrobed. As I slipped off my bra and panties I was glad she was facing the other direction. She might have laughed because I looked like I'd fed my underwear through a paper shredder. By her conversation it was obvious that she was a take-charge type, and by the way she spoke to the other party she had very little patience for incompetence. So when I was finished stripping I simply stood there looking at her across the bed, awaiting further instruction.

"Yes, I understand. But you need to understand me Steve, if you don't re-adjust those figures I'll cut your balls off and feed them to my fish back in Seattle." She listened for a second. "If you think I'm kidding then try it and see what happens."

She ended the call, put the phone on the night table and turned to me. "I'm sorry, this is going to have to be quick." She undid the sash on the robe and it dropped on the floor, revealing her naked body. "I have to meet my boss for dinner in an hour and explain why I work with stupid people."

She climbed onto the bed on her knees and I did the same from my side and when we met in the center our arms went around each other and our mouths started kissing. It was an exciting kiss, full of passion and need and desire. The way her tongue practically invaded my mouth while her lips devoured mine made me feel wanted and desired in a way I'd never experienced before. By that point in my life I'd had more than a few girlfriends, and none of them came close to making me feel like this woman did. In my short experience with her she raised my expectations and gave me a whole new idea of what sex could be like.

The woman's hands roamed my body, moving from caressing my back to rubbing my ass and teasing my crack to pressing against my hips and then moving slowly up my sides until they were cupping the undersides of my globes. I moaned in her mouth as she caressed them slowly, sensually, and tenderly, until she moved up to my nipples and pinched them between her fingers. Then she brought her hands around me again and dragged me down on top of her as she fell onto the bed. 

Once there we continued to kiss until she rolled us so she was on top. She moved down and had her face on the side of my boob, giving little love bites to the soft flesh there. When she sucked on my nipple she used her tongue at the same time, flicking the tip of my nipple inside her mouth. She did the same thing when she sucked my clit into her mouth, teasing it with the tip of her tongue, as a finger slipped inside of me and then she did something I'd never experienced. I felt her finger curling, like she was beckoning someone towards her. The sensation caused my butt cheeks to suddenly tighten and my entire torso rose from the bed. Luckily she stuck with me and started to twist her hand in different directions as her finger continued to beckon. It was an insane feeling, and as soon as her thumb touched my clit it sent me spiraling into an orgasm. 

While I lay there, half in pleasurable bliss and half in awe of how she made it happen, the woman crawled up to my face and gave me a kiss that was all at once soft, gentle, hungry, aggressive and hot. Her tongue melded with mine and I could almost feel her passion through it. She grabbed me and rolled us over so she was under me. I took the cue and when we broke the kiss I started slowly licking up and down the side of her neck. Her moans spurred me on, so I gave a few gentle love bites, licked some more, and then opened my mouth and sucked on the side of her neck, pressing my teeth gently onto her skin.

"Don't leave any marks," she said. "Otherwise my boss won't be able to concentrate during our meeting."

I stopped and let out a giggle. Then our eyes met and the way she looked at me set a fire between my legs again. There was an intense lust in her eyes, and somehow it seemed to fill the air around us. The whole room, in fact, seemed to crackle with a sexual energy. That seemed odd at the time, but when I thought about it later, I realized that a good amount of sex takes place in your average hotel room over its existence. And I'd once read that some people believe a place stores up the energy of its experiences, which can be felt by those having a similar experience in that place. Maybe mumbo jumbo, but I know I felt something in the air that night.

After a moment I got out of my head and leaned down to the woman's breasts, letting my wet tongue glide over her soft, warm skin. Her hands were on my head again, stroking my hair and my ears and pulling me towards her when I got it just right. I licked and sucked on her left nipple, savoring the taste of her skin and the moans it caused. I gave the same attention to the right one, and then I pinched and squeezed both while I moved down to her belly button. My tongue rimmed the outer edge, jumped inside and wiggled around until she laughed, and finally dragged slowly down to the red hairs covering her mound.

The woman spread her legs and pulled herself open for me before I could do it. I smiled at her but she didn't smile back, the look on her face saying she was in desperate need of release. She was obviously an A-type personality, all aggression and quick satisfaction. So I lowered my head and gave her what she paid for. My tongue licked around her labia and feasted on the juices that had gathered in her folds. Her taste seemed to feel alive in my mouth. In fact, every sight and sound and sensation seemed to be more intense since I walked into the room. Probably a combination of my nerves and the pleasure of what I was doing. I toyed with her nether lips a bit and finally sucked one into my mouth.

"Ahhh," was her response to my action, so I did the other one as well. Then I gave her whole pussy a good licking all over until I went to her clit and batted it with my tongue a few times. My fingers started teasing the outer edge of her slit, and as my lips came down on her clit and gave a hard suck I slid a finger in slowly.

"OH!" filled the room like a boom of thunder. I moved inside her past my second knuckle and stopped, and that's when I did the same beckoning motion she did to me. The woman made an eerie sound, like metal grinding on metal. Quickly I stopped, fearing I'd done something wrong.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked in fear.

"Oh God, anything but," she gasped, "Keep going!" 

And I did. Her orgasm was marked by a loud moan that had a small growl towards the end of it. When I thought it was safe I crawled up next to her and we kissed again.

"I need to shower before dinner," she said. "Want to join me?"

I said yes and she took my hand and got up and led me to the bathroom. It was very elegant for a hotel bathroom, with off-white tile and a large mirror in an etched metal frame. There was an actual hair dryer that sat in the towel closet, not one mounted in the wall so you couldn't steal it. Anyone who could afford this room could afford their own hair dryer.

We got into the shower and laughed and played like children as we washed each other. There was a little sensual play, some kissing and caressing of breasts, but her appointment kept us from getting into it again. I wanted to, and I resisted the urge to try and seduce her. Remember, I thought to myself, this is a job.

I walked out of that room with almost the same amount I made in tips for an eight-hour shift on a Saturday night at the restaurant. Yet here I'd only done forty-five minutes work. The hotel bar was half empty when I stopped in to celebrate the fact that I wouldn't have to leave college. It was a one-drink celebration too, that place was truly expensive. While I sat there, almost giddy over the fact that my problem was solved, I realized the funniest thing -- I never even got the woman's name.

As the memory faded away I realized the decision to escort was made under pressure, much like my decision to kill Amanda. Maybe I don't make good decisions under pressure. So maybe someone should help me make sure this is the right one. I needed to talk to Kaye.

15.

Getting Kaye alone didn't happen until after our shower. Amanda had the three of us take one together, or more accurately Amanda had us shower her. Kaye washed her front while I stood behind her and did her back, and as I did it I realized I hadn't thought of how I would kill Amanda. When it first came up I took out my knife, but it occurred to me how messy that would end up. It was also a very violent way to kill someone, and I might freak out midway through the act. 

Amanda half turned to me. "Don't forget to wash my ass. Someone might have to stick their tongue up there today."

I used the washcloth and gently cleaned between her cheeks as my mind raced with violent thoughts. Amanda's hair was to one side and I started looking at her neck. Choking her to death would be cleaner. But it would also take longer, and as much as I hated her the thought of taking that long to kill someone might freak me out as well. Plus Amanda has already proven that her reflexes are much better than mine, meaning the chance of overpowering her for a prolonged amount of time was slim. The knife offered a best chance of quick success.

"I just realized" Amanda said, "you got left out of the fun this morning." She was talking to Kaye. Then I heard a moan, which meant Amanda was probably fingering my girlfriend. I had just finished rinsing Amanda's ass when she half turned and said, "Lick me."

I got on my knees and spread open Amanda's ass cheeks. Slowly licking up and down her crack, pushing my face deeper between her globes, I moved further and further down until I reached her rosebud. Despite what you see in porn, it's not easy to reach someone's private parts when they're standing and you're kneeling behind them. It took a little maneuvering, but I finally managed to make contact and Amanda moaned, followed by another moan from Kaye. I licked Amanda's asshole for a little while longer, and then decided to give back what I got that morning. I put some liquid soap on my index finger and pressed it against Amanda's rosebud. She moaned and I started to alternate between caressing around the crinkled rim and pressing against it. I peered around Amanda and saw that her fingers were moving between Kaye's legs, sometimes curled up inside her and sometimes coming out to move over her clit.

My finger gained access to Amanda's rectum as her rosebud finally relaxed. I brought my middle finger up and slid easily into her pussy as well, and with that I started double pumping her. Amanda called out, "Jesus fucking Christ!" Kaye was making some noise of her own, and Amanda had both hands working now, one in front playing with Kaye's clit and the other reaching around behind, probably fingering her asshole as well. We kept that position going for a while, and my hand started getting tired. Amanda had Kaye on the edge, and I think she kept her there purposefully until she was ready, because she said, "Maggie, get my clit!"

I reached up with my other hand and brought it around her front. Something in my head realized this was an opportunity, so when my fingers found her clit hood I didn't rub. I pinched. Hard.

"Ahhh ohhhh!" I knew I hurt her, but I think she came as well. She managed to bring Kaye to orgasm just after that, and my girlfriend leaned against the shower wall to avoid leaning against Amanda. I pulled my fingers from her and stood as I began to wash them off. Suddenly Amanda spun around and grabbed my nipple rings and pulled hard.

"Ow!!!"

Amanda smiled at me. "Just getting you back, sweetie."

After the shower Amanda 'ordered' us to stay naked for the day, and then instructed us to clean up the mess from the party while she stayed in the bedroom, doing God knows what. Kaye and I started working in the kitchen. We hadn't said two words to each other all day and I felt this huge tension between us, but I couldn't think of what to say to break it. It didn't seem right to start out with, "Do you think I should kill Amanda?"

Suddenly, out of the blue, Kaye turned to me and quietly asked, "What do you think she's doing?"

I almost asked her if she was talking to me. "Um, working on her laptop."

Kaye sighed and rolled her eyes. "I mean why is she here."

"I told you, I don't know."

With a stern look Kaye said, "And you're sure you don't have any idea?"

"No, I..." I stopped drying the dish in my hands. "You don't trust me now?"

Kaye stopped washing. "Can you blame me? You lied about yourself."

"I didn't lie to you!"

"No, you just didn't tell me the truth," Kaye said. "I've told you everything about me. Everything. Even that..." Kaye cringed as her hands balled up into fists and her eyes squeezed tight like she was constipated, "...time I got really drunk and threw up on my ex-girlfriend during sex." She opened her eyes. "And I would kill people to keep that a secret. But I still told you. You know everything about who I am, and yet you lied to me about who you are."

"I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you about all the experiences that got me to be who I am."

"Well I didn't know you thought prostitution was a legitimate career move."

"And if you did, you wouldn't have pursued a relationship with me?"

Kaye opened her mouth, and then closed it without speaking. She sighed. "I'd probably still be with you." Kaye bit her lip and looked away. "And I understand why you didn't tell me in the first couple months. But after that, when you knew how I felt about you...it just hurts knowing that you didn't have enough faith in me. That I could handle it."

There were a few moments of tense silence. Then Kaye went back to the sink and started washing. Not knowing what to say, I went back to drying. We worked in silence for a while, until we got to the last few items. That's when, without looking at Kaye, I said, "I found out about it through an online ad when I was looking for jobs. They said they were looking for gay and lesbian escorts."

She stopped and glared at me for a few moments. Then she looked back at what she was working on. "How long did you do it?"

"About two years."

Kaye nodded, and then she was quiet for a while. Probably figuring out how to ask the next question. "How many?"

I sighed. "About ten, fifteen a week. More if a convention was in town."

Kaye's eyes shifted up and her head tilted to the side. If I read her face right the number wasn't as much as she thought it would be. "How good?" Quickly she added, "I mean the money."

This part was going to be fun. "I'd make anywhere between six to eight thousand a month, not including gifts from good clients."

Her mouth dropped and I tried not to smile. "Yeah. It paid for school, remember?"

When the shock passed Kaye took a breath. "So were there, um...you know," she winced and her mouth twisted. "Did you have to do it with skeevy women?" 

With that question the tension eased. She seemed to have a genuine interest in this now. I shrugged. "Not as many as you'd think. I worked for agencies mostly, which kept me with the white-collar crowd. They tend to know about personal hygiene. Most of my clients were corporate women who wanted to have some fun on the side. Some of them dykes and bi's," I smiled, "and a bunch of straights who said that having sex with a woman made them feel like they weren't cheating on their husbands."

Kaye chuckled. "Oh that's really bright."

"Yeah. There were also the rich women who liked having a prostitute every once in a while so they could feel, I don't know, powerful, dirty, naughty, take your pick." I smiled. "Don't get me wrong, there were a bunch of clients I liked. And almost everybody treated me well, so I can't really complain."

Kaye nodded and then was quiet for a moment. I just waited. Finally she looked at me again. "You said agencies, plural. So you worked for a bunch?"

"Yeah. I started out at one, but then you branch out. At the end of it I was on-call with four services. And I had an ad at a website too."

"Website?"

"Organized for escorts. One had a hundred and twenty escorts advertising on it."

"Wow," Kaye said. Then, with a little sarcasm in her voice, "So this was something all the kids were doing."

I felt the tension growing again. "You'd be surprised Kaye. Lots of escorts I got to know were other college students, or wanna-be actors, models, dancers...it's an easy way to make money when you're struggling. Hell, I started to wonder how many people who're famous now were doing escort work when they were starving artists." 




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 03



Kaye was staring at me, and I started to worry that she was getting angry again. Finally, she licked her lips and said, "When you were...escorting...what was the weirdest thing you ever had to do?"

I laughed out loud, if anything just because the tension broke so quickly. Then I covered my mouth. Kaye wasn't sure how to take it so I moved my hand and smiled at her. "Sorry, it's just...God, there's a lot to choose from. But I think that honor would have to go to the woman who asked me to dress up like a clown."

Kaye's eyes widened. "Okay, that's beyond strange."

I shrugged. "She had this weird fetish with clowns. And she turned into a regular too, so I had to do it a bunch of times."

"A little scary there."

"Went with the territory."

Kaye's eyes narrowed. "So you weren't scared? Ever?"

I shrugged. "I was as careful as I could be, kept my knife in my purse. But there's only so much you can do. It was something you couldn't dwell on, otherwise it would affect your performance."

Kaye looked skeptical. "So nothing ever happened that scared you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, you want a scary story? I got friendly with this one girl, Caroline. She moved here to be an actress, and she was good, even landed some bit parts in TV and stage stuff. But she was still tight on money. Needed new headshots, acting coach...thousands of dollars to keep moving up. Escorting paid for what being a waitress didn't. So she calls me one night, said she had a client who wanted to see some girl/girl action. I reminded her I didn't do men and she said he just wanted to watch. I was ready to say yes, but I had this huge exam to study for, so I turned her down. A few days later someone from the agency calls asking if I'd heard from her."

Kaye's eyes widened. "She disappeared?" I nodded. "Did they ever find out who did it?" Kaye asked.

"Oh yeah," I said, my face with a look of sarcasm. "The cops put a missing hooker right on top of their 'To Do' list." '

Kaye shot back a nasty look. "And you kept escorting after that?"

"Yes, in retrospect not one of my smarter decisions. But it was definitely a factor in leaving when I did." Suddenly I remembered my own murder scheme. I'd become so caught up in the conversation that, unbelievably, I forgot about it. "Listen, I came up with something." When Kaye stiffened and her hand reached out and touched my arm I said, "No, wait, you need to listen to this. It's about Amanda..."

"What about me?"

I turned. Amanda was standing there.

This was one of those moments in life where your brain freezes and a good excuse never seems to come. I opened my mouth and out came, "I know why you're here. And why you keep looking at that Rembrandt print. You're going to steal one, aren't you?" Luckily, this wasn't one of those times.

"Exactly," Amanda said. I was temporarily stunned, and I'm sure Kaye was too. But then Amanda added, "And I came here because there are no Rembrandt works currently in New York."

I felt my shoulders sag. "Well, it sounded good at the time."

"I found this in your closet." Amanda held up my old strap-on. "It was kind of buried, looks like you haven't used it in a while. Why is that?"

I was in front of Kaye, slightly blocking her from Amanda's view. Kaye's hand touched my back, and I felt every nerve in my body tense up. "It's me," I said. "After you left I had a girlfriend that liked doing it au natural, you know, no fake man parts involved. I got into it." I cocked my head towards Kaye. "Got her into it too."

Amanda smiled and took a few steps until she was right in front of me. "Okay, sounds plausible enough." Then she smiled her wicked smile. "At least that's what anyone would think. But I'm not anyone." 

Then Amanda stepped around me and stood in front of Kaye. "I think you're the one with the dildo problem." Kaye tried not to react, but a nervous movement of her eyes gave her away. Amanda continued, "I've heard about dykes like you. So hardcore you don't even like having a fake one inside you."

"It's not about being hardcore," Kaye said. "I just like it au natural." Kaye smiled her 'screw you' smile.

Amanda smiled back. "Uh huh." She brought the plastic phallus up until it touched Kaye's chin. "Maybe you just haven't tried it enough."

"Stop it!" I yelled.

Amanda turned to me with a look that literally gave me goose bumps. It was hard to believe someone so beautiful could be so evil. "Looking to take away my fun?"

I stared at her, and with steel resolve in my voice I said, "Fuck your fun."

"You think so?" Amanda smiled. "Both of you, in the living room, now."

She stepped aside and Kaye went out first while I followed. When we got there Amanda said, "Move the coffee table away from the front of the couch."

Kaye and I did as ordered and Amanda lay down on the floor. She tossed me something and I caught it -- a piece from the roll of twine we use to tie up newspapers. "Tie Kaye's hands behind her back."

I had a bad idea where this was going. "No," I said. But Kaye stepped in front of me and turned around, putting one wrist over other. "Just do it," she said. So I tied Kaye's hands, not too tight.

Amanda tossed the strap-on and it landed at my feet. "Put it on."

I hate it when I'm right. "No. No fucking way."

"Put it on or the best teaching job your girlfriend will ever get is at a women's prison."

"No," I said, shaking my head vigorously.

Amanda was about to say something when Kaye wheeled around to face me. "Maggie."

"Kaye, your career is not worth this. I am not doing this to you!"

"Maggie! Put the fucking thing on! Now!" 

The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice took the wind out of my sails. I picked up the strap-on and slid into the harness. Amanda said, "Kaye, on your knees in front of me."

Kaye did as she was told, and Amanda spread her legs and used her fingers to pull apart her lips. "Feast," she said, or ordered.

My girlfriend bent down, causing her ass to stick up in the air, and started licking. Amanda moaned and brought her other hand up to her breasts and began playing with them, squeezing her large globes, running her fingers along the hard nipples, bringing one up to her mouth and sucking on it. It was hard to believe there was a day I thought I loved this woman. I realized that was another decision I'd made badly.

Amanda moaned again. Kaye swirled her tongue around Amanda's folds, occasionally using her lips to kiss and suck on them. Kaye was getting into it, more than I thought she would be. I wasn't sure why, maybe she thought pleasing Amanda would help guarantee we got the tape. Maybe it was to keep what was about to happen off her mind. I looked down at the fake phallus. At least it was narrow. I'd had three fingers inside Kaye the night before Amanda came, and that, along with all the other sex we've had this weekend, would hopefully keep this from hurting her.

Amanda's eyes looked up at me, and there was a gleam in them. "Maggie, get on your knees behind Kaye."

My mouth felt dry. Suddenly I remembered, "This thing is dry. In our nightstand we've got some—"

"No lube."

Amanda's words made me cringe. Kaye stopped what she was doing and looked up. "What?" I said.

"I said no lube. Stick it into her."

I felt bile from my stomach shoot into my throat. Bad enough I was being forced to do something to Kaye that she didn't like, now I was going to hurt her doing it. My voice cracked when I said, "Amanda, please."

Calmly she responded, "Do it now." She looked back at Kaye. "Did I say you could stop?"

Kaye went back to what she was doing as I stepped up behind her. When I knelt down it felt more like my knees buckled from under me. My hands ran over Kaye's ass and I looked at the butterfly tattoo.

Amanda spoke as she enjoyed what Kaye was doing to her. "Don't do anything...to get her started. Just spread...her...uh open and stick it in."

My hands went underneath and I spread Kaye's outer lips a little. They felt dry. My eyes weren't.

"Maggie," Amanda said through gritted teeth. "Do it now."

Using my hands I guided the dildo to Kaye's hole and slowly started to slide it in. The second I met the slightest resistance I stopped. Kaye hadn't reacted so I moved a little further. Amanda was moaning loudly as Kaye kept her going. I was hoping my girlfriend would stop what she was doing if I hurt her. Slowly pushing further until I hit a little resistance again and stopped. Still no reaction from Kaye, and her fingers were pumping in and out of Amanda and she was licking and sucking like nothing else was happening. Very little of the dildo was in, and we had much more to go. But I was going to take it as slow as I could. I pushed a little more and...then it slid in effortlessly. Suddenly it was like a tube of lube was in there. I pulled out quickly and put my finger to Kaye's slit and pushed in slowly, but I didn't need to go slow because there was juice galore. She was soaked. 

Amanda saw my shocked expression. Between grunts and groans she said, "Kaye's wet in there isn't she?" All I could do was look at Amanda. "I knew she would be, I knew and you didn't. Maybe you should have done what I did and read her diary. Then you'd know your girlfriend gets off on being forced to do things during sex."

Suddenly Kaye stopped and her head popped up. I couldn't see, but I heard her crying. "You bitch!" she yelled. She jumped up and ran to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Amanda laughed, a deep, jovial laugh. She threw her head back and hugged herself. "I can't fucking believe you two." Her laughter died down slowly, and she started to catch her breath. "Kaye spent the whole dinner Friday night telling me how you two seemed to know everything about each other after the first date. Pretty sad, huh?"

Kill her right now, I thought. Just jump on top of her and do your best to strangle the life out of her. She's done everything to deserve it. But instead I gave Amanda a cold stare. "At least I know Kaye won't ever leave me with her mess."

Amanda's smile dropped. I got up and left her there, walking to the bedroom door where I took off the harness and tossed it to the floor. Then I slowly cracked open the door, slipped in and shut it behind me.

16.

The last time I saw Carla Fuego we were on her estate on Long Island. We had made love and fell asleep afterwards. When I woke up I was alone in the bed. I turned over and saw that she was standing out on the small balcony that looked over the grounds. Carla was wearing a sheer white slip, and her olive skin made such a contrast that it was easy to see her naked body underneath. She turned and noticed that I was awake.

"So this is the last time, yes?" Carla asked. The heavy Spanish accent in her thick voice always made me a little wet. 

"Yep." I said as I got up and walked towards her. Carla walked away from the balcony and we met in the middle and stared at each other.

"And this is because you are graduating college? Because you no longer need the money?"

"Uh huh."

"So now you go to get a job and have the life of everyone else?"

I nodded. Carla nodded back, then looked thoughtful.

"What would you say if I offered to take care of you?" She put her hands on my chest and started to slowly rub them in circles. "You could live here. And trust me, you would want for nothing."

Her hands felt good. Carla's touch was always intoxicating because she took such good care of her skin and she knew how to touch someone. I closed my eyes as she slid her hands down my chest, moving them delicately over my nipples until they reached the bottoms of my breasts. That's where she dragged her fingers along the sensitive undersides of my globes. I took in a breath and opened my eyes. "I'd say thank you for the offer, but no."

Her eyebrows rose. "That would lead me to ask why."

I chewed on my lip to delay the moment, until I finally said, "There's someone else."

"Another client?"

"Yes."

"And she can offer you more than I?" Carla smiled and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. The room was large, with a high ceiling painted in rich styles over a hundred years ago. There was artwork and pottery and sculpture. The bed was a four-poster job with a mattress that made you feel like you were lying on a cloud. More than that, we were in a mansion that stood on several acres and included two pools, a horse stable, and it's own private beach.

I swallowed. "What you're offering isn't what I'm looking for."

Carla's smiled dropped slowly until it was half a grin. "Ah. I see. And is she as in love with you?"

"Yes."

"Then I am very jealous. You have something I do not."

Softly, I said, "Hard to believe, with all you have."

She shook her head. "It is the greatest misconception of all time that people with money have it easy. Maybe with some things, but with others we only wear more expensive shackles. A poor man or woman can find love just as easily as a rich one. In that area of life, everyone is on equal ground. Everyone has the same chances no matter who you are or what you have."

I stood there amazed, as I always had been, by Carla's humility. The daughter of a man known as the shipping king of the Mediterranean, she had lots of money and too much time on her hands, but she managed to never let that get to her head. With a good amount of regret in my voice I said, "I'm sorry I can't stay with you."

Her face soured. "Don't be. Don't ever be sorry for love." She sighed and looked around the room. "It is something money cannot buy. Not truly." Her eyes came back to me. "You must hold onto it, protect it, and fight to keep it. Because no matter how much money you have, love is something you cannot buy. Not true love."

She stroked my cheek and led me back to the bed, where we made love one last time. Afterwards I looked over and saw that Carla had fallen asleep. As I dressed quietly I noticed the white envelope on the bedside table where she always left my fee. I looked at Carla sleeping there, blew her a kiss and slipped out without saying goodbye. It would be better this way. And I left the envelope on the table. I wasn't for sale, not anymore.

17.

That memory shot through my brain as I saw the scene in front of me. My true love was on the bed, her face buried in the pillows. Her hands were still tied behind her back, and I could hear her sobbing. No, she was bawling. Seeing and hearing her like that pierced my heart worse than anything I have ever felt. A few minutes ago I was worried about hurting her physically, but this was so much worse. Kaye was humiliated; hurt in a way that broke down the strongest woman I know.

It was that moment when I decided Amanda was going to die by my hand, and that Kaye would have nothing to do with it.

I walked over to the bed and gently untied the rope binding Kaye's wrists. Somehow she didn't notice it, because when I got on the bed and tried to spoon my body behind hers, Kaye's head turned with a surprised look on her face. She scurried over to the other side of the bed. "No!" she said, her face turned away from me. "Please no!" She started bawling again.

I decided to wait her out. I stayed on my side of the bed for a while, lying on my back, trying to figure out the details of killing Amanda and hiding her body. But my mind wasn't working with it because I kept coming back to the same old things -- rent a nuclear reactor suit, kill her with a knife, and hope Kaye doesn't notice the body under the couch.

Kaye's sobbing finally died down. I took a chance and reached over to touch her back. She didn't jump, so I moved closer and hugged her to me. We stayed like that for a while, and I could feel her heartbeat slowing down. Finally she said, "Do you hate me?"

I made a face. "No. Why would I hate you?"

"Because I'm a hypocrite. I yelled at you before about not telling me everything about yourself and I..." Kaye sighed. "I didn't even think..."

I thought about that for a moment, and then I said, "Have you ever had anyone, um, fulfill your fantasy before?"

Kaye sighed. "No."

"Okay, so there is a difference. Between you telling me about some fantasy floating around in your head, and me telling you about some of the more defining moments of my life."

She sniffled. "Thin line there."

I sighed, closed my eyes, swallowed, and barely got out the words, "I have a thing for Aviril Lavinge."

Kaye's head popped up. "What?! You hate that bitch!"

"I hate her music, fucking wannabe punk. But for some reason I have...dirty fantasies about her. I don't know why, dammit, but I do."

"Huh." Kaye's head dropped onto the pillow. "Never would have thought that."

We were quiet for a time. Then I worked up some courage, and said, "This, um, fantasy of yours. Is it like bondage, or S&M?"

In a very small voice, Kaye said, "No."

"Are they, like...rape fantasies?"

Kaye sighed and sat up. "No...not exactly. I just get off on being forced to do things during sex. I know it sounds weird. Hell, it must be weird; I can't even find a group for it on the Internet. But it's just a fantasy, and I'm embarrassed about it, okay, that's why I never brought it up."

I said, "But then you're not happy." Kaye gave me a questioning look and I continued. "If you like doing something, or get turned on by something, then why not bring it up to me? Maybe I'll be into it?"

"Or maybe you'll think I'm a freak and leave me. It's not a chance I'm willing to take."

"If it's who you are, then why not?"

"Because being with you is more important than some fantasy I have."

That stopped me cold. Suddenly I leaned over and kissed her. Kaye kissed me back. It wasn't a sexual kiss, it was romantic and bonding and afterwards we just lay down and held each other. Somewhere in there Kaye fell asleep and I got up and went back to the living room. Amanda was sitting on the couch, a bottle of wine open on the table. Her gaze turned to me and she looked sullen and a little drunk. "Just so you know, I really did love you." 

I didn't respond.

"Do you think we would have been happy together?" she asked.

I sighed. Somehow I felt the need to give her one chance to get away. "Amanda, why don't you just leave? Give us the tape and leave."

She stood up and spoke like she didn't even hear me. "I keep thinking about what it would have been like if that little scam worked four years ago. I didn't want to leave you, you know. I wanted to keep you."

"And that right there is the problem," I said, pointing at her. "Your idea of loving me is wanting to own me, and back then I was so desperate to replace my family that I didn't see it for what it was."

Amanda chuckled. "Now you know why I love sleeping with women over men. Men want to control you. From the moment they spot you, their intention is to dominate you. But women, they aren't like that at all. They want to share and be equal. Most women, they don't enter a relationship or a bedroom with the intention of controlling you. And I like that, because it gives me an advantage. I don't have to fight for power when the other side isn't even looking to do battle."

Suddenly I burst out laughing. Amanda looked at me and said, "What's so funny about that?

When the laughter subsided I said, "Oh God, here I was thinking you were probably going to leave and then send the tape out anyway. Just for spite." I closed my eyes and shook my head. "You're never giving us that tape, are you? You're going to leave with it in case you need to use us again."

Amanda smiled. "Smart girl. Not so fast on the uptake, but you get there eventually." She shook her head. "But you're wrong. I plan on leaving the tape for Kaye when we go."

It took an extra second for me to register what was wrong about her statement. "We?"

"As in you and me, are leaving the day after tomorrow. In the morning you're going to go to work tell them it's your last day there. Then on Tuesday, when Kaye leaves for work, you and I will head to the airport."




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 04



AUTHOR NOTE: If you like this hilariously grim little tale, read some of my other equally uninspired fiction:

After the Party
Daphne's New Life
How I Spent My Summer Vacation by Carol Hitchcock
A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad
Screwing My Ex

They came out in that order, and according to one reader, I got better as I went along, so do yourself a favor and read them in that order to avoid getting disappointed by my early lack of skills. Please send feedback. 

DISCLAIMER: Pay attention! This story is fiction and not meant to do anything more than entertain, don't read this stuff with any intention other than having a good time, don't take life too seriously and don't swim after you've just eaten. Isn't it stupid that I have to write these warnings in case someone goes out and does something bad because of what they read in my story? What's happened in our society to cause this? I know, I know, lawsuit-happy people and the lawyers who run commercials that inspire them. Now you have to put warning labels on everything. And I understand that some things need warning labels. Hydrochloric acid – big warning label on that one. With letters four feet tall. But I don't need a cup of coffee with a warning label that says it's hot. I know it's hot. I wanted it hot! Well, not that hot. I take it light, actually.

IV. When It All Comes Crashing Down

18.

Monday morning. Both Maggie and Kaye had left for work, one with a secret mission Amanda had given her, the other with no idea what was about to happen. Which left Amanda sitting alone in the apartment, basking in the glow of her own brilliance by masturbating. She sat naked on the couch and stroked her breasts, squeezing her globes and pinching her nipples. This is what people with power do, she thought. They orchestrate events. Play chess with living breathing people. Make others do things against their will because, unlike those with power, they have no choice. Most of all, people with power destroy their enemies, and Amanda considered Kaye an enemy because she took someone as bright and focused as Maggie and turned her into a house pet. On Tuesday she'd leave a videotape as promised, but it would be blank. The real one would find it's way onto the Internet.

Amanda took a cube of ice from the glass of vodka on the table and sucked off the alcohol, then brought it down to her right tit and let out a small gasp as it touched her skin. She ran it in circles around the areola, slowly shortening the circumference until the harsh cold touched her sensitive nipple. Her hand took the cube away and then brought it back a few times as she reveled in the sensation. Finally she took the cube into her left hand and played with the other nipple while her right hand moved down between her legs, finding the moisture she knew would be there. Amanda didn't need anyone else to give her what she needed. Daddy had always taught her to be self-reliant; it was one of his most important lessons.

In the early days Daddy taught Amanda how to play chess. It was essential, he said, because life is like the chessboard, with pieces ranging in importance and moves that changed every game. Then Daddy would take her to work and she'd follow him around the used car lot, watching him make deals and decisions as he spoke to customers, employees, and people of influence. Secretly manipulating some, directly aggressive with others, like he was playing chess with real people.

He was so was intelligent and resourceful, so unlike Mother. She spent her time hosting benefits for various causes, trying to help people who were too weak or stupid to do for themselves. Daddy secretly called her 'The Useless Twit', and once said the marriage was simply a consolidation of family money. It was a Smart Move, he said, because love only made people stupid. Many of these lessons had been passed down from his father and his father's father before him, and Daddy wanted a son to keep the family tradition. But The Useless Twit had bore only a daughter, and after that decided to adopt because 'there are already so many unwanted children in this world'. Intent on having his own blood be the receiver of the family tradition, Daddy started teaching Amanda.

She was able to watch the lessons in action as Daddy's single car lot expanded to several across the state, and soon he counted the governor, successful entrepreneurs, and other people of power and privilege as his close friends. Daddy's money and influence gave him contracts to supply vehicles to local towns, supported a senator into office, and even stopped a highway from being built near a competitor. His empire became so powerful that when Amanda was seventeen and hit another car while drunk driving, she was never arrested and the people she injured never sued. No record of the incident appears in any file anywhere.

By now Amanda had dropped the ice and had a finger in her pussy and her thumb rubbing her clit. Her other hand cupped her breast and brought it up towards her mouth, sticking out her tongue to where it just touched the nipple. The double sensation drove her insane with lust, for there was no one she enjoyed pleasuring more than herself. She looked at the strap-on sitting on the table and remembered yesterday, when she'd used it to help her drive a wedge between Maggie and Kaye. Or at least it would have if Maggie didn't have such a stubborn, idiotic devotion to her girlfriend. Amanda pulled her hand from her cunt and grabbed the toy, quickly removed the plastic phallus from the harness and gave it a cursory lube job with her mouth before she brought it between her legs and slowly pushed it inside. A moan emitted from her mouth as she felt it fill her up, and moments later she began to pump it in and out, slowly at first, while the other hand rubbed her clit in unison. Quick thinking and a compromise had saved her plan to take Maggie with her. Amanda may have perfected her timing while pulling cons in South America, but the groundwork always lay in Daddy's lessons.

Amanda had applied those lessons early in life. In the sixth grade she used false rumors to start a spat between two friends, thus helping her get into the most popular clique around. In high school she seduced teachers, both male and female, to boost her grades in subjects where she was getting anything less than an A-. And once, right before field hockey tryouts, Amanda slipped regular milk into the drink of her rival, who was lactose intolerant. It wasn't that Amanda didn't work hard for these things; she always gave one hundred and twenty percent to any goal she set. But, as Daddy pointed out, sometimes your best isn't good enough, and in this highly competitive world there are times when you need to create your own luck. That's where the lessons came in. 

The final lesson Amanda learned happened when she went to visit her father just after college graduation. By then the Useless Twit had left him because of not one but two paternity suits from mistresses. Then there was the Federal investigation into corruption, causing all his influential friends to avoid him. He had nothing but a lawyer on his side when the divorce and paternity suits went to court, and that didn't go well at all. Daddy's empire had collapsed. He was financially strapped and in a week he had to report to jail.

They played chess in silence for a while, until he beat her using a knight he had put into a corner early in the game. Daddy explained this would serve as the final lesson for Amanda, and the lesson was to keep an eye on all the players still on the board. Once again he used a real life example to illustrate – he'd found out that a third mistress put the authorities on his tail when he dumped her a year earlier. She was a piece he had ignored, and she was the one that sent him into checkmate.

When Amanda went to bed her father was still in his office and it's where she found him the next morning, hanging from one of the rafters by a piece of cord. Pinned to his tie was a small note. Amanda walked up to her father and read it.

A person of power decides when his own life comes to an end.

Amanda cried. It wasn't out of hurt, but of pride and admiration. Her father had kept his power by not letting others decide how he'd live the rest of his life.

She rocked back and forth on the couch now, riding her orgasm like an out of control bull, letting it ripple through her body until she collapsed sweaty and out of breath. And suddenly she was crying. She hadn't lived up to Daddy's expectations. She had become a disappointment. She had no power, at least not yet. Amanda gained control of herself and wiped away her tears. "Soon Daddy," she said as she looked up at the Rembrandt. "Soon." 

19.

Monday morning I drove to work in a daze. I was going to kill Amanda; there were no more doubts about that now. Aside from what she had done to Kaye, Amanda thought she could force me to leave with her, to live the rest of my life as her plaything. And that just wasn't going to happen. But I was faced with the same problem I had when the idea first came to me – what was I going to do with her body? And I still wasn't even sure how to kill her in the first place. It had to be in a way where she couldn't overpower me and I wouldn't freak out in the middle of the act. Not to mention I had to figure this out by tomorrow morning. The more I thought about all of it the more panic crept through my body, causing numbness in some parts and pain in others.

I barely remember stopping for coffee, and it tasted metallic and bitter when I drank it. As I drove I looked at people in other cars, walking the streets, going about their business just like it was another day. No more of those for me. It felt like a million years since Friday, when I was blasting my stereo and screaming out the window in joy. When I saw a sign for the highway on-ramp I felt a sudden urge to get on it and keep driving. Right out of the state. Leave all this bullshit behind and find someplace to start over, like I did so many years ago.

But that was just a passing fantasy of nervous frustration. I could never leave Kaye behind, even though she might leave me when this was all over. Besides, running was Amanda's way, not mine.

When I got to work there was a project meeting, and some people from the sales team were present. The sales department drops in occasionally to see if we geeks in R&D have overlooked the marketing potential of what we considerer a failure. Dick, my boss, started the meeting, but I barely paid attention to the proceedings since I might not be there the next day. If I didn't find a good way to kill Amanda, I'd have to leave with her to protect Kaye. If I didn't dispose of her body properly, I'd be in jail. And if by some miracle I succeeded in pulling it all off, I was going to call in sick.

"Potassium cyanide, right?" Dick asked.

Oh shit, he was talking to me. "What?"

He sighed. "That's what you used. Could you explain why for our visitors?"

"Oh, sure. I used potassium cyanide because..." My eyes went wide and my jaw went slack, and then I was silent for a while. I'm not sure for how long, but it was long enough for everyone to look at me like I was doing something interesting. But I had no idea they were there, no idea I was staring off into space. Because for the first time in a while, the proverbial light bulb sparked to life over my head. "It's...lethal."

Everyone stared at me like I'd just farted. Dick threw his hands in the air. "Not my first choice, but yes, it can be if ingested. Which is why we use warning labels on our products."

The lead sales guy said, "Good to hear. Someone write that down, please."

The room busted out in laughter. That shook me out of my trance and I waved it off. "Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night." 

Dick looked at me. "Care to take another shot?"

I went on to give the real explanation so the sales people didn't think I was trying to kill the customers. When I finished someone asked a question and I answered it and then the focus shifted to someone else. That's the last I remember of the meeting, because suddenly I knew how I was going to kill Amanda, and how I was going to dispose of the body. I even realized how I could get rid of her stuff, which I hadn't even thought of. All of a sudden I had a plan, one that made me feel like I could have my cake and eat it too.

Part of the plan still involved leaving my job, and by two o'clock I was driving away from that place for the last time. I'd quit before lunch, and it was as uncomfortable as expected. But I was surprised to find that within my fake reasons for leaving there was plenty of truth – I was overworked, underpaid, treated like a monkey despite showing good leadership skills, and thanks to office politics my chances for a promotion were slim. No matter how the next morning worked out I'd be better off with a different gig.

But it wasn't all roses. Part of my plan involved doing something that I felt like shit about before, during, and after I did it. I'd timed quitting and packing my stuff so that I could do it in the middle of lunch, and when I walked into the storage lab Maya was at her desk like I knew she'd be. She was a thin Hispanic girl around my age, with long curly black hair and some nice curve to her. I usually spent my lunch hour with Maya because she was the assistant to a jerk named Frank, who usually went out for lunch. Many suspected he spent the time with another employee who was not his wife. Since the storage lab had to be manned at all times, this left Maya to spend lunches like she was now, at her desk.

"Hey," she said when she saw me. "What's with the box?"

"I quit."

Her eyes bugged out of their sockets. "You're kidding? Why?"

"Lots of reasons." I stole a glance at the door. "And I'm not looking to get into them right now. What I am looking to get into, before I leave this place, is the storage room."

Maya's face broke out in a wide, and slightly nervous, smile. "You serious?"

I smiled and cocked an eyebrow. Maya gave a quick glance to the door, and then she pulled a huge ring of keys from inside her desk and practically bounced to the door on the other side of the room. I followed her, hoping she didn't think it was funny that I brought my box with me.

When we were inside Maya brought the door to an inch of being shut. "Just in case someone comes," she said. I put my box down and we just stood there for a moment. Surrounding us were shelves and refrigerators, all holding chemicals, all locked in cages or with padlocked doors. But that's not why we were there; at least that's what Maya thought. I stepped up to her and kissed her lips lightly, and repeated that twice before I started worrying that this wasn't working for her. Maya is straight, but confessed to me that she'd recently started thinking about trying it out with a woman. I told her I'd be willing to be her first, since Kaye and I discussed having an open sexual relationship. When I told Kaye it might happen she approved, as long as I shared all the juicy details. She even suggested that if Maya liked it she could be our first threesome. Maya had confessed to me that her fantasy was to do it at work, in the storage closet where she spent so much time. That way when she was doing inventory her memories of having sex there would break up the monotony of the work.

Suddenly Maya responded by kissing me back with more force than I expected. It seemed an odd contrast, as I could smell her perfume, something lilac I think, and feel her amazingly soft lips. She put her arms around me and pulled me tight to her. I put my hands to her face and caressed her skin as the kissing became more passionate and tongues got involved. When her hands grabbed my ass and roughly kneaded my cheeks, I remembered an observation I'd made during my escort days about first-timers, and how some of them handled me the way men had probably handled them.

I broke the kiss and separated our bodies. Maya had a questioning look on her face, at least until I started to unbutton her blouse. At first she smiled, then our eyes locked and her face changed to a look of primal lust that made me forget my real intentions here. As I pulled her blouse open I went in for another kiss and rubbed my hands over her bra-clad breasts. Then I pulled away again as I slipped her blouse off and continued to massage her tits. Maya reached back and unclasped her bra, my fingers pinched the cups and pulled them away as she dropped the straps off her shoulders. Her globes were perfectly rounded, with dark brown areolas that I reached out and caressed as I went in for another kiss. Maya's tongue invaded my mouth this time, and her passion for the moment was almost physical in the moan she made in my mouth. I pulled away and kissed down her neck, licked her upper chest and then settled on her right nipple. It hardened in my mouth, and I gave it a nibble before opening wide and sucking at her whole tit.

"Ohhhh, ohhh yes."

My mouth sucked more of her flesh and Maya put her hand to the back of my head, pushing me further in. I used my hand on her other breast, pinching and pulling at the nipple, caressing the underside of the globe, and just doing whatever I could to turn her on. Then I pulled my mouth away from her right tit and went to suck on the left. At the same I brought my hands down to her legs and pulled up her dress until I could get my hands on her legs. She backed away and I kept with her as we awkwardly moved until her back was against a wall. I moved my hands along the bare skin of her legs, moving up slowly as I got to the flair of her hips, finally bringing them together on the triangle of material that covered her mound.

I gave her nipple one last lick as I straightened up and brought our mouths together again. Maya's hands started caressing my breasts through my top, and it took a little effort on my part to break the kiss and say, "You ready for this?"

There was a desperate look on her face as she nodded vigorously. I got to my knees and before I could pull up her skirt Maya unclasped the side and it dropped to the floor, revealing a pair of blue G-string panties.

"Uh huh," I said as I looked up at her. "Somebody likes feeling naughty at work."

Maya giggled. I rubbed my hands around her hips and down her legs and back up to her crotch. She cooed, and then let out a sigh. Leaning in, I kissed the fabric a few times, then grabbed it and slid it off slowly. She was practically shaved; there was only an artfully crafted wisp of hair on her mound. I kissed it, then gave it a few long, slow licks before I used my thumbs to open her flower. Maya spread her legs apart to give me better access, and I put my lips to her sensitive flesh and kissed and sucked at it.

"Oh! Dios Mio!" she cried.

I brought my hand up between her legs and ran my fingers along her wet slit. Maya jumped a little at the sensation. While my fingers got good and covered I licked and probed with my tongue, and when her clit showed itself I sucked on it like a little Popsicle. Maya cried out, and that's when I slowly moved one finger inside of her. Her back pressed against the wall harder as I started fucking her, soon adding a second finger.

"More!" she cried. I complied and sent a third finger in. Maya started rocking so hard against my fingers that it was hard to keep my mouth on her. Eventually she slowed down and that's when I sucked hard on her clit while pressing my fingers up inside of her. And that's when she squirted on me, gushing her juice all over my hand.

"Oh!" she said as she tried to catch her breath. "Sorry, I didn't warn you. I do that."

Suddenly Frank's voice called from the outer room. "Maya?"

For the second time in twenty minutes, Maya's eyes bulged out of her skull. "Fuck!" she said. I put a false look of surprise on my face, since this is what I had been counting on. Maya got her bra and blouse closed quickly, pulled up her skirt and dashed to the door where she stopped to compose herself quickly and walked out. "Hey Frank, how was lunch?"




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 04



She did exactly what I hoped she would do. In her panic she left the keys behind. I grabbed them and found the cage with the potassium cyanide, unlocked it with the third key I tried and grabbed one of the small bottles from the back. Locking that cage up I moved to the one with hydrochloric acid. My hands fumbled with the keys because of Maya squirting, her juice still covered my hand. I kept stopping to wipe it off. I also tried five keys with no luck. Footsteps started towards the door, followed by Frank's voice. "Did you get the folic acid out of storage?"

I dashed to the door, standing behind where it would open. 

"Yes, it's over here."

Footsteps walked away and I ran back to my task. Three more keys with no luck, only two left.

"I'm going up to Greg's office," Frank said, "I'll be back in twenty."

Maya would be in here as soon as he left. I tried the second to last with no luck, figures it was the last key I'd try. I got the door open just as I heard the click of Maya's heels towards the door. It swung open.

"Maggie?" Maya said. 

I appeared from behind the door. "He's gone?"

"Yes. Come on." Maya turned.

I grabbed my box, hoping she wouldn't notice my stuff was piled higher thanks to the large bottle of hydrochloric acid underneath it all.

On the way home I made three stops. One was a hardware store where I grabbed the rest of what I needed: a paper painter's mask and several pairs of thick rubber gloves, a hammer and chisel, a pair of goggles and a bucket with a lid. The gross part was no longer the killing; it was going to be the cleanup. The second stop was the park where Kaye and I first said we loved each other. We said it at the edge of the lake that sits in the middle of the park, and I stood at the same spot with the box that held the wedding rings. Before Friday the thought of those rings brought me joy, but now they're only a reminder that our relationship will never be the same again. I brought back my arm to throw the box in the lake. 

"Hey! Stop!"

I turned. It was a cop.

"Unless that's a rock, it better still be in your hand when you walk out of the park!"

Fucker. I had a mind to flip him off, but getting arrested wasn't a good idea right now. As I got back to the car, I realized I haven't done anything right lately, even getting rid of a small, stupid box. I'm a fuck up of the highest order. I'll probably screw up tomorrow too. That thinking started to weaken my resolve about going through with it, and I knew I couldn't go home like that. So I ended up in a bar called Bill's, a place I'd never been to before.

I sat at the bar and kept ordering drinks. As each one came I held the faint but desperate hope that it would numb me to the point where my current situation didn't look so bad. But at the bottom of each glass was the reminder that my luck had run out. There was no other explanation. Too many bad things happened at once, and only the total absence of luck could be the cause. For many years I'd considered myself lucky – that I had enough brains to stay in school, that I had enough sense to stay alive if it meant dumpster diving behind restaurants for food in Utah or staying away from heroin when I felt so down on myself in New York, that I'd managed to start my life over again without telling everyone what it used to be. It always felt like I was just lucky enough to get what I needed. And now I stood to lose it all, because 'lucky' wasn't good enough anymore.

The bartender came up to me with my latest glass of hope. She was in her late forties or early fifties, with enough grays coming through her red hair to signal it was time for a new dye job. She placed the drink in front of me and smiled. "You've been putting 'em down sweetheart. Not that I mind since you tip well, I just don't want to see you tip over."

"If I do, just sweep me under the rug."

She chuckled. "Let me take a wild guess. Man trouble?"

"Female trouble."

Her smile softened. "Are we talking the female friend trouble, or..."

"Or, dot dot dot."

Her cackled laugh sounded like she'd smoked since she was born. "Well, at least you still have a sense of humor. That's important. Keeps the noose from looking so good."

A customer signaled her from the other end of the bar. "Be right back." When she walked away I was face to face with my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. It seemed like a long time before she came back and said, "I don't know much about same sex relationships sweetie. Hell, I don't know much about men either. Don't get me wrong, they're simple creatures, I've known that since my first boyfriend in high school, but then again I'm on my third husband, so what does that tell you?"

"That we're all fucked."

"Whew, we're just a pair of optimists, aren't we?"

I managed a chuckle.

"So tell me about it," she said.

"You don't want to hear it. It's too much and too weird."

"Honey, I've been behind a bar since I was seventeen. Too much or too weird is a challenge for you, not me."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." And then I laid it all out for her, everything that happened from age fifteen on. It took a little while, but luckily the bar was slow. I left out the part where I was planning on killing Amanda, admitting to a future felony seemed like a bad idea at the time. It was probably a bad idea any other time as well. I just told her that Amanda had left and Kaye was still angry, which is what I figured tomorrow would be like.

When I finished the bartender sighed and said, "That's a bummer."

"Worst part of it is she has every right to be mad. I mean if this was some fight like I've had with other girlfriends, where we both lose our tempers and both act badly, it's both our faults. But I screwed this up all by myself. And she has all the right in the world to hate me."

"For right now, yeah, sure," she said. "But if she still hates you a couple days from now, she's not as special as you think."

"How you figure that?"

"Look, I understand her getting mad about how you lied about your past. It's an instant, emotional reaction. But if even half of what you told me is for real, and by the way you didn't just meet the challenge, you reset the bar, then when she calms down she'll understand why you weren't crazy about telling the truth. If she's worth anything, that is."

When she put the check down I saw that it wasn't half of what I knew it should be. Before I could protest she said, "Bartenders prerogative. And before you get all 'don't want to be anyone's charity' on me, the last bunch of drinks was mostly mixer. Didn't want you dying of alcohol poisoning before you had a chance to make up with her."

I smiled. "Thanks."

"Besides, you'd never fit under that rug."

20.

When I got home I left everything in the car except the potassium cyanide, which was small enough to fit in my purse. The rest I could come out for tomorrow after Amanda was dead.

When I got upstairs Amanda was on the computer. "Are you now gainfully unemployed?" she asked. I nodded. She got up and walked over. "Good. We fly out at twelve forty five tomorrow."

Then Amanda pulled me to her, wrapping her left arm tight across my shoulder blades and her right arm above it, bent at the elbow so it pushed my head towards hers. She kissed me, and reluctantly I kissed her back. When it ended she looked me in the eyes, our foreheads touching. I tried to look away but she tilted her head left and then right, chasing me with her gaze. Finally I stopped running and looked at her.

"It'll be just you and me," she said. "Like it used to be."

My breathing was going so fast it felt like I'd just finished running a marathon. I could feel the air traveling to my lungs, where it seemed to do nothing except keep me alive. There was no taste in it anymore, no joy. My heart felt cold and hollow in my chest. Part of me said to cozy up to her, to make her feel comfortable. The other part of me knew that was the wrong move. My eyes narrowed and in a voice I barely recognized, I said, "The only reason I'm going with you is because you threatened to kill her. Don't forget that. Not for one second."

Amanda just stared back at me for a moment. Suddenly she grabbed me by my ears and forced me back until my head slammed into the wall. I cried out, more in shock than in pain. Her gaze held steady into my now wide and frightened eyes. "You loved me once," Amanda said, "you can learn to do it again."

She let go and walked away. I stayed against the wall, fighting back tears and fear. Tomorrow, I thought.

When Kaye came home she remembered that she was supposed to meet Lucy and some others for a drink. I offered to join her, but Kaye said she'd rather go alone. Yeah, I've got nothing to worry about. Before Kaye left Amanda reminded her, "I still have the tape, and your career, in my hands." I wasn't looking to be left alone with Amanda, so I told her I needed to practice on my violin, since I hadn't done it since last Thursday. I usually practice on the roof because it annoys the neighbors when I do it in the apartment. Just as I was about to walk out she said, "Here," and tossed something on the floor in front of me. It was the folder with the story by Carol Hitchcock. "In case you get tired of hearing yourself play."

I picked it up. "So where did you get this?"

Amanda smiled. "Given to me by the author herself a few years back. Met her down in Rio. I won't bore you with the details."

When I got to the roof the sun was just starting to set. I tried playing, but kept screwing up even the simplest notes. Was tomorrow going to work? And if it did, what exactly was I going to say to Kaye when she got home? Would she believe Amanda just up and left? Was Kaye going to do the same? I stopped playing and put down the violin, unable to concentrate. Instead I sat and opened up the binder. If Hitchcock is as good a writer as everyone says maybe her piece could put my mind on other things. 

"As Naked As A Tree" was a strange title. It turned out to be an autobiographical piece about when Hitchcock was a teenager and she took walks in the woods behind the farm in Kentucky where she lived. At first she did them because she liked being out in nature, but soon it became more about spending time alone with her imagination, and it also gave her time to think about problems she was having, like telling her folks and her friends that she liked other girls. I could relate to that. Then one night she was watching a movie and there was a scene where a woman ran naked through the woods. Just watching it excited Carol. So during her next walk in the woods, she stopped at one point and took off all her clothes. That changed everything for her. She looked at the trees around her and realized they were as bare as she was. She wrote:

"We were all naked in those woods, me and the trees. I hugged one, my naked body against the naked tree. I marveled at how aged they were and the fact that they survived being naked outside for so long, in the cold and the heat, in the rain and the snow and the wind, and it made me realize that life throws things at everyone. You just have to adapt, grow some thick bark and you can get through it." 

After that, Carol only felt truly comfortable with herself when she was walking through the woods naked. It didn't just give her a sexual charge, but one she felt down to the core of her being, like this was the one moment she truly felt alive and not under anyone else's thumb. So I decided to take her advice.

I took off all my clothes. Then I picked up my violin and started playing a piece by Bach. Standing there with the air and sun on my body I felt so alive, so free. I started swaying as I played, feeling the music moving through me like it never had before. And the sunset matched my mood with a perfect golden sky. When I finished the piece there was silence, but I sensed someone behind me and turned. It was Mike, the guy from the apartment across the hall, and in his arms he held what looked like a large computer printer. I turned back to the sunset. 

He walked up and stood beside me. "It's beautiful." 

"I was just thinking the same thing. What's with the printer?"

"It's a long story."

We stood silent for a little, enjoying the sunset. The hues of the sky made it look like a painting or a picture rather than real life. But I knew no one could quite capture the scope of it or the colors, I'd tried many times with my camera. I stole a glance at Mike, the printer still in his hands, his eyes fixated on the scene before him. If my nudity had any affect he didn't show it in the least. 

Finally he said, "I'm going to drop this over the side. You mind?"

"Just as long as you don't go chasing after it."

Half a smile cracked the side of his face. "Would you help me make sure no one is down there when I throw it?" 

I nodded and Mike and I walked to the edge and I looked over. It was the side that faced the next building, so there was little reason for anyone to be down there. Mike brought the printer over his head. It was big and looked to be a high-grade job, and his skinny arms almost lost control of it. But then he steadied, and stood there waiting for my signal.

"Clear," I said.

He heaved the printer over the side and we both watched as it sailed towards the ground. The bulky machine turned over in the air once and then smashed onto the pavement, the casing splitting open easily with the eight-story drop and sending the guts of the thing flying in every direction.

"Cool," I said.

"Yeah," Mike said. For the first time in weeks there was a full smile on his face.

We looked back up at the sunset. The gold color started to turn red as the sun started down over the hill in the distance.

Finally I said, "Kaye's probably going to leave me."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Because she doesn't trust me anymore." I sighed. "We fell in love so quickly, and she trusted me so easily, but then one stupid thing happens and it's like I can't get her to trust me that quickly again."

Suddenly Mike laughed out loud. It scared me, mostly because he'd been so subdued when he was with his wife and so depressed after she left. Then he looked at me in the eye for a while. "That's the funny thing about trust," he said finally. "It comes so easy. Hell, most of us do it without thinking. We want to trust people. We want to have something that connects us, that way we're not so alone. But it's so fragile too, because when we're betrayed it scares us, reminds us of how alone we really are. When trust is lost, it's not half as easy to get back as it was to gain it. That's unfair and it sucks but that's reality."

I snorted. "You're very wise today."

"Experience is a bitch. My wife cheated on me."

I pursed my lips and hesitated asking him the natural next question. It didn't last long. "Anyone you know?"

He shook his head. "Did it with the guy who sold her that printer." He rubbed his hands on his face. "I threw her out, but she keeps calling. Says she wants us back together, keeps begging for another chance."

"You going to forgive her?"

"Don't know yet." Then he shrugged and said, "Who am I kidding? Yeah, I am. She says it was a huge mistake and I believe her. Unless you're an idiot you can usually tell about people. She was under a lot of pressure, from work, from her family, from me. Said she walked into the store and the salesman started hitting on her hard and she just went with it without thinking. Normally she's a very caring person; it's one of the reasons I fell in love with her. I don't think she did it maliciously. Why exactly are you naked?"

"It's a long..." I stopped and chuckled. "Actually it's a short story. Here, read it." I handed him the binder.

21.

After the sunset I got dressed, went downstairs and sat on the front steps. There were many ways tomorrow could play out, and I wanted to talk to Kaye alone before that happened. I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted to say, there was no way I was going to tell her about my plan, but I felt the need to speak with her before it went down. As the time dragged on and I had nothing to do but think, I realized that in some way I was saying goodbye to Kaye, just in case. If tomorrow went badly and I was forced to leave with Amanda, or she discovered my plan and killed me, or if in her last moments she managed to overpower me and...okay, that's enough thinking for right now.

Just after nine the car pulled down the street and I watched Kaye do a horrible job parallel parking it. My nerves were doing handstands as she walked across the street, and my mind blanked on what to say to her as she walked up to the building. Kaye stopped and stared down at me for a slow, agonizing minute. Then she sat down next to me and gave me a big hug. It took me off guard, and I slowly put my hands around her.

"I love you," she said. "You know that, right?"

I felt a smile crawl across my face. "It helps to be reminded now and again."

We broke the hug and Kaye kept her face close to mine. She exhaled and that's when I smelled something. "Have you been drinking?"

She gave me crooked grin. "A little. I, um, talked to Lucy." Kaye moved so she sat facing the street.

"You told her about—"

Kaye shook her head. "No. I was going to. I wanted to tell her the whole thing, get some outside advice. But I realized laying this on someone else..." Kaye sighed. "So I just asked her what I really wanted to know without telling her the details."

"What did you ask her?"

"That's not important." Kaye looked at me. Have I ever you about Da'mon Warner?"

I thought for a second. "No. Is he one of your kids?"

"He was in the first class I ever taught." Kaye leaned back against a step. "Da'mon didn't run with the gangs or deal drugs, and according to school records he'd never caused any trouble. I checked because he was smart, really smart. Got high marks on every homework assignment, aced every test. Funniest thing, you talked to him and he sounded as lost as every other kid in the class, but when it came to schoolwork he was the exception. And I told him that one day." Kaye smiled. "After class. I said that if he kept his grades up I thought he had a real shot at going to college. And he looked at me like I just told him he could walk on the moon." Kaye's face practically lit up with the memory. "I was happy for him, but I was happy for me too. I went into teaching to try and make a difference."

I arched an eyebrow. "And to prove your parents wrong about underprivileged kids."

"Yeah, well, a little of that too. With Da'mon I felt like all my dreams were going to come true, you know? First month on the job and I'm grooming a kid for college." When Kaye's smile slowly faded I knew this story didn't end well. "Three days later Da'mon doesn't show up for class. At lunchtime the principal calls me to his office and tells me Da'mon's in jail, for stealing a car." 

She was silent for a while, so I asked, "Did you ever find out why he did it?"

Kaye nodded. "I went and visited him in jail." Then she looked at me, and in her eyes was this vulnerability that I've rarely ever seen in her. "You know what he fucking tells me? He said, 'I had to steal that car, Miss Foster. You told me I could go to college, and that takes serious coin. So I figured I'd better start earning like everyone else.'"

My jaw dropped. I realized that wasn't vulnerability in her eyes. It was guilt. She took a breath and said, "It was my first lesson in how little I understood about where these kids come from. In their world, the only people who earn good money are the ones who deal drugs, boost cars, run numbers," she paused, "sell their bodies. Other than that, you're just working a low wage job, living somewhere around the poverty line." Kaye snorted. "Me? I grew up knowing I had options. I could go to college. I could travel the world. I could marry some trust fund kid and hang out at the country club while a nanny raised my children."




Trust Comes Easy Ch. 04



I smiled. "If you were straight."

She managed to smile back. "I'm in Hypothetical Land here, let me run with it." 

"You can't blame yourself for how that kid was raised."

"Doesn't mean I'm not responsible. I disrespected Da'mon and every one of those kids by assuming they grew up like me. I didn't even think to learn anything about the environment they live in, and cut them some slack for it." 

"That's funny, because from what I understand you're running just shy of Genghis Khan when it comes to discipline."

"There's a difference between making them behave and refusing to understand why they don't think like I do." Kaye looked straight at me. "Every morning before work, I stand outside of that school and remind myself that I've led a privileged life. Not everybody had parents like mine, who drilled right and wrong into their heads, even a little too much." She sighed. "And not everybody grew up with all the options I did. It should make a difference in how I treat them, because I can't help those kids unless I understand how they think. And I'm not going to do that unless I remember not everyone has been as lucky as me."

Kaye put her hand to the side of my face. "I do that for my kids every day, but I didn't do it for the woman I love the one time she really needed it."

Her arms went around me and she pulled me into a tight hug. It took me a moment to hug her back because earlier I thought we were practically finished. But feeling her body against mine made me realize that one of the reasons I love her is because she makes me feel safe. 

"Are you crying?" she said without breaking the hug.

"I think so," I croaked. "Oh God, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd survive. You did it long before you met me."

I broke the hug and looked at her, tears in my eyes. "Yeah, but I had no idea what I was missing."

Kaye wiped away my tears with her thumb. A few minutes later we decided to go back upstairs. But when we got in the elevator Kaye hit the button for the basement.

I said, "It's a little late for laundry."

Kaye just smiled. When the door opened she walked out, and with a frustrated sigh I followed her into the laundry room. She turned on the light and I could hear a machine going. Someone had clothes in the dryer, and Kaye looked at it and said, "Even better."

"What's even better?" 

Kaye turned and stared at me. Then she pulled her top off and threw it aside, unhooked her bra and exposed her breasts. 

I smiled, tore off my top and bra. The last three days were like one big argument, and this was the make-up sex. It became a race to get naked as Kaye got off her skirt and wedges and panties and I struggled out of my boots and black jeans. Going commando saved me some time, but she still beat me. So there we were, standing naked in the laundry room. Kaye was wearing a waist chain made of silver—

And suddenly she was all over me. Her lips, her hands, even her leg curled around mine. Her tongue chased after mine with a fierce determination, her hard nipples poked like blunt swords, and her pubic hair rubbed against my naked mound sending little shocks through my nerve endings. We were two bare bodies enjoying the warmth of being against each other, surrounded by a cool damp underground room that smelled like fabric softener.

There was the taste of stale booze in Kaye's mouth, but I knew more than alcohol fueled her right now. It was the perfect combination of love and lust, a sweet spot between romance and sex that we found with each other. Kaye pushed me back up against a wall as she groped my breast with one hand and caressed my mound with the other. I moaned when she left my lips and kissed down my neck until she took a nipple into her mouth. Then she bit down lightly, followed by a soft sucking while a finger slid between my lower lips, gliding back and forth on my wet, sticky folds. She ignored the other nipple and licked her way down my stomach as she got on her knees before me. Kaye put her face between my legs and stuck her nose into the cleft of my mound, breathing deeply and taking in the sweet and bitter smell. I put my fingers in place and exposed my sex to her. The first lick was long and slow, and I groaned an "Oh, Pookie." 

With that Kaye went to work. Her tongue flicked and swirled, teased and taunted, glided over and then dug in. At one point she reached up with her right hand and got to the breast she didn't lick, caressing the globe at first and then pinching the nipple. I pressed my back against the wall while emitting sounds that encouraged her. Kaye slid a finger inside of me and started pumping it in and out, soon adding a second one that got me standing on my toes. And then for a brief second my mind flashed back to earlier today, remembering this was the exact position I had Maya in. I pushed the thought out of my head, put my hands on Kaye's and reminded myself right now was not about Amanda or tomorrow. I let myself float on my feelings for my girlfriend. 

Kaye hooked her teeth in my clit ring and pulled as her fingers did an upstroke inside of me. I let out a cry of pleasure and she did it twice more before sucking my love button between her lips and triggering my orgasm. I almost toppled over her as I shook and screamed, but Kaye caught me with her one free hand. When her lips and fingers were out of my crotch area I slumped against the wall and slid down until I was seated in front of her. Kaye was smiling at me and I put a hand against the side of her face.

"That was incredible." I said between gasps.

Kaye pulled me to her and we hugged. "Nothing like a little stress to add to your sex life."

We sat there for nearly a minute hugging, until I pulled back and engaged Kaye in a kiss. It started out as a slow and sensitive lip lock, but quickly developed into a hungry, passionate smooch that led us to more sex. This time I took the initiative, getting on my knees while still kissing and pushing Kaye onto the ground. I broke the kiss and Kaye looked up at me lovingly. Suddenly I slapped her hard across the face.

"Ow!" she yelled, rubbing the side of her face. "What the hell for?"

I froze, dumbfounded. "I, uh, thought...you know, the whole forced to do things during sex thing?"

With an annoyed look, she said, "Well getting beat up isn't one of them."

"Oh. Shit. Sorry. If you could like, make a list, that would help."

When Kaye reached out and grabbed my head between her hands, I thought she was angry. Instead she smiled. "Thanks for trying." She pulled me closer and we kissed, and I moved so I could kiss the side of her face I hit. "That make it better?" I asked.

"Yes it did." Kaye smiled. "But I'm hurting elsewhere."

I laughed. "Tell Mommy where else it hurts."

Kaye ran her hands up and down her body. "Just kind of all over."

I leaned down and kissed her on her throat. "There?" I asked. With her eyes closed Kaye nodded, so I started licking and then sucking on her neck. When I did it a little too hard she cried, "Hey, it doesn't hurt that much there!" Kaye is always worried about getting hickeys where they can be seen. She didn't want her students picking on her.

I lay on top of her, straddling her left leg, and asked, "How about here?" My left leg came to rest on her pussy and I could feel the wetness on my skin. Pressing my body against hers, our lips came together and showered each other in affection. I started grinding my leg into her sex, the feeling of my skin against her most erogenous zone driving me like fuel. She began to rise and meet my thrusts, causing our breasts to meet as well and our nipples began to harden at the sensations. Then Kaye brought her leg up so it would rub against my pussy. It didn't make perfect contact, but complaining wasn't something for this moment. Our faces separated and stared at each other as we humped one another, our mouths agape and emitting strangled sounds, totally oblivious to anything but ourselves.

When Kaye said, "I want your mouth down there," I kissed her briefly, then pulled away and turned myself around so my face was at her pussy. I also straddled my legs over her head so we were in a sixty-nine. Grinding each other got us good and started; we were both wet and ready when the licking began. I slit my fingers into her easily, and Kaye's tongue met with no resistance as it dipped into my slit. My tongue circled, flicked, and sucked on her hood, and Kaye matched my movements to try and make us come together. Except that while I was fingering her slit, she moisturized her digits on my juice and ran them up my ass crack, centering on my rosebud. Slowly circling the crinkled brown hole, Kaye kept playing with it until it her finger slid inside. I cooed at the feeling, that widening of my back door. She only moved in to the first knuckle, and then gently fucked me. By now we were licking and sucking on each other's clits, and when Kaye sucked hard on mine it sent me over the edge.

"Ohhhhhh! My God!" I cried.

I took a few deep breaths and then continued to feast on Kaye. She kept working her finger in my ass, adding to my post orgasmic pleasure. Within minutes she joined me in that pleasure, and after we removed our fingers from each other I rolled off of her. We lay on the floor for a while, breathing heavily and rubbing each other's legs. Kaye's hand strayed down and she tickled the bottom of my foot, I yelped and did the same back to her. We laughed and helped each other stand up.

"What the hell!"

It was the old man from upstairs. He stood there with an empty laundry basket. We'd been so preoccupied with sex that we didn't notice the dryer had finished, probably a while ago. It was the second time that day I'd been caught naked, once on top of the building and this time underneath it. Kaye and I laughed as we hurriedly grabbed our clothes and ran out of there.

We got dressed on the elevator ride upstairs. "I was thinking," Kaye said. "After this is over, when Amanda is gone, we should move to a new place."

I felt a lump building up in my throat. Somehow I managed to swallow it and say, "Another apartment?"

"Or another city. Do something exciting like that."

"Are you really in the need for any more excitement after this weekend?"

Kaye smiled. "I just thought we could start fresh. You and me. After all this, starting over would be a good thing."

I nodded, knowing that after tomorrow I might not be there for her. With no feeling in my words I said, "Yeah. That'd be good." I looked up at her and forced a smile. Kaye smiled back and hugged me. The skilled liar does it again. I suck.

22.

The next morning I got ready like I was going to work, as normal. Kaye usually leaves before I do, and when she came over to give me a kiss I gave her a long, passionate one. Our tongues intertwined and our arms encircled and I held her as tight as I could without hurting her. We broke the kiss but stayed in the hug.

"Wow," she said. "What was that for?"

I swallowed and tried not to sound nervous. "For last night. For being you." I reached up and pushed some hair out of her face. "For being wonderful."

Kaye smiled, and at that moment I realized that despite all I'd been through so far in life, all the hardship and all the loss and all the pain, nothing would ever hurt me more than losing her. It felt like the greatest and saddest moment of my whole life.

"I've got to go," Kaye said. She kissed me again, opened the door, and made quick eye contact with me before she closed it. 

I continued to stare at the closed door as Amanda walked up behind me. "We've got to get ready," she said, and I followed her to the bedroom where she told me to pack a few things in a small bag. She would buy me new clothes, better clothes (i.e. clothes she liked) when we got to where we were going. I picked a few items, not taking it seriously since I knew we wouldn't get very far. Amanda sat on the bed and watched me, probably to make sure I didn't leave any notes for Kaye. As I finished up I saw Mr. Pookie still on the bed. I grabbed him and stuffed him in the bag. Amanda might have gotten suspicious if I left him behind.

"I'm finished," I said solemnly, trying to act like I would if we were about to leave. Meanwhile I was trying not to show my fear about what was really going to happen. "I've got to eat something before we go. I don't fly well unless I eat."

"Take your time. We're not leaving for a while."

That surprised me. "Why not?"

"Less time at the airport. Plastic surgery and fake documents aside, I don't like taking chances."

So I went to the kitchen and made myself a bowl of cereal. I also fixed a glass of orange juice, took the bottle of potassium cyanide out of my pocket and poured some in. This was my plan. Every morning Amanda had a glass of orange juice. Putting it in there would hide the almond smell. After she was dead I'd strip her naked and drop her into the tub, and then go downstairs and get the supplies out of the car. The gloves, goggles and painters mask would help protect me when I poured the hydrochloric acid on her body, dissolving all her soft tissue and sending it down the drain. Then I'd use the hammer and chisel to break apart the bones, put them in the bucket and cover them with the lid. Gather up her clothes and stuff and take them to the drop off box for the homeless shelter down the street. Go bury the bucket in the empty lot behind an abandoned building two towns away. Come home and throw up.

I brought the glass out to Amanda and set it in front of her, then sat in the other chair and continued to eat my cereal. She was working on her computer, and she didn't look at the glass. I didn't want to be obvious and point it out, so I just kept eating. Amanda shut down her computer and packed it away with the rest of her stuff. Then she got up and took the Rembrandt print off the wall. 

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"My father gave this to me," she said. "I gave it to you because I thought you were like him, and me." She took the print out of the frame and rolled it up, then put it next to her bag. "But I was wrong."

"Huh," I said. "I think that's the greatest compliment you've ever given me." I finished my cereal and got up. "Aren't you going to drink your juice?" I asked.

"No. It's all yours."

I felt a pain in the bottom of my stomach. "Don't you drink one of these a day?"

"Not when I fly. Maybe you need to eat, but I can't have anything in my stomach when I get on a plane."

And just like that my plan went to shit.

"Okay," I said, picked up the glass and headed to the kitchen. Just as I turned the corner I started bringing the glass to my lips like I was going to drink it, in case she got suspicious. As soon as I was out of sight I lowered the glass and poured it down the sink, then ran the water and washed out the glass in case I wasn't here when Kaye got home. Which was looking very likely.

Now what? There was no way I could leave with her. For a brief moment I considered waiting until we got to wherever we were going, but that involved being around unfamiliar territory and people. Then I realized that Amanda might have people she knows at our final destination, people who will meet us at the airport, who are living where we're living. Would I have to kill them too? 

No. Now was the time and here was the place. My mind started racing as my eyes looked around the kitchen for a weapon. It didn't take long for them to settle on the knife set. Back to my original plan. I took a big one out and reached behind me, slid the handle into the waistband of my jeans so the blade was flat against the small of my back, covered it with my T-shirt and reminded myself to be careful about how I moved. Just as I started walking out of the kitchen, Amanda turned the corner and I froze in place. 

"It's time," she said.

I nodded, and she dropped her bag by the door before walking me into the bedroom to grab my bag. Then she turned and I followed her out towards the foyer. My hand reached behind me. Amanda took her jacket off the coat rack, her back still to me. I slid out the knife. Amanda was putting on her jacket and I came up behind her. But I hesitated, and she turned towards me. I hid the knife behind my leg.

"Shit, the print." She walked towards the living room to get the Rembrandt print. I put down my bag and followed her. When she leaned down to pick it up, I was right behind her.

It was now or never. I raised the knife, but then fear gripped me, and I hesitated again. Amanda stood and turned. She saw the knife. I lunged, swinging the knife down towards her chest. It stopped inches from the target. Amanda's hand had a vice grip on my wrist, and I cried out as she twisted it. The knife clattered to the floor and she spun both of us around, sending me flying into the foyer. As soon as I hit the floor I struggled to get up, but Amanda was right there and she shoved me hard against the wall. She gave a karate chop to my side and then landed a punch to my lower back. I slid to the floor.

Amanda walked away and I struggled to turn over. I had thought of her strength and reflexes as very animal-like, and now I knew her rage was that of a serial killer. By the time I rolled over she was coming back towards me, and in her hand was the knife. 

"This is the Maggie I used to know," she said with a smile on her face. "The one with the fire. Too bad you decided to use it like this."

Amanda kneeled and grabbed my shirt, pulling me towards her and pushing the tip of the knife against my throat. "You were so close Mags," she said. "So close to living a very comfortable life. Now you've shown me that you can't be trusted. And I can't risk that." I winced as I felt a pain and then a trickle of blood running down my neck. "Any last words?" she asked. 

I spit in her face. She smiled. "I'll take that as a no. Well I've got some last words to you. Better luck in the afterlife."

Amanda was about to strike when suddenly the front door opened and Kaye stepped in. She wasn't supposed to be off work for hours, but since she interrupted my murder I wasn't going to complain. Kaye looked at us, me lying on the floor beaten and Amanda holding a knife to my throat, and without missing a beat she said, "Am I interrupting something important?"

The knife came away from my throat. Amanda stood and smiled. "Just irony in action. I wanted Maggie back, and I was threatening to kill you to do it. Then, she goes and tries to off me with this." Amanda held up the knife. "That must make you feel real special."

Kaye smiled back. "Actually, it does. So do me a favor while I'm enjoying this moment. Get your shit and get the fuck out of my place."

Amanda laughed. "Fine. But say goodbye to your job bitch.

Kaye smiled. "I already did."

Two jaws dropped. "You quit?" I heard myself say.

"Yep," Kaye said. She turned to Amanda. "So you can leave now. And I'd be quick about it."

Amanda turned the knife towards Kaye. "Why's that?"

Kaye looked at her watch. "Because right about now Maggie's friend Lisa is calling the cops. They'll be here soon."

For the first time since she got here, Amanda looked stunned. Then she ran into the living room. Kaye put down her bag and then came over to help me stand up. "We'll talk about this later."

Amanda came back with the print and said, "I need one more thing before I go." 

I said, "If it's a kiss, you can kiss my ass."

Amanda took a gun out of her jacket and pointed it towards us. Suddenly I knew what was in her lockbox.

"Okay," I said, "I take it back."

Amanda smiled, and said, "I want Mr. Pookie."

I felt my breath catch in my throat. "What for?"

"That's my business."

I opened the bag and took out my doll. Tears were welling up in my eyes. "Why do you have to take him?"

"Just give him to me."

Sense completely left me at that point, and I said, "No!"