This is the final story of this series, which is a companion to my story Truth & Admiration.
I’d like to thank ButteredCrumpet for helping me finish these last few chapters. Her contributions and our dialog have been invaluable – and made finishing a story I didn’t want to end much more enjoyable.
I’d also like to thank those of you who have been reading along, for sticking with me. I have tried to make each story in this series stand on its own merits, but if you have been following Leethie from the beginning I’m grateful to you for your time and attention. I hope it’s clear how much I’ve come to enjoy her.
My intent is not to offend, but this is a d/s lesbian romance with strong themes of nonconsent and reluctance. If that’s not your cup of tea, I understand and hope you will find another story to enjoy.
As always I hope you will enjoy the story, and that if you do you will leave a comment.
XOSNS
‘Miranda is going to love it!’
The errant thought came into Leethie’s head as she stared at herself in the mirror. She flushed with disappointment and embarrassment as her mind caught up with itself for the hundredth time. Seeing the reaction play across her face, she dropped her eyes in shame and struggled to shake off the unwelcome confusion.
“What do you think?” her mother asked.
She looked in the mirror, at her bare shoulders. The dress hugged her figure, accenting her narrow waist and pushing her breasts up. She twisted her hair into a thick gold rope and held it up so she could see her long neck, twisting to see her bare back. The narrow fit looked beautiful on her already long frame, even so, the heels made her ass sit wonderfully high. The little bustle, with its dozens of tiny pale pink silk flowers, was a naughty indulgence on the otherwise minimalist lines of the design.
“It’s beautiful, mom,” Leethie told her – and it was – but she had a hard time keeping the anger and disappointment from her voice. The dress was everything she had ever dreamed of. The wedding was going to be everything she had dreamt of. But as she looked in the mirror at her mother’s smiling but concerned face, at her little sisters and the seamstress. She unconsciously covered her wrist with her hand. The misery threatened to overwhelm her.
She missed Miranda, and hated her for it; hated fucking Thom.
“Whatever I want, whenever I want,” he’d growled in her ear as he bent her over.
That Sunday morning after Miranda had returned home Thom had held Leethie to her promise and cornered her the first chance he got. Catching her on her way to the bathhouse alone. She felt nothing as he grabbed her from behind and reached around to jerk her fly open. She let him, felt it happening at a remove; like she was standing apart from herself, watching in confusion.
‘You started this,’ she told the part of herself that couldn’t believe this was happening. Pushing her pants down he took her from behind. Right out in the open, and she let him.
They were hidden from view of the farmhouse only by a small utility shed, but Miranda was still in easy earshot. With her jeans around the tops of her wellies and hands against the side of the shed, she had been afraid he’d try to fuck her ass, but he had slid into her easily instead. When she had seen him coming after her, Leethie had thought of Miranda’s cries. She pictured him slipping easily into Miranda, his cock still wet from fucking her. That image was enough, she was wet and open for him and had cum despite herself. Thom held himself to his promise, sliding out of her without cumming.
“Look at you,” he’d said as he cooled his cock with a handful of snow. She had collapsed onto her knees when she came; was staring at the snow. “Slut.”
She’d watched his hands from the corner of her eye as he buttoned his pants, making no move to get up or cover herself until after he had walked away. She heard the gate bang, then the door to the farmhouse. She was still trying to pull up her pants, they were soaking wet from the snow. She was stunned.
He had used her and treated her like a whore… although the tone he spoke in was so strange. Whatever else was going on, he was clearly getting off on degrading her. Had she’d gotten off on it as well? For a moment she had felt his excitement building with hers until she thought he would finally cum, but he didn’t – or not then, not with her. And then she had humiliated herself by cumming. He had felt it, had judged her for it. And he was right.
‘I am a slut.’
Her fingers were cold as she buttoned her jeans. Her panties were mucky and stuck to her. Resuming her path on shaky legs, Leethie trudged through the virgin snow towards the bathhouse. In the woods the snow on the path wasn’t as deep and seemed finer, like powdered sugar sifted by the canopy of cedar and fir.
She had put the laundry in the washer before the “squall”, but hadn’t been back and worried that they might have gotten musty. But it had been cold and when she opened the washer she was relieved to find their clothes still smelled fresh. She loaded the dryer but didn’t start it. Turning on the hot water heater and stripping down, Leethie stood naked at the basin and hand-washed her panties before putting them in the dryer along with her wet jeans. She showered to the rhythm of her jeans drying. Her head was empty of thoughts, her heart hollow.
Thom was fucking Miranda loudly in the attic again when she came back to the house from her shower. She sat by the woodstove and looked at a page of her book, listening to them. Her pulse pounding behind her eyes.
“I think it’s having you in the house,” a rosy-cheeked Miranda told Leethie that evening as they got ready to sauna together. “It’s crazy,” she laughed, “he won’t leave me alone.”
But Thom wasn’t alone in that. As angry as she was listening to them, Leethie found herself wanting Miranda more, not less. After they had finished their first sweat and showered, she told Miranda to shave her. She sat on the bench beside the shower legs spread, still steaming as Miranda settled down onto her knees with her kit. Thom’s shaving cream went on cool and smelled clean and mannish. It made Leethie think of waiting for her father at a barbershop when she was a girl.
“I miss our tub,” Leethie told her.
“I know,” Miranda agreed with a sympathetic pout. But she was smiling, her fingers playful. She had shaved Leethie the first time in their old tub, not long after they had moved into their little studio apartment. When they went to look at it together the first time Miranda had warned Leethie that the place was tiny.
“But it’s super cute and the rent is cheap,” Miranda had explained in a rush as they climbed the stairs. “But whatever, wait till you see the bathroom it’s fucking amazing, it’s as big as the kitchen and has an old-style Victorian pedestal sink and the biggest clawfoot tub I’ve ever seen!”
“It’s fucking enormous,” Leethie had gawked when she saw the tub.
“Told you!” Miranda had preened. She had known Leethie would love it, had told her so.
Leethie remembered the two of them squashed in front of the pedestal sink, not too long after they had moved in. They had been elbowing each other and bumping hips playfully as they brushed their teeth, but Leethie had turned in earnest as she handed the razor to Miranda.
‘Because what better way to baptize that tub?’ Leethie thought.
“Shave my legs,” she’d told her. Miranda had looked at her in surprise, wiping the last of the toothpaste from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She’d still had bedhead. They had been out late the night before and were both feeling a little worse for wear. The apartment was quiet. Leethie dropped her towel and stepped into the tub and waited.
Miranda had looked nervously at the razor and then back to Leethie. This wasn’t like Europe. It wasn’t like after Leethie’s dull date. This was the light of day. Leethie wasn’t applying any force, they weren’t “roughhousing” or drunk. She was commanding Miranda to fucking serve her like a slave and expecting her to obey. Leethie studied her.
Miranda’s brow had creased, and her lip stuck out in a pout. She was struggling with herself. Guilt? Shame? But she was looking at Leethie’s naked body. Miranda had seen Leethie undress plenty of times, had stolen looks, but she was really looking now, not pretending not to. Leethie felt no shame, had nothing to feel guilty about, she wasn’t the one eating pussy after all. She stroked her thighs with her fingers.
“You should warm up first,” Miranda said simply, and reached for the worn brass knob that controlled the tub’s ancient shower head. The bathroom floor had a drain, and the walls were tiled, so rather than hang a shower curtain the girls treated the bathroom as a wet space. The downstairs neighbors had never complained.
Leethie smiled as she stepped back to the far end of the tub. She touched herself, enjoying a wave of triumph as Miranda fiddled and adjusted, then finally signaled to her with a small wave to enter the warm stream. “Here.”
Leethie hadn’t sexed-it-up, but she’d made a show of it, letting Miranda watch as the water warmed her skin. She soaped and washed her legs, took care to wash her breasts and pits, the crease of her ass, and her pussy. Miranda watched this all, biting her bottom lip between her teeth, before shutting off the water and watching her drip.
Miranda took off her nightshirt and the towel she’d had wound around her waist, hanging them both on the door before pushing her panties off and stepping out of them. She stepped into the tub and retrieved the misshapen bar of soap Leethie had been using. She squatted and began to run it over Leethie’s legs, until she could make suds. Leethie raised her right foot onto the edge of the tub – like Washington crossing the Delaware – while Miranda scrubbed the other leg with both her hands, running them from her ankle, up her calf, over the knee, and up her thigh to just below the crevice separating thigh from pussy before sliding them back down to repeat the process until Leethie’s leg was smothered in a thick lather.
Miranda’s breath was ragged and shallow. Leethie switched feet so Miranda could do the other leg. She enjoyed seeing her stooped low, her hands working a lather up over ankle and calf, but when Miranda’s hands were rubbing the soap over her thigh, fingers dangerously close to Leethie’s pussy, eyes averted and cheeks burning, that had made Leethie wet, she had felt herself opening; a charge building.
‘She doesn’t need to look,’ she thought with a smile, looking at how close Miranda’s face was to her. ‘She can smell me.’
Checking her work Miranda reached for the little razor. “You’re stubbly,” she admitted, rinsing the suds off her hands on the wet floor of the tub.
She had done a careful job, obviously a bit unsure at first – doing a familiar task from an unfamiliar angle, but Leethie could feel her getting the hang of the difference. As she shaved Leethie’s thighs she had carefully avoided any contact with Leethie’s pussy, had studiously avoided looking at it, at anything other than the immediate task at hand. Leethie waited to say anything until Miranda was finished.
“You’re not done,” she said; imperious. Leethie had known exactly the image she was projecting in that moment, her long lean legs spread as wide as the tub would allow. Her ass, tight and high, her narrow waist and rib cage. Her large breasts, standing out full and round, her nipples hard and long. She knew how much Miranda coveted them. That she wished she was as beautiful and womanly. Leethie felt herself flushing with pride, the pleasure of displaying herself this way was intoxicating. The absolute knowledge of the effect she was having on the girl humbling herself at her feet.
Miranda had looked up at Leethie. She thought of how much she had liked to watch Miranda sulk and huff in that moment. Miranda had known what was coming next, had hardened herself to rebel but as Leethie lowered herself to sit on the edge of the tub and spread her legs wide, Miranda’s internal rebellion had visibly collapsed; shoulders slumping she yielded to the command.
Leethie remembered watching her back as she twisted to rinse the razor and wet her hands and the soap. She was so thin, so beautifully pale and petite. She had admired Miranda’s beautiful square shoulders and lovely narrow rib cage, her pinched girlish waist, and her remarkably womanly ass. Leethie had told herself that her judgment of Miranda’s beauty was platonic, but she had fought the desire to squeeze her with her thighs, gather her up in her arms and hold her tight.
“Damn black girl.”
The jab hadn’t engendered the usual howl of protest. But perhaps it was the way Leethie had delivered it, an appreciative whisper. Perhaps it was just the context, the two of them naked, Miranda about to shave and eat Leethie’s pussy. Whatever it was, Miranda turned, a shy smirk on her face.
She crouched awkwardly, perhaps not wanting to take such an obviously subservient pose, thought better of it, and knelt. She picked up the soap and worked it in her hands, setting it down and rubbing her hands together until she again had a rich lather. Her gaze fixed on Leethie’s pussy. Leethie, perched on the lip of the tub with her legs wide, stretched them wider, placing her right heel up on the edge of the tub beside Miranda’s shoulder.
Miranda reached out, turning her hand over so her fingers faced out and down, gently rubbing the warm foam over the sensitive skin. She worked outward from Leethie’s lips, soaping the surrounding area, her inner thighs, the mound of her mons, her fingers moving into the crack of Leethie’s ass, she blushed as her finger touched Leethie’s asshole. Nervously, hands trembling as she took the razor from its ledge, eyes focused and lips pulled between her teeth, Miranda steeled herself with a deep breath and set to task.
“Don’t miss a spot,” Leethie told her. “We want it perfectly smooth.”
Working from the outside-in now, Miranda began with a few bold strokes. The concave spaces where Leethie’s thighs met her crotch clearly worried Miranda and required a few tries. And as the razor moved closer to Leethie’s labia she worked in smaller more tentative movements, tiny little virgules hardly even landing as they stroked her flesh. Eventually, she went over every rise and crease around Leethie’s pussy. Using the fingertips of her free hand, slippery with soap Miranda tested her work, feeling for any random whisker, any imperfection until her skin was smooth and totally hairless.
She set the razor down, and twisted to turn on the shower, Leethie stayed on the edge of the tub, letting the steaming spray hit her, watching Miranda move under the spray to wipe away the residual soapy lather and admiring the work she had done. Leethie leaned forward, pressing her wet breasts against Miranda’s face, and reached over her shoulder for the little brass knob. She turned off the water. Miranda was kneeling between Leethie’s thighs, red face pressed against Leethie’s wet breasts, her hand still touching her freshly shaved pussy.
“You’re not done,” Leethie told her. Miranda flushed a deeper red, but she didn’t frown or whine. Instead, she put her hands on Leethie’s hips, leaning back a little to admire her own handiwork, before bowing low. Leethie raised both her feet to the tub’s edges, to either side of Miranda’s shoulders, and leaned back against the tile wall. Miranda reached her tongue out and drew lines across Leethie’s mons, trailing towards her labia, the growing smell of Leethie’s arousal blending with the fragrance of the soap.
”Eat that pussy, Da!” Leethie moaned as Miranda pushed her tongue into her. Hands clawing at her ass pulling Leethie closer, to drive her tongue deeper. She was in danger of slipping off the lip of the tub, clutching the edge hard flexing with all her strength to keep herself in place.
“HAH!” she called, less a laugh and more an involuntary gust of pleasure, as Miranda’s tongue pushed up and her lips descended, encircling Leethie’s clit. She sucked hard for a moment, but then dropped again, her tongue sliding and pushing against Leethie’s wet flesh. She had pushed her lips into Leethie. Letting them follow her tongue, her whole mouth given over to Leethie’s pleasure, even the rhythmic hinging of her jaw adding to the dance. Miranda had looked up then, her eyes sparkling with a pleasure that had made Leethie’s breath catch.
“You,” Leethie had whispered, again husky with appreciation and wonder. Miranda opened her jaw wide, dragging her tongue upwards and again wrapping Leethie’s clit in her lips, sucking hard. This time Leethie was already at the brink, she was holding
Miranda’s head, pulling her to her, as she bucked and jerked.
“FUCK!” She slipped from the tub’s edge, sliding wetly into the tub, Leethie’s ass pushing Miranda’s knees out from under her, the two of them in a wet bruising jumble, laughing and whinging as the aftershocks of Leethie’s orgasm made her jerk and twitch under Miranda’s weight.
Miranda had accepted shaving Leethie as one of her household duties. She’d had to be told, especially at first, but she warmed to the task, to her role. She had clearly looked forward to it, even reminding Leethie if she waited too long, which Leethie liked most of all. Leethie had enjoyed letting Miranda shave her legs, but watching Miranda shave her pussy was what really got her wound up.
“You know, I like this.”
“What? The shave… the shower… the sauna?”
“Everything, all of it.”
“I know. I missed this too…” Miranda didn’t look up, focused on what she was doing, but she smiled shyly as she worked. And then, after a long pause, she asked, “Is it strange for you, hearing Thom and me?”
“No, it’s good,” Leethie lied, smiling down on her. “When I brought guys home, it made you jealous.”
“It did,” Miranda confessed, her face flushed, turned away in shame but then she had turned to look at Leethie. “But I liked it too… I couldn’t help it. More than anything it turned me on… hearing you fucking… hearing you cum… I felt like you were doing it for me, partly.”
Leethie thought of the sounds Miranda made while Thom fucked her, so high and joyful. She imagined making Miranda squeal like that. Thought of Miranda howling his name.
Leethie felt her mood souring, turning dark. A pensive silence filled the air, as Miranda finished the shave.
When Miranda had finished, they went outside to finish cooling down. Leethie was angry, felt ugly, and watching Miranda move about, hips rolling, carefree, felt resentful. Rather than take her usual place off to one side of the little bench on the deck, Leethie sat in the middle, legs spread. Miranda stopped and looked around guiltily.
“It’s still light Leethie,” she whined, looking out across the pasture in the direction of the old farmhouse, at the windows. “If he looks out, he might see.”
“Then you better hurry.” Leethie told her flatly, “so he doesn’t.”
Miranda was holding two bottles of beer. She screwed her face up as tears filled her eyes.
“Leethie, don’t-”
“Now Miranda!”
Miranda’s jaw went tight and she dropped onto one knee. Setting the beers down on the icy deck, she dropped onto her hands and knees and lowered her face between Leethie’s legs, caving to her sense of duty.
‘Obligation,’ Leethie thought darkly.
Leethie reached for Miranda’s hair, meant to grab it, to badger and force her, but instead, she pushed her fingers through the soft fine strands, petting her gently. She loved her hair, its strange mouse-gray color, so uniquely Miranda. They stayed there like that for a long time, Leethie petting Miranda, Miranda still, breathing hard, before Miranda broke the silence.
“Can we please go in the sauna?” she whispered; head bowed, face hidden.
“Not until you eat my pussy,” Leethie told her. Her voice surprised her, it was soft and gentle, almost motherly.
“But Thom-”
“Now Da.”
Miranda looked up at her, pleading with her eyes, but her lips were open and wet. The tip of her tongue resting between the little pearls of her teeth.
“Do it,” Leethie commanded.
Miranda stuck out her tongue and licked Leethie softly. She made no effort to split and enter Leethie, but instead smoothed her tongue over Leethie’s outer lips; caressing the freshly shaved skin to either side of Leethie’s open wet channel. And Leethie made no move to hurry Miranda to her task; instead, she let herself enjoy the gentle teasing, taking pleasure from the sight of Miranda’s beautiful face between her legs.
Finally, Miranda moved her open mouth over Leethie’s sex and pushed into her. Sucking wetly while her tongue worked deep, Miranda stared up at Leethie who was squeezing and pinching at her breasts. Miranda’s eyes were no longer pleading. Leethies breasts ached, her heart was heating her whole chest.
“You like that,” Leethie told her. “Being told; doing as you’re told.”
Miranda moaned into her, her tongue picking up pace. Her sucking growing more insistent.
“If he comes I don’t want you to stop.” She told her. “I want him to watch you finish.”
Miranda squeezed her eyes closed, maybe picturing the scene. Leethie saw that she was touching herself; watched her arm working at pace with her mouth.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Leethie taunted. “To be caught. You like to be watched. You like that I can hear him fucking you. I bet you wish I could see you too”
Miranda was nursing Leethie’s clitoris now chugging in and out, her cheeks pressing against Leethie’s inner thighs.
“Would you like that Miranda?” She cooed. “Would you like me to watch you getting fucked like a big girl?”
Miranda was working Leethie with her lips and tongue as she sucked, her rhythm becoming frantic. Leethie stretched her spine and straightened her legs into a stiff V, bracketing Miranda’s hunched form. Miranda began to shake and Leethie felt her core turn molten watching her friend begin to cum.
“Stop playing with yourself you little slut and pay attention to what you’re doing,” she ordered. Her heart leapt and her blood rushed as Miranda’s arm went instantly still. But Miranda was still shaking, her sucking still frantic as Leethie felt her own orgasm rising. Leethie choked down the scream rising in her throat as they came together.
Leethie had squeezed her eyes shut and thrown her head back. She took a long slow breath and opened her eyes. The sky was bright and clear. Miranda’s pursed lips were still pressed against her, cradling her clitoris. Her breathing ragged. She turned her gaze downward, her thighs were clamped against Miranda’s ears. Her knees thrown over her narrow back, legs flexing furiously hard, almost cramping; hands curled in tight fists, pulling her in close, by the hair. Leethie stretched her legs wide, dropping her feet back down to the icy deck, and unfurled her fingers, watching Miranda’s chest expand and contract. Her ribs showing through the thin muscles of her back.
With some effort Miranda slowly stood, leaving the two beers. Her knees looked bruised, her hair standing in strange directions, her lips looked swollen, but her whole manner was meek. She took Leethie by the hand and led her back into the sauna. Miranda climbed onto the lower bench and stepped aside so Leethie could take her place on her towel on the upper bench. Once she had, Miranda climbed between her legs, eyes still downcast.
“Don’t pout,” Leethie told her, “you did good, Da. I liked that.”
And she had. The darkness that had threatened to spoil her evening was retreating. Leethie pushed her hands into Miranda’s hair. Pulled her to her chest, held her there. Miranda mashed her face into Leethie’s breasts, smoothing it back and forth before stopping to pepper her with kisses. Her little kisses repeatedly finding their way to Leethie’s nipples, as if by accident or mere chance, but each time they did they grew wetter, her lips looser, until slowly but surely she was suckling at Leethie.
Leethie’s legs were spread wide and she pulled Miranda down against her. Squeezing her waist between her thighs, Leethie ground her pussy into Miranda’s belly, they were both already sweating. She liked watching Miranda nurse, her lips splayed and soft over Leethie’s nipple, Her cheeks gently drawing in and releasing. Leethie wished she could feed Miranda this way. The idea of it made her moan and squirm, Miranda’s eyes opened in surprise, but then drooped in hooded pleasure.
Leethie had never let Miranda suck her breasts before and wondered why. It felt so good, she wondered if she could cum this way.
She was grinding her pussy with fervour now, albeit somewhat uselessly against Miranda’s soft sweaty stomach.
She thought of Miranda admitting she masturbated listen to Leethie fuck guys; that she got off on it. She thought of masturbating while Thom fucked Miranda. Remembered listening to her as her pleasure got the better of her. Leethie thought of cumming as Miranda’s calls became wild and frantic and she came. She thought of Miranda calling out Thom’s name.
The feeling of ugliness she had been pushing away overwhelmed her. Leethie broke Miranda from her suck, sitting up she pushed Miranda back until she was laying on her back, with Leethie straddling her. Miranda looked surprised and put up some resistance, but despite moving slowly Leethie used all her strength, she made a point of using all her strength. Climbing over Miranda’s chest, mashing her breasts under her thighs, and holding her arms down above her head by the wrists, Leethie pinned Miranda down. They were both panting in the heat.
“Do you want me to watch Thom fucking you?” Leethie demanded, her tone playful, belying the force she had used to subdue Miranda, and the pressure she was putting on her now; wrists tightly wrapped in fists.
“I-” Miranda started, her eye’s shifting nervously. “I don’t know.”
“You do know,” Leethie told her. “Which is it, would you like it or not?”
“N-No,” she stammered, “I don’t want you to just watch.”
Leethie was shocked by the answer. She imagined Miranda on her belly, sucking at her cunt while Thom fucked her from behind. Imagined her struggling to suck Leethie’s pussy while he shoved his cock in her ass. She saw Thom’s face, gloating as Miranda’s lips pulled away from her to call out his name.
“You know I’m not into that dyke shit,” Leethie muttered as she loosened her grip on Miranda’s wrists. Defeat washing over her, shaming her.
She put her hands on top of Miranda’s head and pulled her mouth against her sex.
“Stop fucking around,” she whispered, but rather than sounding stern or dismissive her voice sounded longing and needy. She was begging. Miranda’s mouth embraced her, her tongue pushing at Leethie’s wet flesh, but her eyes looked worried, Leethie thought, maybe even pitying. Leethie closed her eyes and turned away, leaving Miranda to her suck.
Miranda’s tongue pushed through Leethie’s wet entrance, her movements hungry, almost desperate. Licking and drinking at Leethie. She wrapped her tongue around Leethie’s clit; lashing, trilling, and thrusting wildly, blindly. Leethie’s face was dripping wet. She imagined she could taste the tears mixed in with her sweat.
“Miranda,” she whispered to the ceiling, “you’re so good.”
It was almost a full two weeks after the squall that Leethie finally got offered a job. She’d hoped to find work at a software startup in the city – but nothing had panned out. Instead, she’d gotten a job in town at a small press. Miranda, who was working at a bakery, had been impressed.
“Seriously, what the fuck, I’d kill for that job.” Miranda had sputtered. “And you’re getting better paid than anyone I know in town!”
Leethie had laughed at Miranda’s mock outrage, but her feelings of disappointment had turned to pride.
Through a friend of Miranda’s boss, she was able to find a furnished room with a kitchenette above a garage owned by an elderly couple. It was tucked away from the street in their big backyard and was within walking distance of her job and the second-best bar in town (there were only two). She had a private entrance and it was near a large park on a cliff overlooking the straits. She liked it there, and Miranda liked to come and hang out there after work, but still, Leethie spent most of her free time at the farmhouse.
Miranda had told Leethie that three couples had shared the farmhouse once upon a time. Leethie had trouble imagining the mechanics of that arrangement. But even so, she doubted the little structure had ever seen more sex than it did in the two weeks that had followed the storm.
Although, even months after, Leethie felt like she and Thom were still running Miranda ragged. But the small distance that the move created between them brought some sanity and seeming stability to the love triangle. Leethie was still spending her weekends in the farmhouse with Miranda and Thom. The saunas with Miranda. Thom wherever and whenever he demanded it – which was usually just moments before loudly fucking Miranda.
The weekend it all came to a crashing end both she and Thom had pushed their luck. Friday night, as Thom had climbed the narrow staircase to bed, Leethie had stripped off her pants in the living room and pointed at her feet. Miranda had watched her, her eyes flitting to the steep narrow staircase and Thom’s disappearing heels.
She had started to make a silent appeal as Leethie slid her panties down over her hips. Again, glancing nervously up the steps, the sounds of Thom moving around upstairs. Leethie could picture him undressing, wondered if he planned to put on a show tonight and fuck Miranda, or if he would wait until the next night, after his sauna – after he’d had a chance to fuck Leethie first.
She stepped out of her panties and stood, watched as Miranda’s internal struggle ended, and she walked over, head bowed, to kneel at Leethie’s feet.
Leethie took a shuddering breath as she pulled her shirt off and stepped so her feet were spread wide, allowing Miranda entrance. There was the bang of Thom dropping something, and Miranda’s head jerked guiltily to the stairs, but Leethie put her hands on Miranda’s head, loving the feel of her soft hair, and turned her back, pulling her in.
Miranda gazed up at Leethie as their lips touched, as Miranda embraced Leethie with her mouth. Her expression, soft and adoring as her jaw began to work.
Leethie listened as Thom settled into bed, the soft creaks, and shifts of his body; Miranda’s wet lapping. She and Miranda were staring at each other, Leethie’s fingers in Miranda’s hair. The sounds from above faded from her mind as Miranda’s tongue became the center of Leethie’s world. Already she could feel an orgasm rising, and Miranda seemed to know. She used her fingers to spread Leethie open and expose her clitoris. Wrapping it with her lips she began to softly suck.
Leethie’s knees went weak. She caught herself and straightened, only to have them give again and again. Leethie was pumping her hips as her knees made these small slow drops. Miranda’s eyes were smiling as Leethie took a sharp breath and her core went liquid and clenched. Leethie surprised herself as she sprayed Miranda’s face and hair, but Miranda didn’t flinch. Her mouth moved downward and drank at Leethie. The sound was soft and wet.
It was late the next night that Thom had come to her in the little sewing room. There had been no hungry looks or furtive touching. The three of them had passed the day with no hint of what was happening. She and Miranda usually sat up drinking for a while after they were done with their sauna, waiting to visit with Thom a little before they all went to bed. But Leethie and Miranda had both been drop-dead tired, and as it turned out Thom had taken an especially long time to finish, so they had gone ahead and called it a night without him.
Laying in the dark, listening to Miranda settle in up above, Leethie was sure he would come to her. She dreaded it but would play her part. He had taken so long that she had given up waiting, her eyes drooping after only a few minutes of reading.
She had fallen asleep but felt Thom over her. He had pushed off her duvet and was pulling down her panties. Her eyes seemed stuck together, but she squeezed them tight and forced them open. He was naked and his skin was cool and dry. She could feel his erection brushing her thigh and opened her legs to him.
He had only ever taken her from behind, so she watched his face with special interest as he pressed against her. His features were mild, even relaxed. None of the anger she expected. The head of his cock was pulsing against her entrance. She thought of him fucking Miranda this way, cumming inside her. Leethie could feel herself heating up at the image, opening to him, and suddenly he was in, sliding through her easily. She was wet and ready.
He lowered himself to his elbows and began to move his hips in long slow strokes. She circled his shoulders with her arms, reaching tentatively, afraid he’d shrug her off, but he didn’t. She held him as he began to push with more force. Their eyes locked, her breath shaking.
His lips were close to hers, their breath mingled but he made no move to kiss her. She thought of kissing Miranda in the shower; the clean cool taste of her mouth, her smooth wet tongue.
He was pumping faster now, the thin mat was making tiny sounds that felt enormous; deafening in the still of the night. Her legs were spread wide and bent, her knees held high. Afraid to leave marks, Leethie pressed Thom’s back with the insides of her wrists, her hands bent upwards and away like claws or wings. His skin was moist, his temperature rising. Thom’s breath was coming in little huffs. She thought of Miranda’s percussive cries of ‘AH! AH! AH! AH!’ as he fucked her hard and fast.
She had thrown her head back, her mouth open and eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to stay silent. Her stomach was slick with their shared sweat. Thom was moving in and out of her, his pubis striking hers with each stroke. Leethie’s breasts ached, longing for Miranda’s plump red lips to engulf them. She felt as if she were bursting; her belly rushed with thick liquid pumping of Thom’s thrusts. Leethie thought of Miranda kneeling in the shower, she arched and squirmed in a paroxysm of pleasure.
“I have to pee,” she had told Miranda.
The water was off, but the shower head was dripping on Leethie. They were both wet, still cooling down, but clean and refreshed after their second sweat. Miranda had carefully washed and rinsed Leethie. Had turned off the water and begun to raise herself up and was reaching for the curtain when Leethie’s words had stopped her.
Miranda had blushed scarlet but held Leethie’s gaze. She had still had her hands on Leethie’s thighs and gave them a squeeze. Besides a moment of drawing her lips between her teeth and swallowing, Miranda made no other show of what she was feeling. Instead, she lowered herself back down onto her knees and settled her ass onto her haunches, tipped back her head, and licking her lips, had obediently opened her mouth.
She had looked up at Leethie, but Leethie had stared at her lips. They were full and wet. She had put out her tongue, not too far, just flattened it over her lower lip. Her small pearly teeth were white and perfect.
Leethie’s breath had shaken as she took her place over Miranda. She had wanted to pee on Miranda’s leg, had imagined possibly showering her little breasts and neck while Miranda whined and complained, maybe spraying her face – nothing like this. Her knees felt weak as she placed her feet wide and tilted her hips forward. With her index and middle fingers, she parted her lips, held herself open, and waited. For a long moment, nothing happened. She was afraid she was too nervous, that she wouldn’t be able to go through with it.
She had already finished two beers and had started a third. The need was real. Miranda looked up at her. Her expression was placid and expectant; affectionate even. Trusting.
The first spray came as a spurt, surprising Miranda who closed her eyes as it splashed off her tongue at her nose and onto her face. Then the stream came. Powerful and clear. Miranda’s mouth made little movements, shaping the sound of the rush, almost like music. The corners of her lips seemed to want to curl into a smile. But the bowl of her open mouth quickly filled, drowning the little song, stretching the little curls into nothing. Leethie was shocked to see Miranda’s neck work, and her tongue retreat momentarily, but she hadn’t closed her mouth; had kept the stream centered down her throat as she swallowed.
“UH!” Leethie had barked, as much in shock as with pleasure. But Miranda hadn’t flinched, again Leethie filled her mouth like a bowl and again Miranda struggled to swallow. Urine spilled from her lips but Miranda’s mouth was empty and quickly began to refill.
She was able to swallow a third time, but just barely and the stream had overwhelmed her. She coughed and piss sprayed her face and Leethie’s thighs. Leethie was holding Miranda by the hair, had peed on her face while she coughed and gagged.
When she was done Miranda cautiously opened her eyes, her face and hair glistening with piss. She looked up and smiled like the cat that had got the cream. Leethie had wanted to kneel and kiss Miranda, to tell her she loved her, but thought she might weep. Instead, she looked down on her wet smiling face and gestured to her crotch with her chin telling her, “let’s go in the sauna and you can clean this up.”
Thom had dropped on top of Leethie and pushed his face into the nape of her neck. His hips were rolling in and out as steady as the tide, drawing almost his entire length out of Leethie and thrusting back into her. She was thinking of Miranda licking the piss off her skin, smiling up at her as she drove her tongue in. Leethie was beginning to cum, she felt it like a pressure wave moving up through her abdomen.
She opened her eyes, the room was upside down, but there, hanging in the doorway was Miranda, her face a mask of horror and pain. Leethie felt herself seize up and go rigid, but the orgasm was already on her. Her eyes lost focus and then squeezed shut of their own volition, her neck spasmed and stretched, her mouth was forced into a rictus of pleasure, and her hips bucked against Thom’s.
His face still buried against her neck, he slid his cock slowly out of her and lifted his body off of hers. Leethie was shaking and jerking. Her head was still stretched back and her eyes closed. She was afraid to open her eyes but forced them open. The doorway was empty. She looked up to see Thom, panting, staring down at her.
“Whore,” he whispered, but he was smiling. She lay there as if in a trance while he stood up, grabbing his towel, and dried his erection. He was looking at her the whole time, smiling.
She listened to him leaving, her heart racing. It was hard to hear the soft steps up the stairs behind the pounding in her ears. Her ears strained, convinced there would be screams and crying. But there was nothing.
Leethie was standing, pulling her shirt over her head. She heard the creaking of Thom moving around and settling in, but no recriminations, no heartbreak. She was dressed now, her bag in her hand, moving towards the door. She froze. She had heard something. Thom whinging or gasping… it had sounded like “don’t” – but then nothing, or almost nothing. She had stopped mid-step right at the bottom of the stairs.
She heard wet sounds and soft moans. This wasn’t like the shows Miranda and Thom liked to put on, this was something else. She thought of the quiet surreptitious sounds of Thom’s masturbation, but then she heard Miranda gag. She was moving again. Using all her strength to turn the doorknob as slowly and steadily as she could. The door swung open in absolute silence. The only sound was Miranda’s wet slurping and gagging.
Leethie eased the door silently closed and the knob back into position with the same slow pneumatic force she’d used to open it. The sound of Miranda’s blowjob was gone.
Leethie slipped her feet into the shoes and the only sound was little drops hitting their toes. She was crying. Tears poured from her eyes, blinding her. It hardly mattered, she knew the entranceway in the dark. She opened and closed the front door with equal care. And for a moment stood facing the entrance. She was biting her lip, tasted blood, was afraid she would sob, that if she did she would wail and scream and pound her head against the doorway. She took a deep trembling breath and turned away from the farmhouse and walked on brittle weak legs to the Volvo.
She had no memory of the drive into town; of how she’d gotten to her little coach house. She was still crying, her eyes hurt. With her landlords at the coast for the week, Leethie went ahead and parked her car in the garage, and closed herself in the apartment above. For a long time, listening as her answering machine fielded a series of calls, all dead air followed by hang ups. She watched numbly as the sky went from black to overcast. Calling in sick, she closed the blinds and hid. Her landlords had asked her to check their fish while they were gone, and she knew she should do it, but Leethie couldn’t even brave that short walk across the yard.
The phone rang a few times that morning; work checking in, more hang ups, Thom saying “Leethie pick up. Leethie you need to pick up! Jesus Leethie, this is bad. She moved out. We need to talk.” More hang ups. She let the machine take them all.
She spent the day in bed nauseous, slipping in and out of fitful anxiety dreams of being accused, of being caught, of falling. But as terrible as the dreams were, they were still better than being awake; until they weren’t.
She woke up and it was dark. The dream she’d been having had seemed to have been going on for hours, and unlike the anxiety dreams it had been terrifying, was still terrifying. In the dream everything had been too big, or somehow wrong – as if her arms had weighed tons, her fingers had been miles thick. But now that the dream world was gone, the wrongness and the terror clung to her, and something stank. It was a powerful animal smell acrid and musky, she was choking on the stench. She raised her arm and gasped, it was her own body. She stank. It filled her nose like a physical thing, was suffocating and disgusting. She coughed and sat up, afraid she was going to throw up. She felt feverish and parched; didn’t know what time it was. The room was familiar, the lights from the street as they should be, but everything was alien and wrong. The fear from the fucking dream was still on her, even sitting up. It wouldn’t fade. She was going mad.
She pushed herself out of bed and went to the bathroom. Turning on the light she stared at herself. She stared back at herself in obvious alarm, eyes bloodshot, her skin looked sickly and pale. She splashed her face and drank out of her cupped hands. The water tasted metallic. Her heart was thundering in her chest, she was short of breath; the fucking stink. The dream’s terror didn’t break.
“Wake the fuck up Leethie!” She stared back at herself in the mirror. Stripping, she turned on the shower, not waiting for the water to warm, she stepped in, hoping the shock would wake her, but it didn’t. The fear and the stink of the fear clung to her, even under the water.
She scrubbed at herself but was alarmed when instead of lubricating her skin the soap seemed to stick, leaving sour gluey smears under her arms, on her flanks, and all over her hands. Raising her hands to her face, the soap smelled alkaline. She gagged. Wondered if she’d throw up there in the shower, wondered if it would bring some relief, but she turned the water up as hot as she could stand and scrubbed away the smears of fouled soap.
Leethie was shaking as she toweled off. Her skin was angry red and steaming. The stink filled her nose, was in her nose, coating it. Wrapped in her towel, she stepped out her front door onto the little wood deck. Stood with hips pressed against the rail. Looking out at the lush suburban yards in the half-light, all so well kept, all so perfect.
She took deep breaths, trying to clear the smell from her nose, to escape the fog of terror from the dream, trying to calm herself.
“Wake up Leethie!” She wanted to call Bobbie, tell her everything, and ask her what to do. She imagined Donald picking up, his voice alarmed, imagined Bobbie’s voice crisp and strict, and loving. She was sobbing.
“fuckfuckfuckfuck… FUCK!”
She lay down again, the smell was still there, sour and musky, but maybe she was growing accustomed to it, it was no longer choking her. Her skin stuck to itself, felt filmed. Every time she closed her eyes images of non-things in non-places, terrifying in scale – meaningless but frightening – leapt out at her. But finally, sleep won; the nightmare continued to wake her, but the terror was dulled. Like the stench, maybe it hadn’t faded, but she had simply become accustomed to it.
The next morning she woke up shaken and exhausted, but thankful for the light of day. Work called again, and Thom, begging her to pick up.
“Leethie! Leethie pick up! Please Leethie. Jesus, I don’t know what to do. Why won’t you talk to me?!”
She just lay in bed, listening to the voices on the machine, they were just sounds. But then there were calls when no one spoke, and those pauses before the connection was broken Leethie listened, not sure what she was hoping to hear; fearing. Mid-afternoon Thom came and pounded on the door and called to her.
“Leethie! We need to talk, you can’t just hide! What the fuck Leethie? You started this! What did you think would happen?!”
After a while, he gave up. More hang ups.
Wednesday morning Thom woke her up calling through the door again.
“Leethie I know you’re in there. Leethie you need to open the door.”
But he didn’t know she was in there, she could hear it in his voice. She was tangled in her bedding, the comforter pulled up over her head. Muffling his voice and shrouding the morning light, but trapping the stink. She wanted to puke.
“Please Leethie… just open up,” he called. “Jesus fucking Christ Leethie, I did exactly what you wanted, I played your fucking game TO THE FUCKING END!”
Leethie was shaking. He had screamed loud enough that a dog had started barking. There was a long silence, she wondered for a moment if he had left, if he had snuck away.
“Don’t shut me out…” he pleaded. “Please Leethie, everyone in town knows, it’s all falling apart.”
She wrapped the pillow over her head, right around her ears. Barely able to breathe through the linen and down, she wondered if she could suffocate herself this way, imagining Miranda finding her, imagining her wailing. But then she thought of her standing in the doorway, how still she had been, the cant of her head, as if she were watching a beetle jerking and writhing on its back.
“You started this. I did what you wanted,” he whined, his voice searching the silence for answers. “I.. all I wanted… fuck, this is so bad Leethie, so fucked up but I did it, I did what you wanted, everything you wanted…”
She was grinding her teeth, fighting back the nausea. The sound of his voice was making her sick, her mouth was flooding with saliva, she gagged, and spit it onto the mattress, fighting not to cough, fighting not to scream at the top of her lungs, to tell him what a piece of shit he was, what a piece of shit she was.
“…the fucking teasing. I just thought about how you were at school. Your fucking game… Jesus Leethie, don’t you get it, I… fucking did this for you,” he almost screeched, his voice desperate.
She threw up. There was nothing in her belly, foamy yellow bile burned her throat and sinuses, spraying out of her nose as she fought to choke it back.
“You wanted it rough, so I was rough. You didn’t want me to cum… so I came only in her… so I did. I… I KNOW it turned you on… you got off on it… this wasn’t just me! Please, Leethie. I didn’t want to hurt Miranda… you weren’t there… it was so bad.” his voice, snotty and pathetic now, choking on his sobs. She was wiping her lips on her sheet, turning away from her own filth, but she couldn’t turn away from the stink, from the awful taste and burning in her throat and nose.
Leethie listened to him weeping, imagined the ugly cry, the snot bubbling, blending with tears. She hated him, wanted to run at the door and kick him down the stairs. Her body was shaking as she pictured him flying back off the deck like a sack, crashing down the steps.
“It was our thing… it was fucking twisted, but… I fucking cheated on Miranda for you, with you, because-”
The phone rang. She listened as the machine picked up, the pause before the connection was broken. Thom had been listening too. Had quieted down. She could hear him weeping. When he started talking again she could tell he had sat down, his back against her door.
“Every time I fucked Miranda, I thought of you, imagined your face, I wanted it to be you, I just wanted to be with you.”
He had wept at the door. Told her he needed her, but finally, after what felt like hours he had left. After a while, the phone started to ring again. Work wanted to know where she was, her mother telling her “Leethie darling, I heard from Thom, he’s worried about you. What’s happened, baby? Call me.” More hang ups. Then Miranda’s voice. “Leethie?” Just that, her sweet girlish voice saying Leethie’s name and an open line while she waited. She scrambled to reach the phone,knocking it off the table as she snatched up the receiver, the little table crashing to the floor. The line was dead.
She woke up with a jolt. Sat up weeping, naked, looking across the room at the phone, the little table, all where they should be. There was vomit in her hair.
That night, long after Thom had gone, after the neighborhood had gone quiet and their windows had gone dark, she packed her car. It didn’t take long. She fed the fish and left a check for her landlords, called work, and left a message: “I have to leave.”
It was their last sweat, and Thom had put a five-gallon bucket full of icy cold well water on the bottom bench for them. After an hour and a half, it was still cold, even in the sweltering heat of the sauna. In the bucket was an old enamelware pot Miranda had used as a ladle. She had been scooping water and tossing it on the stove to steam up the room.
Even after showering and cooling down together on the little bench drinking beers, the atmosphere in the little room was still thick and humid. Miranda had been feeding the stove and if anything their last sweat would be their hottest.
As usual, Miranda entered first. She climbed up on the bottom bench, unwrapped her towel, and arranged it on the top bench, then carefully climbed up and arranged herself. But instead of leaning so her legs were on the arm of the L-shaped shelf that ran along the side of the stove, how she usually sat, she sat with her legs along the front of the stove, facing the corner where Leethie always sat.
Leethie hesitated but then began to mount the bench. She took off her towel and arranged it. Miranda had the chipped enamelware pot next to her and was tossing water at the stove with her fingers.
“TSSSTSSS!”
The drops dancing and skittering across the rough black steel, hissing, and sizzling. Leethie twisted and began to lean back when Miranda stopped her.
“No, come here Leethie.”
She was sitting with her knees bent and spread, displaying her pussy. It was smooth and hairless. Her breasts looked firm and swollen, her nipples were dark and rigid. They reminded Leethie of her mother’s. She was gesturing to Leethie, who climbed onto the bench and moved towards her on her hands and knees. She was flicking water at the stove, the air was thick with steam.
TSSSTSSS!
Leethie felt awkward and clumsy in front of her. She was so beautiful and graceful; the way she sat, the tilt of her head, she looked regal. Her bare pussy.
“You look like you’ve never seen a pussy,” she said, her voice smokey and low – conspiratorial. Leethie realized she was staring and looked up. In the strange light of the stove’s red glow and the thickening steam, she looked unearthly; a foggy halo blur, but beautiful and compelling.
Leethie’s lips were wet and parted, they felt swollen, her tongue felt enormous. She was drooling.
TSSSTSSS!
“Sometimes I get so twisted up inside I can’t think, do you ever get that way Leethie?” She had her hand on the side of Leethie’s head, petting her hair, comforting her. “It’s like my belly is full of coals and I just want to jump and scream.”
Leethie nodded, but she wasn’t sure she understood, she just wanted to please the older girl. She looked at her for clues, for guidance, but her face was obscured by the steam.
TSSSTSSS!
“I feel like that now. I’m so nervous and tangled up,” she told Leethie, and then dropping her voice to a whisper she said, “I just need to relax Leethie, but I can’t by myself. Will you help me?”
Leethie’s mouth was open, and she was breathing so hard she had dried out her tongue, but closing her mouth and wetting it she nodded.
TSSSTSSS!
“I knew I could count on you,” she cooed from behind the steam. “come here Leethie, come closer.”
Leethie leaned forward through the steam towards her voice.
“I don’t want to kiss you, you little dyke,” she laughed, making Leethie freeze, her stomach dropping in fear. “No it’s ok dear, come here,” she told her, pulling her head down until Leethie was on her elbows, ass in the air, looking at her open weeping lips. “Kiss me here Leethie, you’ll like it and I need it Leethie. I’m all tangled, it will help me relax. It’s the only thing that will settle me down, I swear.”
Her hand was tangled in Leethie’s hair, mussing all her mother’s careful work, but Leethie didn’t care. She wanted her, needed her, and Leethie wanted so badly to please her, she would do anything she asked.
TSSSTSSS!
Leethie pressed her lips against her wet labia and felt her jump as if shocked. She pulled back, afraid she had hurt her. But the hand on the back of her head held her tight, pulled her in further, mashing her mouth into the hot opening.
“Don’t you dare stop now,” she told her, rubbing herself against Leethie’s face, smearing her lips and cheek. “That’s my good girl, now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
Leethie obeyed. The taste was sour and strong, the smell musky and overpowering. She rebelled, but she couldn’t pull away, she was held there by her hair.
TSSSTSSS!
“Don’t stop Leethie, feel it with your tongue, feel how smooth it is.”
Leethie forced herself to do as she was told, she used her tongue like a finger, smoothing it over the silky wet flesh. It was like the inside of her cheek, but firmer and smoother.
“Mmmmm, yesss Leethie, that’s it. Lick me.”
Leethie put her tongue out flat and dragged it upwards. Felt a shock of power as that little lick made her whole body lurched and her breath caught, making her moan. All from a lick. She lowered her head and dragged her tongue up again.
“Oh god. Oh god.” Her voice was pinched and constricted. “Oh Jesus Leethie yesss!”
TSSSTSSS!
Leethie felt a great rush of pleasure soaking her, heating her from the inside out. She had never wanted to do anything as much as what she was doing now. Her tongue worked like a dog, lapping at her pussy as fast as she could. Hoping she could draw more cries and spasms of pleasure.
“Look at that smile, you love doing that!”
She was right, Leethie was smiling. As she licked she felt proud, proud of the pleasure she was giving, proud of the power she had, proud that she was pleasing her.
“Suck it,” she hissed, pulling at Leethie’s hair. “Suck it.”
Leethie’s lips were dragged upwards and she felt the hard little tip.
“Yessss,” she hissed. “Oh yessss. Suck that Leethie.”
TSSSTSSS!
Leethie pursed her lips and began to suck.
Now it was the high, unmistakable sound of her building pleasure. Leethie sucked harder, her lips making vulgar blubbery draws. Leethie didn’t care.
“I bet you’d eat my ass, wouldn’t you?”
The hands in Leethie’s hair pushed her downwards. She didn’t resist, she let her tongue be guided, past the wet heat it slid, until she felt the hard little knotted ring, dipping and smooth. She looked up through the steam at Miranda’s non-colored eyes, her beautiful face flush with ecstasy.
TSSSTSSS!
“Oh, Leethie!” Miranda called in her high and girlish voice. “I’m going to cum Leethie!”
These words spurred her on passing her tongue further down the crevice, she wanted this for them both, to push further, together.
“OH GOD PLEASE LEETHIE I’M CUMMING!”
Leethie awoke in the dark with Miranda’s voice ringing in her head. It was only then that it occurred to Leethie how deep and strange Miranda’s voice had been until that last moment. That it had been JeanMarie’s voice all along.
The room was stiflingly hot, she tried to remember where she was. Her mind, still half asleep, tried to orientate her within the sewing room, but everything was wrong. It stank, she stank.
“TSSSTSSS”
The sound came from the right side of the room at the foot of Leethie’s bed. She realized it was mechanical. She forced herself to sit up.
She was in her childhood room. The noise was the AC. She stood groggily, walked to the window, and shut it off. It had been pushing hot air. She stood for a minute looking out the window at the yard in the darkness, at her reflection in the glass. The acrid musky smell of her armpits clawed at her nose, nauseating her. The whole room stank of it. She thought of Bobbie rearing back at the smell, her look of surprise.
“I… you’re right,” she had told Leethie. “you smell… different.”
In a strange way, it had been a relief. The miasma of the stink had clung to Leethie as the last element of the awful nightmare. She had thought that, like the terror, it was all in her head, that she was going crazy. It was only after the long silent drive back to Sea Ranch, that the reality of the change was confirmed by Bobbie.
It had been weeks since she had had the nightmare, it hadn’t come back (a possibility that still terrified her), but the stink hadn’t gone away. It had lessened in intensity, Bobbie had reassured her before she left to drive home. Leethie hadn’t told her parents about the stink, and they hadn’t noticed it. She had told them almost nothing, just that something had happened and she and Miranda weren’t speaking. Their disappointment and frustration with her had morphed into an impatience.
“All’s fair in love and war,” her father had told her, but not sounding at all convinced and not quite looking her in the eye.
Leethie pulled at her night shirt. Her pits were stained and she smelled dank. She had decided she knew what the smell was, that it was the stink of fear, the stink of a cornered animal. She considered showering again, but was too tired and opted to just change shirts instead. Grabbing her pillow and sheet, she took them downstairs to the living room where the air was cool and curled up on the couch.
She thought about the dream and the sound of Miranda cumming. Remembered feeling of her dream self being between her thighs. Leethie was touching herself, she hadn’t shaved in weeks, the soft hair of her bush was damp. The smell of fear filling her nose. She was weeping.
“That was your father, they’re at the hotel. It sounds like everyone is there – including the Senator from Massachusetts.”
She recognized the teasing tone in her mother’s voice, but Leethie was distracted. She had been looking for clear adhesive gel pads, to protect her already injured heels from her new shoes, when she stumbled on her stash of Miranda-tapes. There were at least two dozen now. They had arrived one every few weeks, for almost a year before they stopped. Leethie stared at them. The love-worn tapes that traveled across the country and back with her, that she’d listened to so obsessively. Mixed in with them were the new tapes that Leethie had never listened to, but hadn’t had the heart to throw away. Tucked along one edge of the box was Miranda’s last note.
She touched it with a shaking finger, not needing to open it and look inside. She had memorized it, could see the fine script in her mind’s eye; the stabby little heart.
“Sending best wishes as you and Thom celebrate your engagement,” the card read. “I love you so. Yours always.” She thought of Miranda on the answering machine, asking “Leethie?” – of stumbling to catch the call, the click of the connection being lost – it had been the last time she had heard her voice.
“He must be set to lay an egg!” Leethie’s mother laughed behind her. She sounded nervous, her giddiness forced. Leethie looked down at her wrist, it had healed but still ached, the three vertical scars showed scarlet under her bracelets. She remembered her mother’s howl, her father lifting her out of the tub. She remembered the shock of waking up in the hospital. She remembered the way her heart had leapt when her mother told her she had a VERY special visitor waiting to see her.
Leethie squeezed her eyes shut, willed the tears away, calmed her heart and breathing. She looked up and saw Bobbie looking at her; worry in her eyes. Bobbie, who had taken her in her arms when she arrived unexpectedly and in tears. Bobbie, who had hushed and comforted her without asking why or pressing for details. Bobbie, who had taken her on walks and fielded the calls from her mother. Bobbie, her great guardian. Why had she ever left Sea Ranch? Why had she come back to Texas? She forced herself to smile at her Godmother.
“He’s like a schoolgirl,” Leethie told her mother, without looking away from Bobbie.
Her father had been so excited and nervous about meeting the senator, aka “Uncle Dicky,” it was practically all he had talked about for weeks. Leethie pushed the box back under the bed and pulled out another, still looking for the adhesive pads. She pictured her father in the hotel bar drinking whiskey with Dicky, and laughing at all his jokes. She forced herself to smile at her mother.
“I swear, it’s as if this was the whole reason he’s happy you’re getting married!” Her mother said in mock disapproval.
Leethie found the box of pharmacy junk she was looking for and began rooting through it.
“Well it’s going to be a long week if that’s all he’ll talk about,” Leethie admitted, pulling out the little gel pads.
“Hey, everyone is waiting. Are you ladies almost ready?”
Leethie looked up to see Thom in the doorway. He was in a blazer and tie, he’d shaved. His close-cropped hair shone with some sort of product.
“Oh, Thom, you look wonderful!” Leethie’s mother gushed. Leethie thought of his arrival shortly at the hospital, so obviously engineered with the help of her parents. How long had he been talking to them? She thought of his pursuit of her. She had given him nothing. Told him their game was over but he wouldn’t quit, still wouldn’t quit. Leethie fought back a black rage at the sight of him. She wanted to scream until there was nothing left. She saw Bobbie studying her. Leethie smiled. She watched herself getting up to hug him as if from great distance.
“Almost,” she lied.