Drifting

The following entertainment is for adults only, and anyone not an adult is hereby warned to go away.

All comments to the author will be greatly appreciated. Contact me at katherinet_@hotmail.com

Drifting

by Katherine T.

PART ONE

The Jaguar broke down half way between Albany and New York, a gray day, gray sky, smell of rain in the trees. And Beth thinking: Not here, not here in the middle of nowhere.

She sat behind the wheel in the parking lot of a windblown rest stop, people with tired faces wandering in and out of the squat restaurant like zombies. Were they alive? Oh damn, why here? Why here in the middle of nowhere? Where was it anyway? Served her right for not driving back on the Thruway. Was it some kind of trite retribution for the argument with Claire in Albany? Silly dyke spat, more looks than words. Traveling all the way to Albany to see Claire only to find Claire with someone else, Claire and another woman, Claire's bed occupied. Predictable, wasn't it? Claire in no time with another woman. All those hot fantasies during the long drive up to Albany and then finding Claire with another woman, Claire already with someone else, new secrets between them, the way they glanced at each other. Two days in Albany imagining Claire and the woman together, anger at Claire, anger at herself, anger at the world. The woman rolling her eyes as if to say, Listen, who invited you here, why don't you go home?

And now this.

It took an hour to get a tow-truck, but after that a mere ten minutes to have the Jaguar pulled into the nearest town. Milson Corners. What kind of name was that? Where were the corners? Definitely in the middle of nowhere; definitely not a place where a New York woman ought to be stranded on a Sunday afternoon. Make the best of it, she thought, remain calm, remain in control. She would call Rita and Rita would chuckle and say something nutty about how bad things always happen to people who leave New York, but don't worry, I can handle things alone until you get the car fixed.

The mechanic looked at Beth as the tow-truck winch eased the car down outside his tiny shop.

"What's the trouble, miss?"

A man about sixty with greasy clothes, like he'd been living in grease for sixty years, eating it, licking it off his fingers. Did he smoke Prince Albert in a corncob? Beth remembered an old uncle always in a cloud of tobacco.

"I don't know. It makes a horrible noise."

"Okay, we'll find out."

"How long will it take? I mean how long will it take to get it fixed and get me out of here?"

The old mechanic shrugged. Family in Hudson Valley since 1800. All those generations chewing on corncobs.

"Can't say yet. Depends on what's wrong. If it's a part that's hard to get, could be a day, two days."

Beth groaned. "Two days?"

"Could be. You got the keys?"

"They're in the car."

The mechanic walked over to the Jaguar, opened the door and climbed inside. In a moment Beth heard the horrible noise again, metal grinding against metal, the Jaguar croaking.

The mechanic called out: "Sounds like the starter motor is gone."

Beth called back: "How long will it take?"

"Could be more than two days."

Oh damn, Beth thought.

Suddenly, she noticed the painting, a glimpse of it through the grimy office window, reds, blues, burnt sienna. She stepped closer, peering inside. On the wall behind a counter cluttered with auto parts--a large square painting looking like a Braque.

Braque in Milson Corners? But it was not a Braque, it was something else, not Cubist, better than Cubist. Jumping. Startling.

The mechanic left the Jaguar and walked over to Beth and Beth said:

"Where did you get that?"

"Get what, miss?"

"That painting, the painting hanging in the office."

The old man chuckled. "Someone I know did that. Can't make it out myself. You got any idea what it is? What about the car now? What would you like to do with it? Could be we can't find a Jag starter motor except in Poughkeepsie. Pretty little car, but it ain't worth a damn when it falls apart."

"Can I go inside and look at the painting?"

The old man glanced down at her high-heeled sandals.

"Sure, do what you like. Look at all the pictures you want. But don't trip in there. I ain't had a chance to clean it out in some time."

He muttered to himself as he walked back to the Jaguar and raised the hood.

Beth opened the office door and stepped inside. Clean it out indeed. It would take a month to clean this pig-pen. The air smelling of stale beer and unwashed clothes. Piles of cartons, old newspapers, greasy rags. She walked over to the counter directly opposite the painting. Looking at it. Definitely something. Sharp figures of nude women painted over a Cubist-like background. An extremely competent painter; no, it was more than that: someone quite brilliant. A definite talent. The technique superb.

The office door opened and the old man came in.

"It's the starter motor, all right. Don't expect I'll find one anywhere near here, so I'll have to call Poughkeepsie. By the way, my name's Earl."

At that moment a shadow crossed the door, and the door opened again, and a woman entered. A tall lean woman, a strong appearance, with short dark hair and dark eyes that seemed to burn out of a sun-brown fine chiseled face.

The old man turned.

"Morning, Marlo. This young lady's been looking at your picture."

Later Beth would tell herself it was destiny, fate making her travel to Albany, fate making her drive the Taconic back instead of the Thruway, fate making the car break down, fate bringing her to this old mechanic to be here at the moment Marlo walked in. A woman called Marlo. What a name. What a woman. Beth was deeply aware of her own confusion. Totally swept away, her knees trembling as those burning dark eyes gazed at her. Like a stupid soap opera. Who the hell was she? That marvelous chiseled face.

Marlo looked away and said:

"Is that so?

Beth fumbled.

"Yes, I like it. I'm part manager of a gallery in New York and I'd like to see more of your work. I think--"

"I'm really not interested."

And, incredibly, Marlo turned and walked out, the door vibrating after she slammed it.

Beth stared at the door, then looked at the old mechanic. "Now what was that all about?"

Earl shrugged. "That's Marlo, all right. Ornery like her dead mother. Marlo's my niece, but I ain't so ornery, am I?" Then he snickered: "No one ever knows a damn about Marlo."

"I'd like to see her paintings."

"You can't see nothing if she don't show it to you, and it looks like today she ain't in a mood to show nothing to nobody."

"Maybe tomorrow."

Earl peered at her. "You figuring on staying awhile?"

"You said it would take a few days to fix the car."

"Yep, I did at that. I got to call Poughkeepsie."

"Is there a hotel in town?"

Earl snorted. "Hotel, hell. There ain't no hotel within thirty miles of here. But I could get you a room down the road at Ma Willow's, if you don't mind her neighbor."

"Her neighbor?"

"Ma's got one neighbor behind her near the creek. And that's Marlo, my niece."

Definitely Prince Albert.

Marlo sat in an old stuffed chair with her eyes on a girl named Lucy. The girl was blonde, not yet twenty, crazy in love with Marlo, wearing a navy skirt and a pale blue sweater tight enough to show her pointed little breasts.

Now Lucy tossed her long blonde hair and looked at Marlo.

"How should I pose today?"

And Marlo said: "I don't know yet. Just get your clothes off."

Lucy gave her a coy look. Striptease. Marlo was fond of the girl but it would not go anywhere. She would not let Lucy live with her no matter how much Lucy wanted it. Lucy would beg and Marlo would always resist. She would not let anyone live with her, had not let it happen in years and years. Not if living meant sleeping in the same bed every night, looking at and talking to the same woman day and night, day and night. Not Marlo. She knew the hells of monogamy. They wanted her; the women all wanted her; driven to her by the special charisma she had; but she would not take any of them permanently. And besides, Lucy was too young. The girl's parents were dead, but she lived with an aunt and uncle and Marlo wanted no more gossip in the valley, no whispering about how Lucy the drugstore cashier was living with that crazy painter woman near the creek. It was bad enough when people talked whenever Marlo drove Lucy around on her motorcycle.

Lucy said: "Something is wrong."

She was no fool; she knew Marlo's moods.

"Nothing is wrong."

Nothing wrong, nothing said. Marlo thought of the New York woman at Earl's, the woman with the expensive clothes and the sweet little body and high heels. Definitely hot for it. The way she had looked at Marlo had made it so obvious. An instant connection with their eyes. Marlo knowing them when they looked at her like that. Reading them. Thinking about working them.

Lucy pouted, continuing the slow removal of her clothes, gliding with extreme grace. Marlo appreciated the gracefulness of the girl and she watched her carefully. Lucy moved slowly, aware every moment that Marlo was watching her. She slipped the black flats off her feet. She peeled away the pale blue sweater and white bra to show her jiggling small breasts with pink nipples like gumdrops, each nipple pierced by a tiny gold ring. Marlo's rings. Marlo had wanted the girl's nipples pierced and Lucy had been happy to do whatever Marlo wanted. They'd gone to Albany for it; a date with a burned-out witch to get the rings in Lucy's tits. Now Lucy stalled, slowly folding the sweater and draping it over the back of a chair, standing in profile as she bent forward to show Marlo her dangling little ringed breasts that made Marlo's mouth water. Marlo wanted one in her mouth, her tongue flipping the ring. The girl gave a coy look to see if Marlo was still watching. Then Lucy's hands were at the skirt zipper, pulling it down, her breasts shaking as she dropped the skirt and stepped out of it.

Surprise. No tights today. Lucy had chosen her underthings to entice Marlo. Stockings with lace tops and a white garter belt, no panties to cover the blonde fluff at her crotch. The stockings were new and Marlo had never seen them before. She'd given Lucy the garter belt some time ago, but the girl had always worn it with the stockings bought for her by Marlo, and then only when Marlo told her to dress that way.

Marlo said: "Where did you get the stockings?"

Lucy gave her a coy smile. "I ordered them out of a catalog."

As Lucy turned her back a moment, the girl's buttocks were like a pair of smooth beach balls kissing each other between the straps of the garter belt. She looked lovely, irresistible. Marlo felt the tightening in her belly, her clit coming to attention, rising awake and standing tall. Never mind the work she'd planned, the hunger was too sharp.

"Come here."

Lucy came to her with a smile of victory. The girl sauntered on her stocking feet, the beige stockings with lace tops glistening in a patch of light from the window. She came to Marlo, stood before her with her pelvis thrust forward.

"Do you like the stockings?"

"Yes, they're pretty. I'll get you some more the next time I'm in Poughkeepsie. Didn't I give you one pair with lace tops?"

Lucy pouted. "They got a run. So when I found the catalog in the store, I ordered these with a money order. I knew you'd like them."

Marlo smiled and kissed her. Then she stared at the blonde thatch, the full mound so surprising because everything else about the girl seemed unripe. She was almost like a boy. Lucy's face was too thin and angular to be beautiful, but the sweetness was there. And the eagerness. Marlo reached up to pinch a pink nipple, tugging at the gold ring and then pushing at Lucy's hip to make the girl turn around.

Lucy gave her another hot look as she turned to show her compact little buttocks. She knew what Marlo wanted. After shifting her legs apart, she bent forward a bit to offer herself, to show herself from the rear, to show the gold ring piercing the right lip, this ring larger than the others, maybe the diameter of a quarter. This was also Marlo's ring, the piercing done about a month after Lucy's nipples were pierced, but Lucy's idea really. Lucy had come to her and said she wanted it, begged for it, said she wanted to feel she totally belonged to Marlo. She'd said: I do belong to you, don't I, Marlo?

God, I love her, Marlo thought. She passed her fingers over a round buttock, her fingertips gliding on the smooth skin, just a tickling touch, first one globe and then the other. Then she moved her hand between Lucy's thighs and took her, getting inside quickly, no preliminaries, two fingers sliding into the drenched cunt and then her thumb working into the girl's tight anus.

Lucy groaned. She had already lubricated her back opening in the bathroom. That was something Marlo had taught her: always be prepared. Lucy groaned again, squirming her rear portal on Marlo's thumb, shaking her hips, shuddering from head to toe as the fingers worked in and out of both openings. The girl came quickly, her sweetness raining on Marlo's palm as she cried out and called Marlo's name, shaking again when Marlo finally pulled her fingers away and pinched her clit, shaking through a second orgasm.

No dallying today. A tie on the nearby table. A black leather tie. Marlo reached for it, then quickly tied the girl's hands behind her back.

"Hold still," Marlo whispered, her tongue licking at Lucy's ear.

Lucy moaned as Marlo securely tied her wrists together, her wrists crossed at the small of her back. The girl dropped now, kneeling with her head and shoulders on the floor, her knees wide apart and her buttocks raised. She adored giving herself to Marlo this way, bent over like a bitch-dog in heat, her pink sex open and vulnerable, her most intimate parts ready for whatever Marlo wanted.

Marlo gazed at the ripe little fig, pink and open, dripping sugar syrup on the insides of the young thighs. She bent forward and touched Lucy's anus with her thumb again, Lucy whimpering as the finger widened the opening and slipped inside.

"You're wide open."

"Always for you, Marlo."

"You want more?"

"Please, Marlo!

"Wiggle it. Wiggle it on my thumb."

Lucy churned her hips, rolling her ass, her anus gripping Marlo's thumb as the other fingers of Marlo's hand remained on the outside of her wet cunt.

Marlo suddenly pulled her hand away and rose.

"Don't move."

Lucy remained where she was, remained kneeling on the carpet as Marlo walked out of the room.

Silence. Somewhere outside an owl hooted in a tree.

Marlo returned without clothes, below her waist a dildo, a black strap-on dildo that bobbed up and down as she approached Lucy. The girl looked at it, her eyes hotter than ever because getting fucked by Marlo's cock was something special, a gift from Marlo, an ecstasy.

Marlo held her hand out to Lucy and had her rise. She led the girl to the stuffed chair she'd been sitting on previously and she had Lucy kneel on it with her head draped over the back and her ass facing Marlo. The girl's hands were still tied. The height was perfect, and without dawdling, Marlo moved in and used her hand to guide the round knob of the dildo to Lucy's anus.

Lucy groaned as it went in. She relaxed and opened herself. A half hour ago, she had lubricated herself carefully with the hope Marlo would take her this way. They had done it often enough and she knew how to take it. She spread her knees further apart on the chair cushion and groaned again as she felt Marlo's hands grasp her buttocks. Having her arms behind her back in this position was a bit painful now, but she gloried in her submission to Marlo.

"Easy, girl."

"Oh Marlo."

"Feel good?"

"I love you, Marlo."

"Say it again."

"I love you, Marlo."

"And I love you too."

Marlo started fucking her slowly, watching the black shaft as it slid in out of the girl's stretched anus, the hole like a round mouth sucking on the black cylinder. She slid a hand under the dildo to find Lucy's cunt, pushed three fingers inside the girl's elastic vagina and worked them as she continued thrusting. When her smallest finger found Lucy's clitoris and started strumming it, Lucy began a continuous moaning.

The girl trembled as she came. Marlo kept at it until Lucy had another orgasm, and then finally she pulled out and made Lucy turn around.

"Go on, get it in your mouth," Marlo said, her voice coaxing.

With a soft cry, her hands still tied behind her back, Lucy lurched her face against Marlo's belly to get her mouth on Marlo's black cock.

Marlo stroked Lucy's hair, a tender stroking of the blonde head. Sometimes she loved Lucy so much it made her chest hurt. I could cry, Marlo thought. She caught a loose wisp of blonde hair and curled it behind Lucy's ear.

I could really cry, Marlo thought.

Marlo twelve years ago at Syracuse University. She stands outside the library, tall, thin, a white sweater, gray slacks, dark hair cropped short like a boy in a Ralph Lauren ad. She avoids looking at anyone, no eye contact, no interest as she turns away to walk along a path between two rows of trees.

Fifteen minutes later, she's in the living room of a small house near the stadium. Paula Wakeman, middle forties, an Art History professor, brown hair, brown eyes, a round cherubic face, has just entered with two glasses of iced tea.

"You look lovely," Paula says. "You always look lovely."

Paula feels drab when she's near Marlo, hypnotized by Marlo's sleek boy-look. Today the boy-look is more emphatic than usual: Marlo is a breathtaking vision. Paula asks about Marlo's day. Has she had lunch? "You mustn't starve yourself. You're still young, you're growing, you need the nutrients. Let me take you to dinner this evening."

Marlo shakes her head. "No, not this evening. I can't."

Paula flushes in her disappointment. She moves closer to Marlo, puts her tea down and leans forward to kiss Marlo's cheek. "I'll make you a sandwich."

"No, I'm not hungry."

"But you need to eat something."

"I'm fine, really."

"What are you doing this evening?"

"I told you I have plans."

"Yes, but what? Can't you tell me?"

"There's a group meeting to study for an exam."

"Which exam?"

"Western Civilization."

"You could study with me. I could help you."

Marlo says nothing.

Paula leans forward again, this time kissing closer to Marlo's mouth.

Casually, as though it's an afterthought, Marlo brushes her fingers over the front of Paula's blouse, over one of the large breasts thrusting at the fabric.

Paula shudders as she feels the touching. "Yes, darling. Oh yes."

Eager to get things started, Paula quickly unbuttons her blouse and unsnaps her heavy-duty front-closing bra. She brings out a large breast, one hand supporting the globe as she offers it to Marlo. "Here, my love."

Marlo gazes down at Paula's ripeness, at the formidable nipple already showing signs of tumescence. It was Paula's breasts that intrigued her from the beginning, these motherly pillows that are still a novelty to Marlo because she has never been with a woman like Paula.

Her voice quavering, Paula says: "Kiss me, darling."

And Marlo kisses her, takes Paula's mouth with her own while she holds the heavy breast with her hand. She slides the other hand down Paula's back and over the lavish curves of Paula's ass.

Paula groans as she feels Marlo's hands. "You make me feel so wanton." She pulls back, her expression simpering, her face flushed with excitement. "Don't you want to stay with me this evening?"

Marlo shakes her head. "I told you I can't."

Pouting, Paula frees both breasts and supports them with her hands, looking down at them, gazing at her prize possessions. "You like these, don't you?"

"Yes."

Marlo feels a flash of renewed interest. The affair is only a month old and Paula's lush body still excites Marlo intensely. And the way Paula so easily assumes a sluttish attitude. The slutty professor holding her tits like a chorus girl.

Paula laughs, her hands making her breasts roll. "Oh yes, you want them, don't you?"

Marlo imagines the members of the Arts Faculty fainting away one after the other at the sight of Paula with those big breasts in her hands. Professor Paula Wakeman is already lifting her wool skirt to show her thighs to an audience of one. Marlo bends forward to take one of the nipples in her mouth, one hand sliding between Paula's legs to find the wet evidence of Paula's excitement.

Paula sighs as she cradles Marlo's head. She strokes Marlo's hair, thrilled at the short boyish haircut.

"You're not happy," Paula says.

Marlo sucks the generous breast without replying. But it's true. She's not happy. She has no idea why she's not happy, and she has a great fear the unhappiness will last forever.

All my life, Marlo thinks. I'll be unhappy all my life.

Beth stood in a dingy room in Ma Willow's frame house. The room had a musty smell, old white curtains, one window that looked out at the back of the house and at the ground sloping down to the creek. She could just make out a barn-like place through the trees, and she knew that had to be Marlo's house. She felt the flush in her face as she remembered Marlo's eyes. I'll go now, she thought; why not go now and see her and get it over with? There was no reason to put it off, was there?

At that moment she saw a girl between the trees, a slender young girl wearing a sweater and skirt, the girl hurrying away from Marlo's house.

Beth watched the girl climbing the slope and suddenly she knew instinctively the girl had been with Marlo. The blonde girl was Marlo's lover, wasn't she? Yes, it had to be. Beth felt a sharp sense of loss as she remembered Marlo's spectacular face, the high cheekbones. You're stupid, Beth thought; the woman doesn't know you, so why should the woman care? What made her think she could have a woman like that?

The blonde girl passed close to Ma Willow's house and then abruptly vanished from view.

Beth decided to go to Marlo anyway. She did want to see whatever paintings Marlo had. She reasoned the visit was appropriate---she had already told Marlo she was interested in her work. She decided to ignore Marlo's rudeness at the mechanic's shop. Marlo was an artist and artists were always temperamental, weren't they? Beth knew a number of them in New York who were almost totally crazy. Artists needed understanding, especially the painters who were the craziest of the lot. This one had certainly rattled her because the last thing in the world she had expected was to find such an exquisite woman stuck in a place like Milson Corners.

She changed her clothes first. She put on a sweater and jeans and tennis shoes, and then she left Ma Willow's and she walked down the slope to the barn-like house where Marlo lived.

After Beth knocked on the front door, a long time passed before anything happened. Finally she heard footsteps, and then the door opened and Marlo stood there gazing at her with those dark haunted eyes.

"Yes?"

"I hope you don't mind. Since I'm staying over there at Ma Willow's house, I thought I might..."

Beth broke off; she felt foolish.

Marlo said: "Thought you might what?"

"I thought I might get to see more of your work."

Marlo said nothing for a long moment, her eyes drifting up and down as she studied Beth from head to toe.

"I like you better in heels."

Beth felt herself blushing. "Do I get to see any paintings?"

"Not now. I'm working now. Come by tomorrow at noon and we'll see."

Marlo's eyes suddenly turned vague.

Beth nodded, and a moment later the door closed.

That face, Beth thought. She felt small and defenseless, aware of the erratic beat of her heart, her mind flooded with uncertainty and fascination. And something else too. A strange sense of foreboding.

Beth eight years ago at Smith College. She's twenty years old, blonde, bronzed by the sun, now lying naked on a bed in her dorm room while she watches her roommate Allie dry her hair after a shower. Allie is athletic, quick-tempered, with muscled arms and thighs and close-cropped dark hair. She holds a large white towel wrapped around her body. Thirty minutes ago they made love on Beth's bed, sweating as they grasped at each other, turning over and over on the bed, Beth groaning as Allie's knowing fingers stroked orgasm after orgasm out of her writhing body.

Allie now puts the hair dryer down, the noise of the machine suddenly absent, and she turns and looks at Beth. After a long moment, Allie says: "You're too uncertain."

Beth rolls over on her back and covers her eyes with her forearm. "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes you act like you're not into it, like you're not sure about being gay. Or maybe you don't like me enough."

"You know that's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"Allie, I've told you so many times I'm in love with you."

"Then what is it?"

"If you want to know, the fact is I don't like the idea of you seeing anyone else."

Allie hisses through her teeth. "Christ, we talked about that at the beginning. Didn't we talk about that?"

"Yes, I know what I said. But now I don't think I can cope with it."

"Oh shit."

Turning her head, Beth looks at her. "I don't know what to do."

"You know I'm not into exclusive relationships."

Beth stares at the ceiling. "I want to belong to someone."

Allie walks to Beth's bed and she sits down on the edge of the mattress and leans forward to kiss Beth's forehead. "You belong to me. We're together, aren't we?" She runs her fingers over Beth's breasts and then slides her hand between Beth's thighs to cup Beth's cunt. "Open up to Allie, sweets. Don't you want to?"

Beth groans and spreads her legs apart. "Yes."

The paintings were spectacular.

Shortly after lunch the next day, Beth stood in Marlo's studio before an array of canvases that took her breath away.

Beth said: "I'm overwhelmed."

She wore a white tank top, a denim skirt, and white sandals with high heels. The shoes had been carried down the slope in her hands. She'd been dubious about the heels, had told herself she was silly, but after she'd arrived she'd seen the interest in Marlo's eyes and she wasn't sorry.

Marlo leaned against the wall near a French window that led to a sundeck, her thumbs hooked inside her belt, her eyes on Beth.

Marlo said: "What do you like?"

"I like everything. All these paintings are marvelous. Why haven't you brought them to New York?"

Marlo shrugged. "I don't like New York. It's too phony."

They looked at each other, and Beth said: "Do you have any more?"

"A few. Some portraits."

"May I see them?"

"Over here."

Marlo gestured toward the other end of the large room. They walked beside each other, Beth feeling small next to Marlo's height, even in her heels. And then suddenly, before they reached the stack of canvases facing a wall, Beth stumbled on a stretcher bar, cried out as she started falling, and then gasped with relief as Marlo's strong hands gripped her waist and prevented her collapse.

Still holding her, Marlo grumbled: "My fault. The floor's a mess."

Acutely aware she was in Marlo's arms, Beth trembled. "I'm clumsy."

"You're wearing heels."

And wearing them, of course, because of that remark Marlo had made the day before. Beth wondered if Marlo understood. She felt helpless with this woman, completely thunderstruck.

Their eyes locked, Marlo gazing down at her, still gripping Beth's waist with her hands, and then finally Marlo bent her head and Beth shuddered as Marlo kissed her.

Beth felt her head spin. Her senses were filled with the taste of Marlo's mouth, the feel of Marlo's body pressing against hers, the grip of Marlo's hands on her waist. Her arms instinctively shifted around Marlo's shoulders, her hands sliding over Marlo's back.

Marlo's lips at last left Beth's and moved to the side of Beth's neck. Beth groaned as she felt the warm lips and then Marlo's hands tugging at her tank top, pulling the white top down far enough to expose her breasts.

Her hands again holding Beth's waist, Marlo leaned back and gazed down.

"Nice."

Beth's nipples were stiff, pointed with her excitement.

Beth struggled. "Please, I don't---"

"No?"

Hardly touching her, Marlo ran her fingertips over the contours of Beth's breasts as Beth shut her eyes and trembled. Beth felt the fingers close on her nipples, pinching, exploring, tugging at her flesh.

Marlo spoke in a low voice: "Pose for me. I'd like to paint you."

Beth opened her eyes. "Now?"

"Yes, now."

Beth tried to hide her disappointment. Paint her now?

Marlo pulled at her hand to lead her to the part of the studio she used for painting.

As reluctant as Beth was to have this sudden intimacy with a woman she hardly knew, she also yearned for Marlo to take her to bed. She was captivated by Marlo; she wanted her desperately. But Marlo seemed to have nothing more on her mind than her work. Beth suddenly felt foolish. But when she tried to restore her appearance and cover her breasts with her tank top, Marlo pulled her hands away.

"No, stay like that. That's how I want to paint you. Do you mind?"

Beth surrendered. It was all so sudden, so bizarre, nothing seemed impossible. "No, I don't mind."

"Maybe you ought to take the top off altogether. Here, I'll help you."

Beth was amazed at herself, startled at how rapidly things had changed between them. One kiss, and now here she was stripped to the waist like a harem girl. I'm blushing, she thought. She would rather be on a bed making love, but the heat in Marlo's dark eyes as Marlo studied her breasts was enough. She had good breasts; everyone always told her she had good breasts, full and round, and the nipples like thick studs when erected. Like now.

As Marlo posed her, making her seat herself on a high stool with one foot on the floor and the other on a rung, Beth said:

"I feel awkward."

"You don't look awkward, you look beautiful. Pull your shoulders back a bit. Yes, like that. That's good. Lovely tits."

Beth blushed. "Marlo, please..."

"Yes?"

"Don't paint me now."

"Why not?"

"I---oh God."

"Tell me."

"I want you to make love to me."

Marlo chuckled softly, not looking at Beth as she continued to swirl a brush in a jar. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You don't know anything about me. I may be too much for you."

Marlo looked at her now, and Beth tried to read her face. "In what way?"

The tall woman shrugged. "Sometimes I demand a lot. Things you maybe hardly know about."

Beth felt her nipples tingling. "I'm not a child."

Marlo smirked. "No, you're not, are you? All right, get the rest of your clothes off. Everything but the shoes."

Yes of course, everything but the shoes. It was more an order than a request. If she thought she'd get romance, she was mistaken. Did she want romance? Whatever it was that was happening, it thrilled her completely. She saw the dark eyes burning at her again, and she trembled as she rose from the stool to unbuckle her belt and step out of her denim skirt. Under the skirt she wore no stockings, only white nylon panties, and with her face flushed she quickly peeled the panties away and put them on top of the skirt on the stool.

When she looked at Marlo again, Marlo made a gesture with her hand. "Turn."

As gracefully as she knew how, Beth did a turn to show her body from all sides. Did her belly slope too much? And her buttocks? Was her ass firm enough?

"I feel awkward again."

"You don't need to. You're lovely."

"Oh Marlo, I---"

"Don't talk."

"Then what?"

"Come here."

Beth went to her, carefully crossing the floor on her high heels to where Marlo leaned against another high wooden stool. When Beth reached Marlo, the dark-eyed woman took hold of Beth's breasts and gently pulled them out from Beth's chest.

Beth flushed and moaned, her eyes on Marlo's hands, her legs trembling as she realized how much she wanted it, how much she wanted to be completely dominated by this startling woman. Her cunt throbbed. In Milson Corners. Of all places in the world, this had to happen in Milson Corners.

"What do you want?" Marlo said softly.

"I want you to make love to me."

"No, I won't do that."

Beth's heart sank. She stared at Marlo. "Why not?"

"I'll fuck you, but I won't make love to you. We don't know each well enough for love."

Beth quivered. "Please..."

"What?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want it?"

"Yes."

Holding Beth's right breast in her left hand, Marlo brought her right hand up to Beth's face and pushed her fingers at Beth's mouth.

"Take my fingers."

Beth shuddered. Was it really happening? She felt so helpless with this woman, her mind whirling with her need to have Marlo ravish her. Yes! she thought. She opened her mouth to have it stuffed with Marlo's fingers. Marlo bunched three fingers together and slowly slid them in and out of Beth's open mouth.

"Get them wet," Marlo said, her voice tender now, almost a whisper.

Beth sucked the long fingers, moving her head back and forth, wetting the fingers with her saliva. As Beth did this, Marlo dropped her left hand from Beth's breast and slid it around Beth's hip to find and squeeze one of her buttocks. Beth closed her eyes as she felt Marlo's hand slide into the crack of her ass, the fingers of the hand now finding her cunt from the rear, not penetrating, only exploring, the hand feeling huge as it pressed her cheeks apart.

Marlo abruptly pulled her wet fingers out of Beth's mouth and said: "Turn around."

Beth stared at her, feeling the hot flush in her face. She could not refuse. She was too excited, too overcome with an intense desire to submit. She turned and stood with her back to Marlo, yielding and shifting her legs apart as she felt Marlo's hand slide between her thighs.

She groaned as she hand possessed her. She wanted more, but she was afraid to ask.

Marlo gazed at the woman she had before her. She felt a great passion as she gazed down at Beth's proffered ass. Yesterday she'd had Lucy almost exactly the same way. But this was different. Beth was lush, mature, her femininity fully developed. Marlo found the wet vagina with her thumb and entered it without delay, her middle finger locating Beth's stiff clit and stroking it. Then she pulled her thumb out and replaced it with the three fingers Beth had sucked earlier.

Beth moaned as she felt Marlo's fingers push inside her cunt, the strong digits filling her, stretching her passage. Anonymous sex, she thought. Nothing but a sharp lust that consumed her. Is this what you want? All she was certain of was an intense desire to please Marlo. That and the need to have that hand do more.

Marlo's hand moved, her fingers expertly fucking the open cunt.

Beth's orgasm started building immediately. She gasped and made a plaintive sound as she felt Marlo's thumb penetrate her anus as she started coming.

"Please, no! I don't want that!"

Marlo kept her thumb in place. "If you're not happy, you can put your clothes on and leave. Is that what you want?"

Beth groaned. "No."

"Then stop complaining". Marlo pulled Beth backward until she had Beth leaning against her, fingers in Beth's cunt and her thumb in Beth's ass. "Go on, baby, let go."

Beth cried out as her cunt exploded. Marlo held her as the orgasm racked her body from head to toe, held her and kissed her neck as she gently brought Beth down with her stroking fingers, her fingers sliding, sliding until Beth finished.

At the end Beth rebelled, twisting away and almost stumbling on her high heels. "I hated that."

"No, you didn't, you loved it."

"I hated it!"

Marlo glared at her. "Put your clothes on and get out."

Beth was stunned. "I---"

"Go on, bitch, get out."

The tall woman walked away. Beth shuddered as she watched her, her skin suddenly cold. Her legs trembling, she hurried to gather her clothes.

PART TWO

For three years now, Rita had been living with a woman named Jul in Rita's West Village townhouse. Jul taught History and French in an Upper West Side high school. She'd been born in France, and even after twenty years in New York she still had a slight French accent. She was dark-haired like Rita, with a quiet strength obvious to anyone who looked at her, an angular intelligent face and sharp hazel eyes. At work Jul dressed in suits and skirts and black low-heeled pumps. Away from the high school, Jul favored boots and jeans and leather vests over blue shirts. Rita liked to dress up when they went out, and when she wore high heels she was considerably taller than Jul because Jul was shorter than Rita and Jul's cowboy boots had only clunky low heels. Rita was a full-fleshed woman, with large breasts and wide hips and plump calves. She adored Jul because Jul was the first woman with whom she felt totally comfortable. All the others had made trouble because it was Rita's money that paid for the townhouse and Rita's money that paid for the other luxuries. Jul didn't seem to care one way or the other where the money came from. All she seemed to care about was Rita, making her happy, looking after her, and making her come with thunderous orgasms that shook the bed and rattled the porcelain figurines on the mantel behind the headboard.

"No one makes you come like I do," Jul said.

"No one," Rita agreed.

They were in bed, Jul half-lying on top of Rita, a Sunday morning political talk show on the TV screen with the sound switched off, the faces on the screen, one after the other, yammering silently as Jul continued to gently move her fingers in Rita's cunt.

Jul slowly withdrew her fingers. "Would you like some coffee?"

"I'd love it."

When Jul returned from the kitchen with their coffee, Rita said: "Something's bothering Beth."

"Something's always bothering Beth."

"No, this is serious. I think she's in love with someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Ever since she returned from upstate she's been walking around in a daze."

Jul snorted and said nothing. She wanted to tell Rita that Beth was always in a daze, but she knew Rita liked Beth and she said nothing. Rita and Beth, in fact, had once been lovers, but only for a short time. Jul was certain she had nothing to worry about from that quarter. Not from Beth. Rita needed someone like Jul, not someone like Beth. Jul felt possessive about Rita even though she herself was not faithful. Jul liked variety in her sex life, and whenever the opportunity offered itself and she could do it secretly, she would see other women. Her attitude was that as long as Rita knew nothing about it, what was the harm?

Unwilling to talk any more about Beth, Jul slid down on the bed and rested her face on Rita's belly. She started teasing Rita's pussy as Rita sipped her coffee.

"You're going to wear me out," Rita said with affection.

"I haven't yet."

"No, you haven't."

As if to affirm it, Rita opened her legs in obvious invitation. Jul snickered with approval against Rita's cunt, but instead of diving in and sucking her the way she knew Rita wanted her to, Jul merely toyed with Rita's lush garden. She teased the long lips, carefully tugging them out and arranging them like a pair of red wings on either side. She tickled the shaft of Rita's prominent clitoris and watched the jerking of the pink pearl.

"Don't be mean," Rita said, sighing as she put the coffee cup away and opened her legs further. She pushed firmly at Jul's head, and then she groaned as she felt Jul's tongue finally start licking her. As Jul slid down on the bed and arranged herself between Rita's legs, Rita raised her knees and then spread them as wide as possible, each knee almost touching the mattress, her wide apart folded legs like a huge open oyster.

And at the center of the oyster was Rita's pearl.

Holding Rita's cunt open with her fingers, Jul tickled the entrance with her tongue. Rita was running like a brook again, the plentiful sap seeping out of her to flow over Jul's tongue in a thick stream. She lapped it up, loving the smell and taste of it, her nose rubbing Rita's clit from side to side.

"Oh, that's lovely," Rita groaned. "Just keep doing me like that."

Rita sixteen years ago in Paris. Twenty years old and determined to be cosmopolitan. Her college friend, a nervous little blonde named Mary, has returned home to Ohio after a spat about Rita's unwillingness to be economical. I never liked her, Rita thinks; I never liked her anyway. She's happy to be alone. She loves Paris. Now she's sitting on the terrace of a cafe on the Boulevard Haussmann. The people are so interesting. Sophisticated. Glamorous. The clothes they wear so perfect for them. That woman. Rita fixes her eyes on a brunette, dark eyes, aristocratic bones, a simple black sweater set off by a single strand of pearls. The woman is maybe forty, perfect makeup, hair in a chignon. Exquisite, Rita thinks; such an exquisite presence. Now the woman turns her head. Their eyes meet. An appraisal. Then a turning away. Only a few moments later, the woman looks at Rita again. A slight questioning smile as she finds Rita is still staring at her.

An hour later, Rita holds a glass of champagne in an elegant house on the Ile St. Louis. Sylvie, known formally as Madame Duclos, smiles at Rita and says: "It's much too hot to sit in the garden. You don't mind, do you?" She speaks English with an accent half British and half French. How charming.

Rita doesn't mind at all. Anywhere will do. Sylvie had earlier invited Rita to sit in her garden, but now that Rita was in the house she was too overwhelmed with its elegance to care about trifles. Every stick of furniture looks like an antique!

Sylvie's husband, referred to as "Bernard" by Sylvie, is evidently in Rome on business. Rita wonders if these people are royalty. Sylvie could be a countess. A woman with a fabulous presence, an awesome aura. But even so, Rita isn't naive enough not to understand the essence of things. She knows what Sylvie wants. Little Rita has been around the track enough times to know exactly what Sylvie wants. So when Sylvie pours more champagne, then hands the glass to Rita and follows that by stroking the backs of her fingers across Rita's cheek, Rita blushes, smiles, and accepts the caress.

Later, in Sylvie's pink boudoir (more antiques!), Rita accepts everything. She lies sprawled on the four-poster bed as Sylvie undresses her. She folds her knees back at a hint from Sylvie, and then she gasps as she feels Sylvie's mouth claim her wetness.

Rita gazes up at the canopy of the four-poster bed. An adventure in Paris, she thinks. This alone is worth the price of the plane ticket. With a groan, she gently closes her thighs around Sylvie's head.

Bobo said: "You want a beer, Marlo? There's cold beer in the fridge."

Bobo was a big, brawny woman in a white shirt, jeans, and sneakers. She ran a ski lift in winter, and in summer she drove a truck delivering gravel to anyone who wanted it. She had a house in Reston, a town ten miles north of Milson Corners, and with her in the house she had a wife called Millie. Today, when Marlo visited, there was a third woman there, a nervous creature named Cheryl, already known to Marlo, thirty-five maybe, tender eyes and soft breasts under a frilly blouse.

Cheryl was nervous because she was married, had a husband and family in a neighboring town, and she would just die if anyone she didn't trust discovered her with Bobo.

Marlo had never paid much attention to Cheryl, no more than an occasional glance at the movements of her breasts, and she was not paying much attention now. She found a beer in the frig and returned to the cluttered living room where Millie was serving cold baloney and cheese on paper platters.

"Eat something," Bobo said to Marlo. "You won't get fat eating baloney."

Marlo shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Then play with Cheryl." Bobo waved her arm at Cheryl. "Cheryl, honey, you're always telling me how much you like Marlo. Well, there she is. Go sit on her lap."

Cheryl blushed, the order putting her in a quandary because she always did what Bobo told her to do and yet she was too shy to be forward with Marlo.

"Go on," Bobo ordered. "Marlo won't bite you, unless it's in the right place." Bobo laughed, her huge breasts shaking under her shirt.

Cheryl walked over to Marlo. But instead of sitting on Marlo's lap, she sat next to Marlo on the sofa. When Cheryl leaned forward, the low neckline of her loose blouse showed the valley between her soft breasts.

Marlo looked at Bobo. "I may be driving down to New York next week. You need anything?"

Bobo shrugged. "Yeah. Have a look at my sister."

Bobo had a sister in Brooklyn. In a wheelchair.

"Sure," Marlo said.

When Millie finished in the kitchen, she returned to Bobo, and Bobo took Millie on her lap. The sun was down, the room getting dark, but Bobo said the dark was better than the bugs and they could wait awhile for the lamp. So they sat that way in the growing darkness.

Bobo told Marlo she could have Cheryl if she wanted her. "Just while you're here."

Marlo chuckled. "Maybe she'll come home with me," she teased.

"The hell she will," Bobo said. "Go on, take her. She's dying for it. Millie and me, we'll watch."

Marlo hadn't come to Bobo's for sex, but it was never easy to refuse Bobo anything. What Cheryl wanted didn't matter, because Cheryl was more or less Bobo's slave and she would do whatever Bobo wanted her to do.

Bobo urged Marlo to get on with it. She had Millie cuddled in her lap as she told Marlo how much Cheryl talked about Marlo. "She's nuts about you," Bobo said.

Marlo was amused. Maybe it would be good to get distracted, stop thinking about that New York girl. For the past week she hadn't thought about anything except Beth. Marlo now felt she'd been crazy to let Beth get away like that. She looked at Cheryl and slowly pulled out the neckline of Cheryl's blouse to expose more of Cheryl's breasts. Even in the darkness, she could see Cheryl's beauties.

"Cheryl!" Bobo boomed.

Cheryl trembled. "Yes?"

"You do what I say, don't you?"

"You know that, Bobo."

"Turn on one of the lamps and get your clothes off. Come on, honey, move it."

Nervous, Cheryl looked at the windows. "I'll pull the shades."

"The hell with the shades, we're in the woods. Nothing out there except hoot owls."

They all blinked in the light when Cheryl switched on one of the lamps. Bobo sent Millie to get some music on the stereo and bring some cold beer. "Christ, I feel like a party," Bobo said. "Come on, Cheryl, get stripped."

Millie brought the beer, and after that Cheryl stripped to the waist and danced for them. She had done if for Bobo before, but with the window shades up she found it a little frightening. And more exciting than usual because Marlo was there. She kept her eyes on Marlo as she danced, her breasts in her hands, her torso bucking and weaving.

"I told you she's good," Bobo said, meaning Cheryl, or maybe she meant Millie. Bobo had her cock out, and Millie was squatting over her lap to take it. Marlo felt the rising heat in her belly as she watched Bobo swallow half a breast as Millie sat down on her dildo. "Good girl," Bobo said.

Everything was visible, Millie's ass, the cock spearing her spread labia, Bobo's meaty hands clutching at Millie's buttocks. Cheryl continued dancing, and Marlo's eyes moved from one part of the room to the other as she watched it all.

I don't know what I want, Marlo thought. Oh yes, she did know. She wanted Beth. None of this meant anything, because what she really wanted was Beth.

Jul did not believe in monogamy. As much as she loved Rita, Jul found it impossible to restrict her sex life to one woman. Because she knew Rita would be enraged if she ever discovered her adventures with other women, Jul kept all her liaisons a dark secret, even from her good friends. Fortunately, there were enough lesbian women in New York to make such a secret life possible.

One afternoon, Jul left the school where she worked and she rode a taxi to Fifth Avenue to do some shopping in a department store. As she looked through a rack of blouses, she noticed a saleswoman busy at a rack not too far away. The woman was blonde and busty, with cropped hair and bangs, and large colorful earrings. She was maybe fifty, with a look of energetic efficiency that Jul always found attractive in a woman. When their eyes met, when they gazed a long moment at each other, Jul realized the woman was a dyke.

Jul was immediately interested. Those heavy breasts. She imagined herself sucking the fat nipples. She felt a flush of desire as she thought of herself and the woman together. She turned away to look for another blouse to try on in the dressing room, and then suddenly she heard a feminine voice close by at her side.

"Can I help you?" the saleswoman said.

Surprised, Jul quickly recovered and nodded. "I thought I'd try these on. What about this one? I don't know the label."

They chatted casually about clothes awhile, the saleswoman helping Jul select two more blouses, and then Jul went off to the dressing room to try them on.

While Jul was in the dressing room wearing one of the new blouses, the saleswoman popped her head in to ask if Jul needed any help.

Jul said: "Do you have this one in black?"

"Yes, I think so. I'll bring it."

When the saleswoman returned, she found Jul stripped to the waist, Jul without a stitch above her skirt as she waited for the new blouse.

The blonde woman's eyes were hot as they raked over Jul's insignificant breasts and strong shoulders, but the blonde retained her composure. "Here, I think this will be perfect on you. I'm sorry I broke in."

"No, stay."

Their eyes met, and with a slight smile the saleswoman stepped into the room and pulled the curtain behind her. "Let me help you with the blouse."

As the saleswoman unbuttoned the blouse on the hanger, Jul stood facing the mirror with her dark little nipples like two turrets pointing forward.

Jul said: "I'm sorry, but I don't like bras."

The saleswoman's looked at Jul, her eyes flicking over Jul's compact breasts. "I don't mind. Are you an athlete?"

"An athlete? No, I'm not, I'm a school teacher."

"You look very athletic."

"I work out at a gym club."

"It shows. All those muscles."

"Mmm."

As the saleswoman helped Jul slip into the blouse, their bodies touched for the first time.

"My name is Sally," the blonde said.

Jul met her eyes in the mirror. "I'm Jul. And you know what?"

"What?"

"I'd like to ball you."

Always the confident butch. You get nothing unless you try for it, Jul thought.

A long moment of silence, their eyes locked. And then Sally said: "I'm off on Thursday."

Jul eleven years ago in a bar in the West Village. She's dancing with a girl named Michelle, a girl with wild frizzy hair and full red lips. Michelle wears a loose peasant blouse and a long skirt; Jul wears 501s and a blue cotton shirt with full sleeves.

Michelle says: "You're Italian, aren't you?"

Jul shrugs. "Only part Italian. I'm really French."

Michelle looks coy. "You look Italian enough. Italian butches turn me on." She pulls back and shakes her shoulders to the music. "What do you do?"

"I'm a teacher."

"Are you any good?"

"Sometimes."

"I don't mean teaching."

"I know what you mean."

Michelle makes a sound as though she's just tasted a chocolate sundae. They stop dancing and stand at the edge of the crowded dance floor. Michelle talks about her advertising job. Then she says: "You know what? I think we ought to go somewhere and fuck. We can go to my place."

"All right."

"But I mean I want you to fuck me. Do you use a strap-on?"

Jul hasn't ever, but she's hot for this girl, eager to experience Michelle's intensity. "I don't have it with me," Jul says.

"Don't worry, I have everything at home. God, I bet you're good. Yeah, I can tell."

Overwhelmed by the girl, hoping she won't make a fool of herself, Jul leaves with Michelle to go to Michelle's Upper East Side apartment.

As they ride uptown in a taxi, Michelle grabs Jul's hand and pulls it between her legs. "Come on, do something."

Jul is uneasy because of the driver, but she gets her hand under Michelle's loose skirt and into Michelle's crotch. She rubs Michelle's cunt through her panties, and Michelle starts coming almost immediately.

Jul is tremendously excited by the girl's orgasm.

When the come is finished, Michelle leans her head on Jul's shoulder. "I always go off like dynamite," Michelle says, her voice softer now. "Boom boom. Quick. You did it just right."

The driver seems oblivious to anything happening behind him.

Finally, Jul and Michelle arrive at Michelle's apartment building on Eighty-third Street. Jul pays the taxi driver. Inside the building, Jul and Michelle share the elevator with a silent couple, a man and woman in their fifties. Jul imagines she can smell Michelle's come; she feels claustrophobic. At last she and Michelle exit the elevator and leave the couple behind.

Michelle has a small studio apartment. Neat but small. As soon as the shades are pulled, Jul and Michelle are in a hot clinch near the sofa. They drop down to the rug, kissing and tearing at Michelle's clothes. Michelle pulls away to strip everything off. She has slender shoulders and full drooping breasts, a combination that excites Jul.

Michelle says: "Don't go away. Just wait for me."

Jul sits on the rug and waits. She looks at the room, her heart beating with excitement, anticipation, satisfaction that she was able to connect tonight.

Michelle returns with a pink rubber dildo and a harness.

"Here's the dick," Michelle says, rubbing it across her bare breasts. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Okay."

"If you wear it under the jeans with just the dick sticking out, that really turns me on."

Jul takes the cock and harness to the bathroom.

At least Michelle is clean. The neat bathroom is testimony.

Michelle drops her jeans. This is her first time with a strap-on, and she's wondering if she ought to consider the politics. Well, screw the politics, she thinks. No, she's about to screw Michelle. She wags the rubber cock in front of her belly to see the effect. She dons the harness, secures the straps with the cock in place through the hole, the cock bobbing as if it's alive. She feels the excitement now. She pulls up her 501s, buttons the fly around the cock. One button undone is enough, the cock sticking out like a thick pink baton.

She looks at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. What she sees makes her so hot she trembles.

Yeah, she thinks.

She returns to the living room with the cock wagging.

Michelle is naked on the sofa, her eyes hot as she stares at Jul.

"God, I love it," Michelle says. She spreads her legs, rubbing her pussy as she looks at Jul. "How do you want me?"

Jul gazes at the dark cunt. Hairy. Jul loves hair. Michelle's hair is so thick, the lips of her cunt are hardly visible. "Right there," Jul says. She pushes Michelle back on the sofa, getting her legs up, stroking her thighs.

Michelle groans as she stares at the cock. She slides both hands down to her pussy to hold her lips open.

After pulling back a bit, Jul takes hold of the cock and she guides the tip into Michelle's leaking cunt.

Michelle groans again, her knees folded all the way back to her breasts as she says: "Fuck me deep and hard."

Jul starts moving, thrusting, sliding the cock in and out.

She learns.

She feels the intense excitement. She loves it. She decides she loves fucking a girl with a cock. She loves the power she has. The raw fucking power. I love it, she thinks.

Thursday afternoon at the Plaza Hotel, and Jul and blonde Sally were riding up an elevator to a room. They were both already mellow from cocktails at the bar. Jul considered it worth the money. She needed this. She needed variety in her life, this tingling feeling because this was sex with someone she hardly knew and she found that exciting. Why not? Safety with a closet dyke from New Jersey. The excitement of a new conquest. I'm just not the domestic type, Jul thought. Rita would never understand. Rita would throw her out if she ever discovered it.

Jul smiled at Sally. They were alone in the elevator, and without haste Jul rubbed the back of her hand over one of Sally's bulging breasts. The tit bulging in her red blouse.

The excitement showed in Sally's face as Jul kept her hand there.

Jul said: "I'd like to suck these for about an hour."

Sally shuddered with pleasure. "Oh Jesus."

Finally they were at the room. As soon as they were inside, Jul pulled back and acted more reserved in order to get Sally begging for it. Jul said there was no need to close the blinds; there was nothing out there except the park. She thought Sally would look good in the sunlight. She approached the blonde and gave her a lingering kiss at the corner of her lips. Then Jul moved away again.

Her nervousness showing, Sally babbled about the beautiful view of the park. "I've never been in this hotel before."

Jul moved in again. This time the kiss was hotter, but Jul still held back her tongue.

"I'm hot for you," Jul said.

Another kiss. Now Jul's tongue slid into Sally's mouth, her tongue fucking into the blonde's mouth until Sally groaned against her lips.

Jul's fingers started working at the buttons of Sally's blouse. One by one, the buttons came undone, Jul leaning back, both of them watching Jul's hands. She pulled the blouse out of the waistband of Sally's skirt and spread it apart.

Sally's heavy breasts were contained by a white lace bra.

Jul said: "Go on, unhook it."

Sally blushed as she reached back to unhook her bra. In a moment, the big breasts bounced out like a pair of pillows.

Jul took them in her hands, stroked them, lifted them, her thumbs rubbing the wide pink nipples.

Sally closed her eyes and hissed.

At last Jul raised a tit high and dropped her mouth to suck.

She made love to the breast with her hands as she sucked, her fingers stroking, pressing, teasing the abundant flesh.

Then she stopped. "Wait for me," Jul said. "I'll be back soon."

Sally blew Jul a kiss as Jul walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Jul closed the door and stripped off her school clothes, everything off until she was naked. She removed a black dildo and harness from her purse and wrapped the straps around her body. She watched herself in the mirror. Watching herself donning her cock always made her hot.

Then she rummaged in her purse again, brought out a tube of K-Y, opened it, and then carefully smeared some of the gel on the latex dildo. Only enough to make it gleam.

When she returned to the bedroom, she found Sally naked on the bed and waiting for her.

Sally froze when she saw the cock.

"Oh, that's crazy," Sally said, her eyes fixed on the swaying black dildo.

"Haven't you ever?"

"Not like that. Not when it's worn like that."

Jul was amused. She liked Sally. She was sweet. Blonde and busty and with skin like silk. A suburban closet dyke rattled by a dildo. Jul took her cock in her hand and said: "It's better this way. I bet you're going to love it."

Sally squirmed on the bed. "What I like is getting licked."

Jul smiled as she climbed onto the bed between Sally's legs. "I like doing that too."

She went down on Sally, her face burrowing into the plump little trench, her tongue finding the stream and her lips drinking from it.

Sally moaned.

Jul continued sucking until Sally's belly heaved.

Then Jul pulled back to raise Sally's knees. "Let's try it now."

Sally yielded. "I've never been screwed with one of those."

"Yes, you said that."

"It can't hurt me, can it?"

Jul chuckled as she guided her black cock inside Sally's thick-lipped pink cunt.

Now Sally groaned. No more talk about hurting. Groaning as she reached out to pull Jul closer.

Jul settled in, dropping down enough to feel Sally's big breasts against her own, kissing Sally's open mouth, sliding her cock in Sally's cunt as she made love to Sally's face.

Hello, New Jersey, Jul thought. It's Thursday afternoon at the Plaza.

At the end of a long day in the gallery, Rita said: "Beth, you've been hiding something from me."

Beth sighed. "I have?"

"Ever since you returned from that trip upstate, you've been acting like a lost soul. Just what went on up there? Don't you want to talk about it? Come on, we'll go to Perry's and have a pair of tall whiskey sours and talk."

Beth had no choice. When Rita was determined the way she seemed now, there was never any way to dissuade her. And it might do me some good, Beth thought. Maybe she did need to talk to someone.

As usual, Perry's was crowded, but they found a table in a corner and ordered drinks. Rita started questioning Beth immediately, and before long Beth revealed she had done more than get her car fixed in that little town upstate.

Rita was amused. "Tell me about her."

"She's tall, gorgeous, and very butch."

"In the Adirondacks?"

"Yes, in the Adirondacks. They've got people up there too, you know."

"I can't imagine it. Why doesn't she come to New York?"

"Maybe she likes the trees."

"She wowed you, didn't she?"

"And how."

"Poor baby. You're not going to fall apart, are you? We're coming into the busy season at the gallery."

Beth shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I've already made plans to get the Adirondacks out of my mind."

She had to. She told herself the interlude with Marlo had been all sex and nothing else. Not a hint of tenderness from Marlo. Just an unexpected but casual fuck. I won't fall apart, Beth thought. Nothing important had happened up there; nothing that wouldn't fade.

That evening, Beth had a date with Delora. She liked Delora because Delora was never serious about anything. All Delora cared about was a good time and looking after her two cats. Delora did a routine in a midtown strip bar, but the money was lousy and she never had enough to pay her bills. Beth and Delora got along fine, maybe because they almost looked like sisters, which was an amusement for both of them. Delora had larger breasts and wider hips, but they were the same height and they had the same coloring. With Delora there was never any dyke drama, just ordinary sex of the first-you-then-me kind, no problems and no politics.

This evening Delora said: "I'm going to make you hot."

Beth smiled and looked around to make certain no one could hear them. Delora was not working this evening, and they were sitting in a rather sedate midtown restaurant.

Her eyes on Delora again, Beth chuckled as she tasted the flan dessert she'd ordered. "Don't get us in trouble here."

"I'm doing a special strip for you tonight. Would you like that?"

"You haven't done that in a long time."

"You never ask for it."

"I don't ask for it because you do it at work and I always think you'd be bored with it."

"Not if it gets you hot. It does, doesn't it?"

"Always."

Delora tossed her a happy smile. She was easy to please, Delora was. Easy to please and with an outrageously lovely body. Beth felt herself getting aroused as she thought of them in bed together. She felt relieved, because ever since that episode with that woman in the Adirondacks she hadn't been able to get interested in anyone else. Maybe a night with Delora would help her forget Marlo. Delora could be delicious. She was always a bottom with Beth, and whenever Beth wanted a woman like that it was always Delora she called first. Would it work for her now?

After dinner they went to Beth's apartment. Beth was already mellow from the wine she'd had at the restaurant. Delora talked about how much she hated her boss, what a pig he was, how he exploited the dancers who worked for him. "But I don't let him get to me," Delora said. "He keeps on hinting he wants to fuck me, but I won't let him get near me."

The idea of Delora's boss making love to Delora repelled Beth. She wondered if Delora was truthful when she said she never slept with men. Beth wondered.

But Delora did excite her. There was no doubt about that.

"Are you ready for me?" Delora teased. "I told you I'm going to strip for you."

"Yes, you did."

"A private show just for you, babe."

Delora chose music for the stereo while Beth's eagerness increased.

As the rock music filled the room, Delora faced Beth and said: "I'm not good for much, but I do know how to strip."

"You're wonderful," Beth said. She sat down on the sofa to wait for the show. She was definitely in the mood for it now, in the mood for anything that might lift her spirits.

Delora teased as she danced. She had a captive audience and she obviously loved what she was doing. Beth expected a spicy strip. She was eager for a long luxurious look at Delora's body.

Delora continued moving with all her clothes on, teasing Beth, the passion evident in her face, especially her eyes.

Beth thought about all that sexual energy Delora had. The music aroused Beth; the heavy sexual beat turned her on.

Delora looked only at Beth as she danced. Now she slowly unbuttoned her skirt. She bent forward, the low neckline of her loose silk blouse revealing more of her generous breasts. Then she turned her back to Beth, her hands sliding the skirt down past her hips. Her full buttocks were uncovered, then her thighs. She wore a thin purple garter belt to hold up her stockings. The strap of a g-string vanished in the deep split between her buttocks. She danced with her feet in place, working her calves and thighs and ass as Beth watched her with her blood racing.

The skirt dropped to the floor, and as Delora bent forward, Beth could see the g-string thong tight between her labia. Delora's full ass made Beth's heart pound with desire.

Delora casually stepped out of the skirt and kicked it away.

She turned to face Beth, and now Beth's eyes were on the tiny triangle of the g-string that barely covered the plump mound. Then Beth raised her eyes to Delora's luscious breasts snugly encased in a sheer bra.

Her body swaying to the music, Delora unclasped the bra in front, her hands moving slowly, her eyes teasing Beth as she abruptly pulled the bra open to reveal her breasts in all their glory.

The nipples were pink, large areolas with pointed erect tips, the globes of the breasts showing a ripe fullness, a slight droop because of their weight. Unlike many of the dancers in the topless clubs and bars of Manhattan, Delora had never had her breasts amplified with silicone. Beth thought they were perfect, and as she gazed at them, her mouth watered. She wanted those breasts in her mouth. She was hot now, hot and eager for everything.

Delora caressed her breasts as she danced. She moved her legs into a wide stance as she pinched her nipples with her fingertips. Then she moved closer to Beth, smiled down at her, and gracefully turned to show her ass again.

Shaking her hips, Delora unsnapped the g-string.

Her back still turned, she bent forward until Beth could see the shaved lips of her pussy.

Enchanted by the invitation, Beth reached out to find Delora's wetness with her fingers.

Delora groaned as she felt Beth's two fingers penetrate her cunt.

"Fuck me, baby. Please fuck me."

Beth stroked Delora's hip with her left hand as she slowly pumped her fingers in and out of Delora's sex. After awhile she extended one of her free fingers to rub Delora's clit each time she filled her cunt. The expert fingerwork soon pushed Delora into a shuddering climax.

Later, in bed, Delora insisted she wanted to make Beth come.

Beth tried to dissuade her, but Delora was adamant.

So Beth lay back to be licked and sucked. Delora worked over her a long time, but without any success. Beth finally stopped it.

"I can't, Del. Not tonight."

"You don't like me anymore."

"Del, please. . . "

She coaxed Delora to sleep. And after that Beth lay in the dark thinking about Marlo until her eyes finally closed. I'm such a fool, she thought; such a silly, silly fool.

Several hundred miles to the north, Marlo idly fingered Lucy's nipples as they watched an old movie on Marlo's TV. I'll go tomorrow, Marlo thought. Tomorrow she would pack the paintings into the van and drive down to the city to find that art gallery woman. That lovely Beth.

Lucy moaned as Marlo gently pinched one of her nipples.

"I love you, Marlo."

PART THREE

On a Tuesday afternoon, Marlo walked into the gallery where Beth worked.

Beth didn't see her at first. She was in the back checking a shipment of watercolors that had just arrived from one of their artists in Europe. Then she glanced into the main room of the gallery and she gasped as she saw the tall woman and recognized her immediately.

"That's her," Beth said to Rita.

Rita gave her a puzzled look. "That's who?"

"That woman. That's Marlo, the woman in the Adirondacks, the one I told you about."

Rita looked at Marlo, looked her over carefully as Marlo stood in profile studying a painting on one of the walls. "Well, how about that?" Rita said. "She's not here by accident, love. Go on, get out there."

"But you can understand my surprise," Beth said.

Marlo shrugged. "I come to New York two or three times a year."

"Still, I didn't expect you."

They were riding up the elevator to Beth's apartment. Beth was still shocked. Marlo had parked a rented van with a load of her paintings right outside the gallery. Rita had been completely amused. They'd helped Marlo herd her paintings into the gallery, and then Rita insisted Beth take the afternoon off. Too flustered to think straight, Beth had merely nodded. She walked out with Marlo and they strolled on Fifth Avenue. Now they were riding up to Beth's apartment supposedly to choose a restaurant for their evening dinner. Beth felt her heart pound because she could sense (and hoped) more than the evening dinner was on the agenda. She'd been hungry for body contact with Marlo for hours, but so far nothing had happened.

This woman has me, Beth thought. She felt she belonged to Marlo totally.

As soon as the door of the apartment was closed, the electric tension between them exploded and Marlo backed Beth against a wall and kissed her. Beth moaned against Marlo's mouth as Marlo's hands slid down her back to grip her buttocks through her dress. As Marlo's body pressed against hers, Beth suddenly felt the hard bulge pushing against her belly. No, it couldn't be! But yes it was true; she could feel it; Marlo apparently had a dildo under her jeans. Beth shuddered, wondering why she hadn't noticed it when Marlo had first stepped into the apartment. But of course she'd been looking at Marlo's face and not down there.

Her thoughts were confused as Marlo continued to kiss her, her mouth filled with Marlo's invading active tongue. The tall woman's tongue pushed like a wriggling serpent between Beth's lips, sliding over her teeth and then between them to brush her palate. Meanwhile, Marlo's hands continued to grasp Beth's buttocks, her fingers now tugging at the dress to raise it, pulling it upward until the hem was at Beth's waist between her back and the wall, Marlo's strong hands now clutching Beth's buttocks through the nylon of her panties.

Beth groaned. "Oh God, what you do to me!"

Marlo chuckled against her ear, kissed her lips tenderly, then slowly released her and pulled back. "I'd like a drink."

Beth pulled herself together and nodded. "Yes, of course. Scotch?"

"Vodka on the rocks, if you have it."

"Yes, I do."

Then Marlo noticed Beth's eyes on her crotch, and with a soft smile she slid her hand over the bulge of the dildo. "Yes, that's for you. But later. There's plenty of time for it."

Beth blushed, trembling as she felt the heat in her face. She had never been with a woman like Marlo before, never in a situation like this. Wearing a dildo! She felt a mixture of astonishment and admiration at Marlo's courage.

"I'm not as experienced as you think," Beth blurted out.

Marlo's hand stroked the outline of the dildo again. "About this?"

"Yes. I don't know if---"

"Don't worry, you will."

As she stared at the bulge, Beth could not restrain the urge to ask: "How in heaven do you go around in public like that?"

Marlo shrugged. "I do what I want." Then she smiled. "You can't notice it unless you look for it, and most people don't look, do they? Only the dykes."

"Yes, I suppose so. You're something."

Marlo touched Beth's chin. "And you're beautiful." She took Beth by the arm and led her away from the front door of the apartment and into the spacious living room. "I like it," Marlo said, gesturing at the furniture. "I like the style."

Beth was thrilled that her taste found favor with Marlo. She glanced again at the bulge in Marlo's trousers, and then quickly turned and walked away to make their drinks.

Yes, I want it, Beth thought; I want her to fuck me with her cock.

She poured Scotch for herself, and Vodka for Marlo.

They sat beside each other on the sofa, sipping their drinks as Beth talked about how difficult life could be in New York. "But of course I love it." She felt awkward. She wanted to throw herself into Marlo's arms, but she was afraid. She knew so little about Marlo. She adored her, but she knew so little about her. Beth's heart beat more rapidly as she remembered that afternoon in Marlo's house and the way Marlo had taken her. Marlo was so unpredictable. First that rush just inside the door, and now nothing but a cool distance as Beth continued chattering.

"I'm talking too much," Beth said.

"No, I like it. I like looking at you when you talk."

Beth blushed. "Is it too warm in here?"

"It's not warm enough. Come over here. Put your drink down and come closer."

Her pulse racing again, Beth placed her drink on the low table in front of them and slid across the sofa cushion to get closer to Marlo.

"That's better," Marlo said. She put her drink beside Beth's on the table. She draped her left arm around Beth's shoulders, and then she bent her head to kiss the right side of Beth's throat.

Her head lifting as she felt the tingling kiss, Beth moaned. She slumped against the back of the sofa as Marlo continued kissing her. Then she felt Marlo's fingers working at the buttons of her blouse, unbuttoning her, spreading the blouse, fingertips tracing the curves in the sheer bra. Her eyes closed, Beth shuddered as she felt Marlo's fingers rubbing her nipples through the lace, rubbing the stiff points until they seemed to burn like two flames at the tips of her breasts.

Instead of unhooking the bra, Marlo pulled at the light- weight nylon, hooked her hands inside to get both breasts out over the cups.

"Beautiful," Marlo said.

Beth opened her eyes, blushing as she gazed down at her exposed breasts, at the nipples swollen and stiff with her excitement.

"Oh Marlo..."

"Yes?"

"Please kiss me again."

"And?"

"Make love to me!"

With a satisfied throaty murmur, Marlo dropped her head to take a burning hard nipple between her lips.

The picture Beth made had Marlo's belly rippling with lust. She stood beside Beth's bed while Beth knelt on a colorful bedspread she'd brought back from a trip to Mexico. Beth was only half stripped: she still wore her blouse, but it was open and bunched forward to reveal nearly all of her back. Below the waist she was bare, nothing but thigh-high nylons with elastic tops and the beige high-heeled sandals that Marlo had insisted remain on her feet. Her head buried in her folded forearms on a pillow, Beth knelt near the edge of the bed with her knees apart and every part of her revealed to Marlo's eyes.

"Marlo, I---"

"Don't talk," Marlo said softly. "This is no time for talking. At least not you. You're beautiful, love. You're exquisite."

Beth shuddered and remained silent. She was happy it was Marlo looking at her, so happy she could hardly encompass it.

Marlo had her dildo out. She was still totally dressed, but she had the front of her jeans open and the black cock exposed and dangling. She fondled it with her hand. For a long time she'd used a pink one. Then a black lover had begged for a black dildo and Marlo had ordered this ebony marvel from San Francisco. The cock was perfect: not too long, pliant enough to take any angle, and thick enough to make a woman groan.

She wanted Beth groaning. She reached out and gently stroked Beth's lovely buttocks. Beth visibly trembled as Marlo's fingers passed into the valley to graze her anus. Marlo remembered what she had done to Beth in Milson Corners, how she had taken Beth there with her thumb. Sooner or later she would have more than a thumb in there, but not tonight. She ran her fingertips over the pouting labia, tickling touches before slowly spreading the lips apart to more completely reveal her target.

"Beautiful," Marlo said, her voice husky as she gazed at the pink treasure cove, the vaginal opening already coated with a milky gloss.

Beth murmured into the pillow.

Her eyes hot, Marlo continued looking. She fondled the cock again, now bringing the tip to the opening. They both groaned as she pushed forward to fill Beth's passage.

Rita agreed to put up several of Marlo's paintings in the gallery, and their quick sale impressed everyone. Beth was delighted when Rita said they'd have to think about a one-woman show for Marlo in the fall, and she hurried to tell Marlo the news.

"It's as good as a commitment from Rita," Beth said. "You'll be a great success."

Beth had arranged for Marlo to occupy the small loft studio of a painter on vacation in Europe. They sat near the open window to escape the heat, their eyes on the street and the passing pedestrians.

"They won't buy that many," Marlo shrugged.

"Why do you say that?"

"It's a guess."

"I think you'll do fine."

Beth adored Marlo more than ever now that she had Marlo in New York with her. They saw each other nearly every evening, a dinner somewhere, maybe a movie afterward, then hours of making love. Beth was always aware of the envious eyes of other women. Marlo was so spectacular to look at, she never failed to draw the interest of everyone around her. Beth drifted in a haze of happiness from one romantic evening to another. Was Marlo courting her? If so, Beth thought the courtship heavenly. She felt a sense of eternity, as though nothing could ever change between them. The sex was incredibly gratifying, more pleasurable, more complete with Marlo than she'd ever experienced with anyone. Her only wish was to be able to go down on Marlo more often. It happened, but not often enough to suit Beth. Marlo was always reserved, doing everything to give Beth orgasm after orgasm, but then usually finding some reason not to yield her body in turn. Sometimes the refusal was outright, sometimes no more than a gentle obstinacy. Beth gradually understood Marlo held back with everyone, not only with her. She resolved that somehow she would overcome this part of Marlo's personality.

They explored the art world in Manhattan together, museums, exhibits, the midtown galleries and the galleries in SoHo. One afternoon they rested on a bench in Central Park and talked about how much longer Marlo would stay in New York.

"You know I don't like the city," Marlo said.

Beth pouted. "I thought I made a difference."

"You do, honey."

"Really?"

"The past two weeks have been good for me."

"And for me too."

"I thought I'd be too much for you."

Beth shook her head. "Well, you're not."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

Their eyes met, both of them aware Beth was admitting she enjoyed being submissive, enjoyed it thoroughly, even if sometimes she pretended not to.

Marlo was pleased. She extended her hand and gently rubbed Beth's neck. "Okay, maybe I'll stay in New York awhile."

Beth wanted Marlo to live with her, but Marlo insisted she was too independent and she declined. Beth did her best to hint at the advantages of a shared life, hoping Marlo would change her mind. One evening Beth cooked dinner for them, white wine and swordfish filets covered with almonds. She had candlelight on the dinner table, and when Marlo arrived, she greeted her in a black chiffon gown.

Marlo was obviously pleased. "You look lovely," she said.

Beth smiled. "Thank you. You just sit and let me take care of the dinner."

Marlo sat down. She thought how superb Beth was. Such a perfect symmetrical face, that lower lip full and suggestive. She wondered what Beth wore under the chiffon gown. As Beth moved about the room, Marlo caught glimpses of Beth's ankles covered by sheer black hose.

As though in a silent agreement, they deliberately avoided touching each other all through dinner. The sexual tension became as tight as a bow string, until finally, when Beth brought coffee to the table, Marlo slid a hand up Beth's leg outside her gown.

"I love it when you dress like this," Marlo said.

Beth remained motionless as Marlo caressed her legs and thighs. "Anything for you, my love."

Through the chiffon, Marlo felt the garter straps at the tops of Beth's stockings. She moved her hand upward along the back of Beth's thigh until she reached the curve of Beth's ass.

"Does this belong to me?"

"You know it does."

"You could plant it on my lap."

Beth laughed and pulled away. "No, let's have our coffee first."

They had the coffee, and then after that they had brandy in the living room at the low Chinese table. As Beth bent forward, her gown billowed open to reveal the slopes of her breasts. When Beth sat back again, Marlo adjusted the loose front of Beth's gown so that Beth's nipples were exposed.

"It's better this way," Marlo said.

Beth blushed as she looked down at herself. "We ought to close the blinds."

"No, let them see. Let them have a look at a beautiful woman."

"Why don't you move in here with me? There's more than enough room."

"I told you why. I don't like living with anyone."

Unwilling to spoil the romantic mood, Beth decided not to pursue the issue. She licked a fingertip and anointed one of her nipples, toyed with it until it stiffened.

Marlo chuckled and sat back to watch. "That's better. Now show some leg to the leering audience."

Beth crossed her legs and pulled back the edge of her gown until the tops of her stockings were exposed. "You have a leg fetish."

"Yes, of course. Legs and everything else. Wet your nipples again. Both of them."

Beth licked the fingers of both hands and then used her fingertips to moisten and tease her nipples.

"Slip out of the gown."

"Not with the blinds open."

Marlo laughed, rising up and walking to the wide window to gaze at the lights of the city. "Come here."

Beth went to her, moving into Marlo's arms to accept a hot kiss, a wet and ravenous kiss that took her breath away.

"Marlo, I love you."

Marlo freed Beth's breasts, exposed them completely and then bent to lick and suck at the nipples. Beth said something about the window again, and then finally she moaned and yielded.

Marlo now had a hand under the chiffon gown, her hand sliding upward between Beth's nylon-covered knees. She stroked Beth's mound through her lace panties. Then Marlo' fingers slipped inside, her fingertips finding the wet groove.

Vanquished, Beth opened her legs to Marlo's hand.

"You're wet," Marlo said.

"Wet for you."

"This is one sopping cunt."

"Oh Marlo..."

Marlo's fingers pushed inside the slippery channel. Two fingers. Then three fingers. Beth groaned.

Marlo breathed against Beth's ear. "Like it?"

"Yes!"

Four fingers now, the fingers inside and hooked upward with the heel of Marlo's palm smashing against Beth's clit. "Open your legs more."

Beth was almost squatting, drunk with excitement as she wondered if anyone out there could see them.

Marlo's hand worked the cunt, her fingers thrusting, churning in the wet.

"Come on, honey."

"Fuck me, Marlo!"

"Come on, come on, do it on my hand."

Marlo watched Beth's face as the orgasm rippled through Beth's body. She kept her fingers moving, more gently now, a slow stroking as Beth came down to earth again and slumped against Marlo's shoulder.

Her palm soaked, Marlo stepped away and closed the blinds. "They can stop eating their hearts out."

Beth felt unsteady on her high-heeled sandals. "I think I need some more wine."

"Not too much, and get out of the gown."

Without a word, Beth slipped out of the chiffon gown. She was naked now, wearing only a black garter belt, wispy black panties, sheer black hose and black evening sandals with high thin heels. She'd bought the lingerie only the day before.

"Mmm, I like it," Marlo said.

Beth smiled and did a turn, displaying her breasts and legs and ass to her lover. She felt more secure now that the blinds were closed. Aware of Marlo's eyes on her body, she walked to the sideboard to pour some more wine. When she returned to the center of the living room, Marlo told her to bend over the back of an easy chair.

"I'll do nasty things to you," Marlo said.

Beth quivered as she wondered what Marlo intended. She glanced quickly at the revealed shape of Marlo's dildo. She always looked for it now, and she'd noticed it as soon as Marlo had entered the apartment this evening.

At the easy chair, Beth bent over the back of it, exposing her cunt and ass to Marlo's eyes.

"Perfection," Marlo said.

"I feel so open this way."

"Tell me what I can see."

"My pussy."

"What else?"

"My ass."

"And it turns you on, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

Marlo came behind her to stroke her buttocks. Then she bent and kissed them, licking into the groove, pulling the cheeks apart with her hands to get her tongue into the wet conch of Beth's cunt. She sucked at the welling juices, loving the smell of Beth, exciting herself as she pressed her nose against Beth's anus. Her fingers found Beth's clit, and she rubbed the swollen spike as her tongue foraged everywhere.

Her head down, her feet almost off the floor, Beth started shuddering as she felt Marlo's thick tongue working in her wet cunt.

It's all I want, Beth thought. There was no meaning to anything except this.

The only reason Rita paid any attention to the two girls was that she was annoyed with Jul. More than annoyed -- angry. For some weeks now, Rita had suspected Jul might be cheating on her. Today Jul was out of town at a convention and Rita felt the anger as she wondered what Jul might be doing in Atlanta this evening. She'd find a dyke to fuck, no doubt. Rita was convinced of it. She'd had an inkling for a long time and she always paid attention to her inklings. So looking at the two girls who had walked into the gallery -- looking at them no more than they were looking at her, looking at them and playing the eyes game -- gave Rita a sense of vengeance. Yes, why not? These two college girls, if that's what they were, were certainly cruising her, and she told herself Jul would deserve it if something developed.

One of the girls was tall and thin, with long reddish hair and freckles and pointed little tits vibrating under a silk blouse. The other girl was shorter, more sedate, chunky in the hips, strong legs and the look of a soccer player. The way their eyes kept returning to Rita, there was no doubt in Rita's mind they were interested. My sex appeal, Rita thought with amusement. The more she looked at them, the more the idea appealed to her.

The girls made the first move. After a while they ambled over to Rita to ask questions about some of the paintings, chatter about how interesting the gallery was, how interesting all the galleries were, how interesting it must be to have Rita's job. They were suitably impressed when they learned Rita owned the place. Oh wow. Then the redhead, the tall thin girl, came right out and asked: "Are you gay?"

The other girl rolled her eyes and looked ready to slam her friend. "I told you not to..."

"Oh Mickey..."

The redhead was Shelly and the short one was Mickey. Rita, being old enough to have played the game a zillion times, had them wait around until she closed the gallery. Then she took them home to see her Leonor Fini watercolors.

Try not, get not, Rita thought. Jul always said that. The hell with Jul, she'd have a ball with these two.

In Rita's townhouse, the girls marveled at the luxury and wanted cold beer. Rita refused to offer them any dope. They became silly anyway. Mickey said it was Shelly's idea to come on to Rita, Shelly's guess that Rita was a dyke. Shelly wasn't the shy one; Mickey was. Rita was afraid to ask how much experience they had or whether they slept with men. Rita considered the problem of catching something and decided she'd be careful. She was too used to her monogamous relationship with Jul. Except that Jul wasn't likely monogamous and if that were true she had to depend on Jul being careful. It's horrible, Rita thought. All she wanted was to keep her body and soul happy, and look what she had to go through to get it.

The two girls sat on the sofa facing Rita, while Rita sat in a low Italian blimp-chair close enough to extend her leg and touch Shelly's foot. She maintained the contact while she told them about Leonor Fini. It was Mickey who finally got up and came over to kneel beside Rita and kiss her. Rita was pleased; things would be less awkward than she expected. As they kissed, Rita reached out her hand to Shelly and Shelly came to her. Shelly caressed Rita's breasts through her dress while Rita continued kissing Mickey. Mickey groaned and the girls switched. Now Shelly kissed Rita while Mickey straddled on of Rita's legs to rub her cunt against Rita's knee.

I love it, Rita thought. She could feel Mickey's hands getting her blouse open. Then Mickey had one of Rita's breasts exposed and she was bending forward to suck the nipple while Shelly sucked Rita's tongue. Rita felt her body humming, the tension cranking up and up. A long time had passed since she'd had two women working her, and she'd almost forgotten how wonderful it was.

Before long all three of them were sprawled on the rug. Shelly somehow got herself naked without Rita even realizing it was happening. One moment Shelly was dressed and the next moment her lovely little tits were bouncing around like ripe avocados. Mickey pulled at Rita's clothes to get her undressed, and then Shelly helped Mickey and Rita was both amused and excited by the fervor of the two girls. They wanted her body. She adored Shelly's sweet little tits, the pink nipples of a true redhead. When Rita was naked, every stitch of clothing tossed away on the rug, both girls jumped her. Mickey sucked Rita's breasts while Shelly slowly ate and licked Rita's cunt with an artful tongue. Rita's hands were all over both girls. She found their cunts drenched. She pinched their clits and stirred the wet with her fingers. She asked them to drip on her face one after the other and they loved doing it. First Mickey, who was more sedate, more tentative, and then Shelly, who knew what she wanted and ground her clit down on Rita's nose and flooded her mouth.

Rita gave up trying to understand them. Maybe they just wanted experience. A mature woman to roll on a rug with them. Rita remembered what it was like at their age. When they went down on her, the girls were a bit clumsy and too excited. They acted as though her cunt was a newly discovered diamond mine. They showed no interest in each other, only in Rita.

Rita finally stopped it. She gently pushed them away and told them the bed was more comfortable than the floor. "It's big enough for three," she said, her fingers stroking her nipples to keep them stiff. "Maybe you can fuck me. Would you like that?"

She could see the idea excited them. In her bedroom, she brought out an old strap-on that she kept in a drawer. She couldn't bring herself to let them use of Jul's dildoes. That would be too much.

Mickey used it first. When Mickey strapped on the cock, Rita became excited at the way she looked. She opened her legs to Mickey, raised her knees and started rocking as soon as Mickey got inside her. "Oh baby, give it to me!" Rita cried. She lost track of the orgasms. Then it was Shelly's turn, but Shelly wanted to use her hand instead. She fucked Rita with her fingers and managed to get her fist inside. Rita loved it. She seemed to come forever. She watched Mickey masturbate while Shelly kept her fist working in her cunt.

The hell with Jul, Rita thought. Whoever Jul was with, the hell with her too.

Beth and Marlo went biking in Central Park one Sunday, white teeshirts and shorts and white sneakers, Beth leading Marlo down one bike path after another, until at the end of two hours the sweat dripped off their bodies. They returned to Beth's apartment to shower separately, and afterward, as Beth stood in the kitchen preparing a snack for them, Marlo came up behind her and kissed her neck.

Marlo was dressed again in a clean shirt and shorts, but Beth was still wearing a blue cotton robe. Beth quivered as Marlo pressed against her back.

Marlo said: "I had a nice view all afternoon."

"What do you mean?"

"Your butt in those tight shorts."

Beth blushed. She felt Marlo's hand between their bodies, Marlo's fingers stroking her buttocks.

Beth said: "Do you want mustard on this?"

"I want jelly on your ass."

Beth was amused. "I think that would be a bit sticky."

"Blueberry jam, if you have it."

"You're not serious."

"Raspberry is good too, but I'd rather have blueberry."

"I think we're getting into uncharted territory."

"Do you have any mules with heels? If you put them on and get out of this robe, I think that would be perfect."

The food no longer seemed important, and Beth's heart was thumping when she came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of high-heeled mules.

Marlo was immediately aroused by the sight of Beth naked and wearing heels, excited by the curves of her legs and ass.

And Beth loved the way Marlo looked at her, the heat in Marlo's eyes.

"I'll put the food in the refrigerator," Beth said.

Marlo nodded. "Bring some jelly."

Beth blushed and turned to the kitchen, and Marlo's eyes followed the full cheeks, the long thighs, the pointed heels of the mules.

When Beth returned, she carried a small jar of raspberry jam. "This is all I have."

Marlo took the jar. "You can bend over that armchair."

"I wasn't lying when I said this is uncharted territory."

Marlo reached out to stroke one of Beth's full breasts. "On the chair, doll."

Her heart pounding, Beth walked to the chair. She felt so utterly submissive with Marlo, not an ounce of anything but the need to please her.

She supported herself at the edge of the chair with her feet on the floor and her arms extended to reach the back. It was awkward, but she could manage it. Then Marlo came behind her, and Beth felt Marlo's hands spreading her legs, caressing her calves, gently scratching her thighs. The muscles of Beth's legs were pulled tight by the high heels.

Then Marlo straightened again and opened the jar of jam.

Beth trembled as she felt Marlo's fingers dabbing jam on her buttocks.

Marlo painted her. Dollops of jam all over her ass. And in the crack. Smearing it slowly over her anus. Marlo looked down and watched her fingertip paint the opening. She pushed her forefinger inside the tight ring of Beth's anus, then replaced it with her thumb. She put the jar down and slid the other hand around front to stroke Beth's cunt.

Unsteady on the heels, Beth groaned.

Marlo stopped and bent behind her, squatting on the rug, her face close to Beth's ass.

Beth shivered with excitement as she pictured what was about to happen. She wondered what her ass looked like with all the red jam on it.

Then Marlo started licking the jam off Beth's buttocks, licking and sucking at the sticky skin, Beth groaning as she felt Marlo's mouth.

"Tasty," Marlo said. "It's good jam."

Beth thought it was all too crazy -- but definitely marvelous.

When Beth's buttocks were cleaned of jam, Marlo spread them to open the crack. Beth's cunt appeared open and wet, a deep pink flower below the tight little ring of her jam-coated anus.

Beth trembled as she felt Marlo's warm breath in the crack of her ass.

Marlo moved in, gently kissing the closed little hole, licking at the jam. A jolt of lust rushed through her body as she felt the knot of the anus with her tongue. She felt the ring contract and squeeze on itself. She spread the buttocks further apart, gripping the sticky cheeks. Her lips against the opening, her teeth nibbled and bit at Beth's anus.

Beth groaned again, arching her back, her body trembling.

"Relax," Marlo said.

Beth did her best, her head hanging as she waited for Marlo's next move.

Marlo's tongue worked again, her mouth pressed against the opening, her tongue pushing at the ring of muscle.

Beth moaned, her dangling breasts swaying from side to side as she bent forward.

Marlo licked away all the jam, bathing Beth's anus, now wedging her tongue inside, deeper and deeper, her tongue like a wriggling serpent in Beth's ass, her tongue swirling in the sticky opening.

Beth moaned as she felt it, her eyes closed, her body tense as she focussed all her attention on what was happening to her.

Marlo finally withdrew her tongue and rose. "Don't move," she said.

Beth waited, bent forward, her legs apart, a stream of juice now dribbling out of her cunt along the inside of her left thigh. My running hole, she thought. But it was the other hole that now had center stage. No one had ever worked her ass like this. She felt like such a novice with Marlo.

When Marlo returned, Beth glanced over her shoulder and saw Marlo naked below the waist and wearing her strap-on cock.

Beth said nothing. She'd expected it. She was both afraid and eager for it. She'd had Marlo's fingers in her bottom, but never the cock. She prayed she could take it. She wanted it. Marlo's tongue had opened her ass wide and now she craved to have it filled.

Marlo wasted no time. She moved in behind Beth to steady her with her hands, placed the tip of the dildo at the opening, and then slowly worked it into the ring of muscle.

Beth's body tensed, then gradually relaxed under Marlo's coaxing.

"Nothing to be afraid of, honey. You're doing fine."

Beth's anus grabbed at the sliding cock. Marlo moved with small wiggle-like motions of her hips as she took her.

"Beautiful, doll."

All the way in and then slowly out again.

Then Marlo securely grasped Beth's hips as she increased the lengths of the strokes. She bent over Beth's back to grasp one of her hanging breasts.

"Do you love me?"

Beth groaned. "Oh yes! Oh yes, darling, I love you!"

Marlo's free hand found Beth's clit and rubbed it as she continued moving the cock.

Beth came, her cunt exploding, her legs shaking as Marlo kissed and bit at her neck.

"It looks like she has you hooked," Rita said.

Beth shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't seem happy."

"She won't stay."

"Are you sure?"

"I keep asking her to move in with me, but she won't do it. She has such an awful little place in the East Village."

"Maybe she doesn't want to crowd you."

"No, it's not that."

"She likes being alone."

"I'm sure she won't stay in New York, and I can't bear the idea of her leaving me."

"Poor baby."

"Yes, that's what I am. I'm a poor baby."

"You could go live with her upstate. If it doesn't work out, you can always have your job back."

Beth was gratified at Rita's offer, but she shook her head. "No, I couldn't live up there. Not ever."

Meanwhile Marlo controlled their relationship completely. She saw Marlo when Marlo was in the mood; she went where Marlo wanted to go; she dressed the way Marlo wanted her to dress.

One day Marlo called Beth at the gallery and said she'd pick her up in a taxi in an hour. Beth had to beg Rita for the afternoon off. She waited at the gallery for Marlo, but to Beth's embarrassment, Marlo showed up an hour late. Rather than apologize, Marlo hurried Beth into a taxi.

"We'll have dinner in the Village," Marlo said.

"I really thought you weren't coming."

"Sorry, baby, I was delayed."

Beth was afraid to ask for details, afraid Marlo would be annoyed with her.

They had dinner in an Italian restaurant on 10th Street, and before long Beth forgot how hurt she'd been by Marlo's late arrival at the gallery. When she looked at Marlo, all she could think of was how much she adored her. She loved Marlo's almost sinister looks. She looked hard and strong. Masterful, Beth thought. She quivered as she remembered Marlo making love to her. They did a good deal of anal sex now, more than Beth had ever done with any other lover. Marlo obviously favored taking her that way, and Beth had grown to enjoy it as much as anything else because Marlo liked it so much. Beth's greatest need was to have Marlo show an intense passion during their fucking, and when Marlo had her cock in Beth's ass her passion was indeed intense.

I belong to her, Beth thought; I truly belong to her.

After they left the restaurant, they walked awhile in Washington Square Park. When evening finally came, Marlo suggested they go to a bar. "I know a place in the East Village."

She took Beth to a dyke leather bar, a place crowded even though it was still early, crowded with tough looking women of all shapes and sizes and reeking with a smell of female sweat and stale beer.

Beth felt out of place, much too uptownish, nervously aware of the way some of the leather-clad butches leered at her.

The music was loud and the lighting weird. Marlo found a booth and they ordered drinks, but even as they sat in the booth Beth felt the eyes on her.

It seemed many of the women knew Marlo, and at intervals one brawny woman or another would stop by to chat with Marlo, looking Beth over with a glance that said Beth belonged to Marlo, Beth was Marlo's property, Marlo's woman.

Marlo seemed amused at the interest Beth generated, and after a while, when a woman was at the table talking to Marlo and eyeing Beth at the same time, Marlo told Beth to dance with the woman. "Go on," Marlo said. "I'm too tired. Get up there and dance with her."

It was definitely an order, an order punctuated by a stare from Marlo that said she wanted Beth to obey her.

Beth rose, and the burly woman led her out to the dance floor.

"You're a dish," the woman said. "What's your name, honey? I'm Georgie."

They danced facing each other, their bodies weaving to the beat of the music, Georgie smiling as her eyes roved over Beth's breasts and hips.

"Nice tits, baby."

Beth blushed under the woman's gaze. Georgie put her hands on Beth's waist as they danced, but she never did more than that and Beth was thankful for it.

After a while another woman broke in, said it was okay with Marlo, and started dancing with Beth. This one was younger, a bit punky, with hair dyed purple on one side. She said her name was Coco, and during a break in the music she asked if Beth wanted to go downstairs with her.

"What's downstairs?"

"It's a recreation room," Coco said. "There's usually somebody fucking and we could watch them."

At that moment Marlo appeared, and Beth was relieved as Marlo took her away. They danced a slow number, Marlo gripping Beth's waist with her hands, sometimes pulling her close enough to graze the front of her shirt across Beth's breasts. The heavy sexual atmosphere in the place had made Beth hot and she wondered if Marlo could sense it.

When they finished dancing, Beth left Marlo and went to the washroom. There was only one woman inside and it was Coco. The purple-haired girl laughed and immediately pulled Beth into a stall and locked the door.

"You're a fucking doll," Coco said. She kissed Beth, her hands all over Beth's ass, and then one hand sliding around front to rub Beth's cunt through her dress. "Need to piss, baby? Come on, I'll help you."

Beth was paralyzed with astonishment as Coco got her skirt up and her panties down. Coco forced her to sit on the toilet, squatting to get her hand on Beth's cunt. "Come on, baby, piss on my hand."

More astonished than ever, unable to hold back, Beth let go and shuddered as she felt the stream gush out of her and into the girl's waiting hand.

Coco loved it. She moaned and kissed Beth as the piss flowed. She pushed her fingers inside Beth's cunt and worked Beth's clit with her thumb until Beth came on her hand.

Afterward, when they were out of the stall and at the sinks, Beth blushed as Coco sniffed her fingers and smiled at her.

In a daze, Beth quickly repaired her makeup and left the washroom.

When she was in the booth beside Marlo again, Marlo slid a hand under Beth's skirt and petted her through her panties.

"Want another drink?"

"Yes, why not?" She felt guilty about what had happened in the washroom, guilty that she hadn't prevented it. As if to make up for it, she opened her legs to encourage Marlo's hand.

Marlo said nothing, but her fingers immediately became more firm against Beth's sex. Then after a while Marlo said, "You're dripping, lover. Go on, get one off."

Beth came as Marlo pinched and rubbed her clit through her panties.

Marlo seemed pleased and told her to touch herself. "Feel the wet," Marlo said.

Beth hesitated, and then she slipped her own hand under her skirt to touch the wet crotch of her panties. She remembered the girl in the washroom, remembered how she'd pissed in the girl's hand. But she was more turned on by Marlo.

She panicked when Marlo told her to masturbate.

"Marlo, please... not here."

But Marlo insisted. "Especially here. It's what I want."

Beth did it. She closed her eyes and rubbed her cunt as Marlo watched her. Her panties were soaked, her fingers slimy with her juices. She felt helpless, completely in Marlo's control. And excited by it. When the orgasm finally arrived, she had to clench her teeth to prevent herself from crying out.

After that Marlo was bored with the music and the crowd and she said they could go to her place. "You can meet a friend of mine. Maybe you can whip up something to eat for us."

Beth wondered who the friend was, but she was too excited at the idea of going to Marlo's place to give it any thought. Marlo had never invited her before, she'd been there only once when Marlo had moved in, and Beth hoped it meant something. Marlo was such a private person, so closed about herself, never really telling Beth anything, always seeming to be in a state of high tension. Maybe at home Marlo would be more relaxed.

When they arrived at Marlo's small studio near Astor Place, Beth saw a blonde girl sitting on the sofa.

"This is Lucy," Marlo said. "She just came down from upstate yesterday and she's staying with me awhile."

PART FOUR

With a lazy yawn, Lucy sat up on the sofa. She was dressed in a tank top, an extremely short skirt, and black high-heeled pumps. She looked at Beth without emotion, as if she knew all about Beth and had expected her to arrive with Marlo. Beth, on the other hand, felt an intense jealousy as she realized she and this blonde girl were in competition for Marlo's attention.

"Are you from Milson Corners?" Beth asked.

"Sure," Lucy said.

Beth remembered the blonde girl she'd seen leaving Marlo's house that first day.

Marlo told Lucy to get her a beer. "Make sure it's cold," Marlo said. Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if ordering Lucy to do things was not unusual. And Lucy's response was the same: without a word, she rose and left them to walk into the kitchen.

"She's a sweet girl," Marlo said to Beth, not looking at Beth, but walking to a table to glance through the day's mail.

"Is she an artist?"

Marlo chuckled. "No, she's just a girl. She's looking for a job in New York."

When Lucy returned with Marlo's beer, Marlo fondled the girl's ass and Beth was shocked to see that Lucy was naked under the short skirt.

Marlo stroked the girl's buttocks as she sipped her beer, and then she put the beer down and she took Lucy in her arms and palmed the cheeks of her ass. Lucy's back was toward Beth, and Beth hated the girl as she watched Marlo's strong hands clutch the girl's bare flesh. Lucy tottered on her high heels as Marlo kissed her and worked her tongue in her mouth. The girl appeared to shudder with pleasure at being in Marlo's arms.

"Maybe I'd better go," Beth said.

Marlo broke the kiss and looked at her with steady eyes. "Just sit down, okay?"

Beth sat down on the sofa. She felt a great conflict, not knowing whether she ought to leave. No, she did not want to leave. If she left now she'd be surrendering, accepting defeat. She told herself she had no exclusive claim to Marlo. Not yet, anyhow. She watched Marlo and Lucy. Marlo was now hunching her pelvis at Lucy's belly, pushing her cock against Lucy's body. Beth remembered how Marlo's kisses always ravished her. Now it was Lucy who was being ravished. Beth's heart pounded as the blonde girl opened Marlo's pants and tugged the cock free.

Marlo turned to look at Beth. "Pay attention, honey. You can learn a few things from Lucy."

The blonde girl worked Marlo's cock with her hands. Beth looked at them transfixed. She felt more insecure than ever, her jealousy of Lucy burning in her vitals. But she was aroused by what was happening, definitely excited by it, captivated by the intensity of Marlo's lovemaking as she kissed Lucy again. The insides of Lucy's thighs glistened with her juices and Beth was turned on by it.

Marlo told Lucy to get her top off, and the girl obediently stripped to the waist.

Beth was immediately shocked by the girl's pierced nipples.

When Marlo saw Beth's reaction, she beckoned to Beth with her hand. "Come over here."

Filled with uncertainty, Beth walked to where they were standing, came close enough to have her shoulder clutched by Marlo's hand---and then she gasped as Marlo pushed her down to her knees.

Leaning against Marlo, Lucy watched it and said nothing.

"Teach her how to suck," Marlo said to Lucy. "Show her how to do it."

Lucy snickered. "Yeah."

Beth felt her heart pounding at her humiliation. She gazed with fascination at Lucy's ringed pink nipples and jutting young tits.

With an amused smirk, Lucy squatted beside Beth and said: "I'll show you how."

Lucy fondled the cock, her hand running up and down its length. Then she leaned forward to lick the tip, kissing it, getting it wet. Marlo made a sound of approval and moved her hips. Now Lucy opened her mouth to take the knob. Her lips rounded as she took more and more of the shaft between them.

Beth trembled with excitement as she watched it.

Then Lucy pulled back and told Beth to take the cock in her mouth. "Go on, it's your turn."

Marlo swayed her hips as Beth leaned forward to take the knob of the cock in her mouth.

"That's it," Marlo said. "Suck it, doll."

Beth took more and more of the shaft. Her lips spread around the thickness of the latex organ.

"Relax your throat," Lucy said. She coaxed Beth. "Marlo likes it all the way, so just relax your throat and take it."

Almost all of the cock vanished into Beth's mouth. She felt the tip pushing at the back of her throat. Her face was filled with Marlo's cock, her mind numbed by it. She gagged; she recovered; she went on with it.

Lucy rose to lean against Marlo and be kissed. Marlo pinched the girl's nipples and fondled her ass as Beth continued to suck the dildo.

Beth was enthralled by it now, swept away with pleasure as she moved her rounded lips back and forth on the long instrument. Marlo's cock. The tool that Marlo used to pleasure her women.

Marlo fondled Beth's head, thrusting with her pelvis, fucking Beth's mouth. The tall woman now had her fingers in Lucy's cunt, working the girl as she pistoned her cock in and out of Beth's willing mouth.

Marlo started coming. The event was cataclysmic for all of them. She groaned and shook and shuddered, and Beth had to back off a bit in order to avoid being hurt by the slamming cock.

But Beth kept the cock in her mouth, sucking it, loving every inch of it because it belonged to Marlo.

After that Marlo took the two women to bed with her. She had Lucy and Beth straddle her facing each other, Lucy taking Marlo's cock in her cunt while Beth settled her sex down on Marlo's mouth.

When Lucy leaned forward to kiss Beth mouth, Beth accepted it, and finally she put her hands on Lucy's breasts, holding them, feeling the ringed nipples against her palms.

Beth knew that nothing would ever be the same for her again. Marlo had changed everything.

Inevitably, Rita confronted Jul about Jul's affairs with other women. Jul seemed unsurprised, cool, quiet, so cool that Rita became infuriated and wanted to scream. They talked for hours and agreed to split. Jul would leave as soon as she found a place to live. Rita was happy it was over, then depressed as once more she realized her relationships never lasted.

After Jul moved out, Rita had days and nights alone, nothing but the gallery, her maid, the walls of the house to remind her she was part of the world. She envied Beth her passion for Marlo. Rita understood what it was; she understood the power Marlo had, the force that mesmerized Beth. Rita was certain she herself could never fall in love with a woman like that. But still she envied the passion Beth felt. A passion such as that wiped out a great deal of misery. But not with someone like Marlo, Rita thought; Marlo was too much. Rita adored strong women, but not if they were too dominant. She needed her own voice in her life; she needed her own territory.

She started visiting the girl bars again, the old places, the new places that had come into existence since the beginning of her affair with Jul. All that time without visiting a girl bar. She felt awkward in them. She hated them.

One evening, in a dyke hangout on Third Avenue, Rita noticed a blonde alone in a booth. Their eyes met, an electric meeting, the long cruising stare that always gave Rita the shivers. She sat at the bar and played the game, flirting with the blonde, imagining them together, imagining herself with the woman, imagining what the woman was like, her attitudes. Imagining things between long glances across the room. Rita told herself the blonde was the sort of woman who could make her forget Jul. But then who knew? You never could tell what you met in a bar. Hot in a bar and a stupid bore in a bedroom. The blonde looked sleek, strong, sure of herself. After a while the blonde rose, but not to approach Rita, merely to get a napkin from the bar. What a sleek looking butch, Rita thought. Maybe thirty, narrow hips, no breasts, long legs in tight jeans. Swaggering. Butch but not too butch. Just my type, Rita thought. Another ten minutes and Rita grabbed her purse and left the end of the bar to walk to the blonde.

The blonde looked her over.

Rita felt the alcohol in her brain as she slipped into the booth.

"You're alone," Rita said. She touched the blonde's arm.

The blonde nodded. "Yes." She sipped her martini. Cool as ice.

"You're beautiful," Rita said.

A smile. "Thank you."

"I hope you're gay."

A quiet laugh. "I was thinking the same about you. But then look where we are."

They talked. The blonde's name was Gayle and she was an attorney.

"I don't know anything about art," Gayle said.

Turned on by Gayle's hands, Rita stared at them. Strong hands, the nails without polish and clipped short. The hands of a lanky body. Hands that could do things. Rita felt a clutching response to the idea of Gayle's hands between her legs.

"I can make better martinis at home," Rita said.

Gayle nodded, her eyes unflinching. "I think I'd like that."

They walked out slowly, Rita feeling the eyes of everyone on them, even if no one appeared to be looking at them.

In the taxi they managed to steal a short kiss while the driver seemed distracted.

"You taste sweet," Gayle whispered. "Are you sweet everywhere?"

"I hope so."

Gayle's hand stroked Rita's knee.

When they finally arrived at Rita's address, Gayle was impressed by the townhouse. "It's lovely."

The maid was off and the house was all theirs. Rita said: "Do you really want another drink?"

Gayle smiled and kissed her as they stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the large living-room. Then Gayle slipped behind Rita and kissed her neck as they faced the mirror together. "I like mirrors," Gayle said.

She started undressing Rita, undoing the buttons of her blouse as they watched themselves in the mirror. Rita moaned as Gayle kissed her neck again. Gayle unbuttoned her blouse completely, and then unhooked her bra to get Rita's breasts exposed to the mirror.

Rita felt a great excitement. Gayle was much better than Jul, more adept, more aggressive.

She was thrilled at the sight of her breasts in the mirror, at the way Gayle's hands caressed them, at the movements of Gayle's fingers as they explored her thick nipples. Gayle lifted Rita's breasts, held them in her hands as her fingertips pinched the nipples.

Rita moaned.

Gayle continued undressing her. Skirt down. Shoes off. Pantyhose down. Kneeling behind her, Gayle gently bit one buttock. Rita stared at her own image in the mirror, her nakedness, her flushed face. Now Gayle slid around in front of Rita, still kneeling, kissing Rita's thighs as Rita looked at them both in the mirror over Gayle's head. She moved her thighs apart, an invitation to the hungry butch attorney now staring at her cunt like a wolf about to devour a meal.

Gayle dived in.

Her mouth pressed against Rita's wet garden, her face partially covered by Rita's bush.

Rita adored it.

She arched her pelvis forward, humping against Gayle's face, thrilled at the way Gayle worked her.

Good riddance to Jul.

The gallery was crowded, maybe a hundred buzzing people, milling, weaving, cocktail glasses tinkling. This was Marlo's one-woman show, her coming out in the New York art world. Chattering dilettantes wandered from one wall to another, peering at the paintings, nodding, tossing an asinine comment and then moving on. But more than enough bought what they liked, one painting after another marked sold. Sold. Sold. A great success for Marlo.

But she never lost her cool. She wore a western shirt, leather vest, jeans and boots. More than one woman drooled over the tall stunning butch artist. Beth made an effort not to be jealous, but she wasn't too successful. She hated it. All these women ogling Marlo made her feel so vulnerable.

Afterward they had a celebration party at Rita's townhouse, a hundred people again in Rita's rooms. The New York glitterati. Many of them had been at the gallery show, but others were people who managed to get invited to every party Rita had in her house. Did they like Rita? Did they like the house? They certainly didn't know anything about art.

Beth drank too much champagne and she felt herself up in a cloud, floating. Here, in Rita's house, a new batch of women flirted with Marlo. Beth watched them and felt miserable. How much of a claim did she really have on Marlo?

She finally managed to corner Marlo at the bar.

"I love you," Beth whispered.

Marlo smiled and looked down at Beth's breasts. "I like the dress."

"Aren't you happy?"

"Happy?"

"I mean about the show. Everything seemed to go, no matter what the price."

Marlo shrugged. "I suppose now I'll be able to fix the roof on the house."

"You're not thinking of leaving New York now, are you?"

"At some time, yes."

"You have more reason than ever to stay."

Marlo smiled again. "If I had any reason, it would be you. What's upstairs? Can we find a place to be alone?"

Beth knew what that look meant and she blushed. "Marlo, not here."

"Yes, here. I thought you said you were my woman."

"I am, but--"

"Come on now, we won't be missed at all."

Yielding to Marlo's persistence, Beth led the way upstairs. She wondered what Marlo had in mind. Marlo's unpredictability always thrilled her. What a perfect lover she was!

They found an empty bedroom, and inside it Marlo went to the adjoining bathroom to wash her face. "I'm bushed," she said. "I hate crowds." Then she called Beth, told her to come into the bathroom.

"You ought to be down at the party," Beth said, her voice uncertain, her heart pounding.

"I told you I don't like crowds."

Beth moved into Marlo's arms and Marlo kissed her, the kiss wet, hot, demanding. Marlo's hands slid down Beth's back to lift her dress in the rear, lift it to get her palms on Beth's buttocks.

Beth made a half-hearted protest. Of course it was no use. She was thrilled anyway, aroused by Marlo's hands, aroused by Marlo's cologne. Thrilled at the way Marlo's strong hands clutched and squeezed her ass. She was always such a pushover when she had a woman's hands on her ass.

Beth leaned back and said: "I don't like it when other women flirt with you."

Marlo looked amused. "You shouldn't let that bother you."

"I don't like it."

"Honey, you know I'm not into anything exclusive."

"Why, Marlo? Why can't you--"

"I told you it doesn't work for me."

Then she lifted Beth's dress in front to look at Beth's underpinnings, the sleek stockings, the long garter straps, the lilac lace garter belt.

"Mmm."

Beth blushed. She had dressed this way especially for Marlo. The approval in Marlo's eyes made her feel wonderful. "Oh Marlo."

"My lovely Beth. My lovely lovely Beth."

"I love you."

Marlo's fingertips lightly stroked Beth's cunt through her panties. Beth closed her eyes, shuddering with delight as Marlo gently rubbed the swollen lips. Beth imagined she could smell her own arousal. She arched her pelvis forward.

Marlo spoke in a throaty voice. "You're hot, baby."

"For you, Marlo."

"Show me."

Beth's hands trembled as she pulled the crotch of her flimsy panties aside and opened her cunt with her fingers.

Marlo gazed down at it, at the pink groove wet and glistening. "I love your cunt."

Beth groaned and gave her more, opening her legs, stretching her lips even further apart.

Marlo touched the hood of Beth's clitoris with her forefinger, just a light grazing, then a firmer stroke along the shaft, until finally she tugged the foreskin back to expose the pink jewel of the head.

Beth moaned. She could see it. With her neck bent, she gazed down at herself and watched Marlo's finger as it played with her clitoris.

A cry of pleasure escaped Beth's lips as she felt the other fingers slide easily into her wet opening.

All the way inside. She squirmed on Marlo's hand.

Marlo said: "Have you ever been fisted?"

Beth's heart pounded. "No. You know how inexperienced I am."

"Maybe someday we'll try it."

But at the moment Marlo wanted something else. Her fingers moved inside Beth, stroking in and out, fucking her at the same time as her thumb and forefinger manipulated Beth's swollen clitoris. Beth came hard, almost buckling on her high heels, her head supported by Marlo's shoulder as she rocked her pelvis through the intense orgasm.

"Oh God."

"Get on the bed," Marlo said. "And off with the panties."

Beth no longer cared about the party downstairs, about whether or not they'd be missed. She walked to the bed, lifted her dress and quickly removed her panties. Marlo helped her settle herself on her back on the edge of the bed, and then Marlo went down on her knees on the floor to take Beth's legs on her shoulders.

She traveled around Beth's cunt, opening it, looking at it, teasing Beth about how wet she was. "Such a stiff little clit," Marlo said. "Such a horny little girl." She pushed three fingers inside, then pulled them out and slipped one finger into Beth's ass and the other two fingers back in her cunt. Then she leaned forward to lick and suck Beth's dripping little pussy until she had Beth bouncing on the bed in a climax.

At that moment the door opened and someone gasped in surprise.

It was Rita, standing there staring at them, Beth turning her head to stare back at her in shock.

Rita giggled. "Really, I'm sorry." She spun around and left, the door closing behind her.

Beth groaned. "Oh hell."

"Forget it," Marlo said. "It serves her right for not knocking."

"It's her house."

"And we're using one of the bedrooms. Come on, give me some more."

"Marlo, please..."

"No, give me some more."

Marlo's fingers worked again, worked in both openings as she watched Beth's face. When Beth came, Marlo leaned over Beth and kissed Beth's mouth and told her how much she loved her.

Lucy wandered into a swank boutique in the Village. It was a hot, damp day, everyone sweating, but the boutique was cool and clean and smelled faintly of roses.

At a rack of clothes, Lucy idly pushed the hangers along the bar. Over in a corner, two women stood talking, one tall and thin, the other short and chunky. They looked at Lucy as they talked, and after a while the chunky woman ambled over.

"Hi. Can I help you with anything? I did this rack myself. I'm the designer."

"The designer?"

The woman chuckled, her shoulders moving, her big breasts vibrating under an ample silk blouse. "Well, someone has to design the clothes, don't they? That's what I do. Are you a model? You've certainly got the body for it. Sure, you're a model, aren't you?"

Lucy smiled. "No, I'm not."

"I think you're pretending."

"I mean it, I'm not."

"My name's Val."

She was a husky butch with short hair and muscles and a seductive voice that would seem intimate if she were reading the telephone book.

"I'm Lucy."

"Hi, Lucy."

Lucy looked at the butch's hands. Expressive hands that looked strong and soft at the same time.

"You really ought to be a model," Val said.

Lucy laughed. "I wouldn't mind it. I bet it's glamorous."

Val flirted with her, touched her arm, said she thought Lucy would look beautiful in some of the clothes she designed. The flirting was of the no nonsense kind and Lucy knew exactly what was happening, and when Val finally asked Lucy to come to her studio to try on some clothes, Lucy nodded.

"When?" Lucy said.

"Right now," Val answered. "My studio is part of my apartment."

"Oh."

"Are you afraid of me?"

Amused, Lucy touched Val's heavy silver necklace. "Are you sure you can handle me?"

A sigh came out of Val, a long sigh of happy victory. "I'll try, honey."

Val lived in a large midtown apartment with a balcony overlooking the East River. She brought out cold beer and said Lucy might want to cool off in a shower. "There's a robe and towels in the bathroom, sweets. Just call if you need anything."

Of course it was merely an invitation to clean up, which Lucy didn't mind at all because she liked to be fresh for her butches. She wasn't like some girls she knew. And Val wasn't messy like Marlo. Val was neat and clean herself, something evident to anyone who looked around her apartment. Lucy resented the way Beth never bothered to tidy up in Marlo's place, always tossing things around as if it was understood Lucy would keep the place decent. Lucy thought Beth was a bitch who had got her hooks into Marlo when Marlo ought to know better. Marlo always talked about how she hated New York people and here she was fucking one of them and obviously liking it. What surprised Lucy was that she wasn't as jealous as she might have been a few months ago, maybe because she was getting to like New York and she understood now Marlo wasn't the only butch in the world who might do it for her.

Val might do it for her. After the shower, Lucy put on the fluffy robe and rejoined Val in the sun-filled living room. Val was still dressed, standing near a table with a beer can in one hand.

Val said: "Do you want to try on clothes now?"

"Whatever you want."

"Maybe later."

Lucy smiled. Barefooted, she walked over to Val with her eyes on Val's big breasts. "Are you going to be tough with me?"

"Is that what you like? You're pretty advanced for someone so young."

"Mmm."

Lucy was close enough now to be almost touching Val's body with her own. She put her hands on Val's shoulders, and then she slid her hands down and she started unbuttoning Val's shirt.

Val was amused. She stood there and let the girl do what she liked. When the shirt came off, she pulled her shoulders back to show her big breasts filling the full-cut white bra.

The heavy tits excited Lucy, and she felt as though she were about to unwrap a Christmas present. She moved behind Val to get her unhooked, and then stepped in front of Val again to pull away the loose bra.

Val knew the effect she produced. Her breasts were a pair of heavy delights. She pulled her shoulders back again, proud of her tits and happy to see the lust in Lucy's eyes.

"You like these, don't you, honey?" She placed a hand under each breast and lifted them as though offering them to the girl. "Come on, let's sit down on the sofa awhile."

After Val sat down, Lucy stretched out on her back with her head in Val's lap and her face turned up to Val's breasts. Their needs matched as though they'd known each other for years. Cupping her right breast with her right hand, Val leaned forward to get her fat tumescent nipple in Lucy's mouth. "Suck it, baby. I love it when they're sucked."

Lucy buried her face in the warm pillow of Val's breast, and Val held her, hugging her maternally as she sucked at the nipple that was almost the size of a thumb. Val moaned as Lucy's teeth nipped at the areola. "Oh, you bitch, suck it," Val said, her free hand sliding under Lucy's robe to get her fingers in Lucy's cunt and test the wetness.

Lucy loved the feel of the big woman, loved the feel of the tit in her mouth. She felt comforted. But she still needed a fuck, and pulling her knees up, she opened them wide to let Val know what she wanted.

Val chuckled. She cupped Lucy's cunt, pulled her breast out of Lucy's mouth and bent her head to give the girl a hot deep kiss. "Eager for it, aren't you?"

"Make me come."

Val's hand moved over Lucy's wet sex. Her finger started rubbing Lucy's clit, pressing the shaft, sliding the sheath back and forth. Lucy shuddered, arched her back and came hard.

Val kissed her again. Then she told Lucy to get off her lap and they rose together. "Why don't you get out of the robe so I can look at you?"

Lucy slipped out of the robe and pressed her body against Val's, against the pillows of Val's breasts. She hid her face in Val's shoulder. She felt a great pull toward this maternal woman, something she hadn't felt with a woman before, never with Marlo.

Val wanted to look at her. She made Lucy step back, and Lucy blushed as Val looked her over.

"You really ought to be a model, honey."

"I don't know anything about it."

"Maybe you can go to school." Val playfully tweaked Lucy's little tits. She made Lucy turn to show her ass and passed her hand over the firm curves of Lucy's buttocks. "You're gorgeous. Come on, let's go to the bedroom."

She led Lucy by the hand.

Lucy's eyes were on Val's heavy breasts as they climbed onto the bed. Val kissed her, fucking her mouth with her tongue, forcing Lucy's head down to the pillow. Open, receptive, Lucy felt a wave of pleasure building in her belly.

Then she headed for the big brown nipples. She filled her mouth with a heavenly tit, sucking at it like a hungry babe.

Val held her, cradling her, lifting her breast to Lucy's ravenous mouth. She knew what the girl needed. She stroked Lucy's face as Lucy sucked her breast.

Lucy suddenly pulled away, smiled at Val with a mischievous look. Facing away from Val, she knelt on all fours. "Come on, fuck me."

Val was amused. She was in no hurry. She left the bed to strip off the rest of her clothes.

Lucy looked at her, suddenly hot as she watched the chunky woman don a hip strap and a thick lavender colored dildo.

"Nice toy," Lucy said, lewdly wagging her hips.

Val chuckled. "Just be patient now. I like to take my time." She put some lube on the cock, working it along the length of the shaft with her fingers. Then she climbed onto the bed behind Lucy and lowered her face to sniff the girl's ass and cunt.

Lucy groaned as she felt Val nuzzling into her crack. She could feel Val's face against her ass, her warm breath. She pushed her ass backward, loving the intimate attention, her juices flowing as Val licked her cunt and sucked her essence.

Then Val positioned the dildo, and Lucy moaned as it went in slowly to fill her vagina.

Val held the girl's hips, pushing inside as far as she could go. Lucy's cunt was like a spread mouth sucking the lavender shaft. She kneaded Lucy's ass, her thumbs stroking into the crack and around the sliding cock. She started pumping, working the cunt with her cock, Lucy squealing as she felt the dildo ramming her insides with just the right amount of pressure.

Val leaned over her, hissing: "You love it, don't you, baby?"

"Yes!"

Her big breasts were on Lucy's back, the pillows rubbing Lucy's spine.

Lucy started tossing her ass around when she came, and Val had to straighten up and hold on. She continued pumping, grinding her clit into the back end of the dildo, coming with Lucy, coming hard against the femme's perfect little ass with her hands gripping Lucy's waist as they rode it out.

Later, as they lay in each other's arms, Lucy said: "You came, didn't you?"

"I always come doing that."

"I wish you could fuck me forever."

"Move in here and I will."

"I'm sort of involved."

"I was afraid of that."

"But maybe I need to get out of it. Do you really want me?"

Val's answer was to go down on her. She hiked Lucy's legs over her shoulders as Lucy lay on her back, and she dipped down to get her mouth on Lucy's sweet cunt. The dildo had left Lucy's cunt loose and warm, and Val was able to get her tongue deep inside as Lucy started moaning again.

Lucy stayed the weekend. They had hours and hours of hot sex, Val doing everything she could to please the girl. She worked Lucy in every room in the apartment, including on top of the kitchen counter, and on the living room rug with Lucy half standing on her head. When Lucy asked for it, she tied Lucy's hands and fucked her ass with her lavender cock. She promised to send Lucy to school and get her work as a fashion model, provided Lucy moved in permanently and became her wife.

Lucy had visions of success. She loved being mothered by Val. She loved being fucked by Val. When she finally told Marlo about Val, Marlo was angry.

"You'll become just another New York slut," Marlo said.

But she saw the affection Lucy had for Val, and she told herself maybe the girl would be better off with this new butch.

Val, at least, was willing to live with someone.

Of course Rita's affair with the attorney didn't last. Rita hoped it would last, but the hope was doomed. In the beginning the sex was good. They had fun evenings at films, at the theater, at intimate dinners in exotic little restaurants. Gayle was attentive, an ideal companion, always ready to listen to Rita's account of her day at the gallery, never pushing to talk about her law practice because she knew Rita would find it completely boring. But there were times when Gayle seemed distant, not always ready for sex when Rita wanted it. Gayle had her moods in the bedroom. Rita thought Gayle didn't go down on her enough. Rita loved having that blonde head down there sucking at her wet pussy. When Gayle sucked her, Rita always had a strong orgasm. But Gayle never seemed that eager for it. Which Rita found strange in a butch, since all the butches she'd known had been only too eager to suck her dry. And Gayle never seemed enthusiastic about using a dildo. She looked unhappy whenever Rita suggested Gayle use a strap-on cock. She lectured Rita about lesbian politics, about how lesbians should avoid cocks. Rita tried to convince her all that was passe. Rita loved getting fucked; she loved a hard fucking that made her dizzy. She hated thinking about Jul, but sometimes she missed the way Jul used to bounce her around on the bed. Thinking about Jul ramming her, turned Rita on. What Gayle liked best was masturbating together, watching each other. She seemed to love watching Rita doing it. They would sit facing each other, drink some wine, get high, and then watch each other work their fingers in their cunts. Gayle would talk Rita through an orgasm, and then Gayle would come herself with her eyes closed and her fingers rubbing her clit fast and hard to the end. Rita liked it at first, she liked watching Gayle, but then it became boring. It was all too predictable. Whenever they spent an evening together, Rita would know exactly what the sex would be like. No surprises with Gayle. And Rita thought that if she had to get herself off with her own fingers, what did she need Gayle for? A solid relationship needed zest, and whatever zest had existed in the beginning between them soon dissipated. So when Gayle would telephone to set up a date, Rita started putting her off. After three or four times, Gayle understood what was happening and she stopped calling. At least the affair ended without trouble. Rita hated it when she had trouble at the end of a relationship.

One day Rita had some work done on the wiring in the townhouse, and she met Pat, a butch electrician. She was a lanky blonde with a confident air, her body moving like a cowboy, long legs and work boots, looking very tough with all those tools attached to a belt around her waist.

Rita made the first move. She flirted. She brought Pat coffee as she worked, and then she convinced her to have a beer. Rita had suggested a martini, but Pat wanted a beer. Not too classy, Rita thought. But she found that attractive. She was tired of professional dykes. Here was an unpretentious Irish working class butch without pretensions.

The next time their eyes met, Rita said: "I just broke up with someone. It just didn't work out with her."

Pat made a noncommittal sound in her throat.

Was she interested or not?

Rita said: "You're gay, aren't you?"

Pat smiled. She had clean white teeth and Rita was more interested than ever.

Pat said: "What do you think?"

"Just making sure."

"It's a nice house."

"It's really too big."

"A palace."

"Are you living with anyone?"

"Not right now."

"Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

Pat hesitated. "Why don't I finish the job and come back at six? I've got one more call to make."

Rita passed the remainder of the afternoon waiting for six o'clock. When Pat finally returned and stood there in the doorway, Rita decided the wait was worth it.

"We've got the house to ourselves," Rita said.

"No maid?"

"Sure, but she's off today."

"It must be nice being rich."

"It has it's advantages."

"I bet it does."

Pat's hair was still damp from a shower. Rita caught a faint whiff of Old Spice. Pat seemed more shy than earlier, more tender. Rita wondered if this could be something. Pat looked so appealing, Rita yearned for her.

"I won't scream if you kiss me," Rita said.

Beth said: "Marlo, I can't go on like this."

"Go on like what?"

"You know what I mean. I'm here sometimes and I'm not here other times. I want us to have a life together."

"Baby, we do have a life together. We're together almost every day, aren't we?"

"I need emotional security in my life."

"Everyone does."

"Then why can't we live together? You can move in with me, or I can move in here, or we can find a larger apartment."

"You know I'm not doing that."

"Why not?"

"Aren't you happy when you're with me?"

"Yes!"

"And the sex is good?"

"Yes, the sex is good."

"Then why spoil it? We're doing fine now, and it's no time to spoil it."

"I want to live with you."

"Maybe you don't like the idea that I see other women."

"That too. Why should I like that?"

"You're too traditional. You know I'm not like that."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, I love you. You're the only reason I'm still here in New York."

"If you loved me, you wouldn't see anyone else."

"Don't try to change me, Beth. Don't try."

"Is this all I'll ever have of you?"

"There's nothing more to give, love. There really isn't."

Rita said: "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Beth said. "It's finished. I told her I won't see her any more. It's really finished."

"Poor baby. If you ask me, it was inevitable. I never thought she'd be any good for you."

"I feel so miserable."

"Come on home with me. We'll have a drink with Pat, and then we'll all go to dinner somewhere."

"You're so lucky to have Pat, Rita."

"Yes, I know."

Pat had been living with Rita two months, and Rita was beginning to think it was permanent.

They had dinner in a Chinese restaurant on Lexington Avenue, and after that they went back to Rita's house and Rita fixed Beth a double martini. "Just what you need, honey. Two or three of these and you'll be on top of the world again."

It was better than dope, but after the second martini, Beth felt more miserable than ever. She was drunk, but still miserable. And watching the affection between Rita and Pat did not help at all.

"I think I'd better go home," Beth said.

Rita wouldn't allow it. She said Beth was too tight. They had an extra bedroom, there was no need to go anywhere, it was better not to be alone right after you break up with someone.

Smirking, looking at Pat, then smirking at Beth again, Rita said: "Maybe Pat and I can cheer you up. Pat?"

"Whatever you want, lover."

"Oh no," Beth said, as high as a kite but still guessing what Rita intended. She knew Rita, knew that look in Rita's eyes.

All three had been occupying individual armchairs in Rita's large living room, but now Rita left her chair and she came to Beth and knelt on the rug to remove Beth's shoes.

"Poor little baby," Rita said. "Sweet little toes. We'll make you feel good."

Beth was too weak, mentally and physically too weak to resist anything. She remembered the good times she and Rita had had when they'd been lovers. That seemed ages ago. Even if it hadn't lasted too long, the connection had been there. She moved her legs apart when Rita wanted it. Rita stroked her calves and knees and thighs, and before long Rita was giggling as she struggled to get Beth's pantyhose removed. "Come on, help me," Rita said, and Beth obliged by lifting her hips to get herself stripped. She looked at Pat, but Pat lay sprawled in her chair with her eyes almost closed and no expression at all on her face. Pat didn't seem to care one way or the other what they were doing.

Rita caressed Beth's legs, hands massaging her feet, ankles, calves, knees, and thighs. Beth had memories of Rita doing this years ago. She parted her knees as Rita bent forward to kiss her thighs. She watched everything. That brunette head bent over her lap. The feel of Rita's wet lips on the insides of her thighs. Rita leaned back and pulled Beth forward, and Beth was suddenly afraid she was not clean. She hadn't showered since this morning. She remembered Rita was always finicky about cleanliness, but at this moment Rita didn't seem to care about it. Not at all. Beth whimpered as she felt Rita's tongue burrowing like a snake between her labia.

Her knees in the air, Beth looked at Pat and she saw Pat still looking apathetic, eyes drooping, body stretched out with her long legs on the floor. Cowboy boots. The boots reminded Beth of Marlo. Rita's nose was now rubbing Beth's clit, back and forth, back and forth, a rhythm that Rita knew only too well would make Beth come. "Come for me," Rita said, her voice muffled against Beth's cunt. She kept her face moving against Beth's wetness, making sucking noises with her mouth, really into it. Beth was so drunk she almost giggled at the noise, but she caught herself in time. Rita was working her so well, she was afraid to do anything that might make Rita stop. She was wide open now, her knees high in the air, heels just touching Rita's shoulders, her neck bent as she watched Rita's nose rubbing back and forth on her clit. She came again, Rita carrying her through it, sucking like mad when Beth gushed on her lips.

Abruptly, Rita pulled away and looked at Pat. "Come on, Pat. Make her forget her troubles." Pat unwound on her chair, coming to life, rising, long legs crossing the carpet as Beth lay sprawled with a third martini in one hand, dress pulled back to her belly, knees wide apart, showing everything. Through the haze of alcohol, Beth was still ambivalent about Pat. Did she want Pat to fuck her? Then Pat was there, on her knees in front of Beth, the angular Irish face, the eyes gazing with interest at Beth's already worked over cunt. Pat's head came down, and Beth groaned as she felt the first broad sweep of the strong tongue. Oh yes, this was something special. The tongue was everywhere, like a wriggling fish between her labia, swiping over her clit. Beth rocked her raised knees. For a long moment, she imagined it was Marlo working her, then caught herself, stunned at the substitution. Naughty girl, you shouldn't do that. Not fair. Closing her eyes because Pat's tongue was now slapping her anus, wet slaps and then a dip inside, then pulling back to slap again. Pat's fingers were on Beth's cunt, her thumb sliding into the opening, her forefinger working the shaft of Beth's clit as her tongue curled in and out of Beth's tight little bottom...

In the dark night, Beth opened her eyes without any memory of the end of it, her head pounding, one of Rita's thighs like a ton of bricks on her belly, Pat somewhere else, maybe in another room. Beth crawled out from under Rita's thigh, staggered in the dark to the bathroom to vomit up the Chinese dinner into Rita's art deco bathroom sink. Beth's face in the mirror. Is that you, Beth? Can't go on, she thought. Got to end it because I can't go on. Got to end it. Got to get out. Got to go somewhere...

PART FIVE

When Alex walked down Castro Street, she liked to think she was looked at. Five years ago, when she'd first arrived in San Francisco, she'd wanted the opposite, anonymity, the comfort of being just another dyke on the street, a comfort she'd never known before, never known anywhere. Now, however, she wanted the eyes, wanted the attention, wanted the individuality.

She was tall and lean, part Shoshone Indian (the good part, she thought), and when people looked at her, when people watched her walking on Castro Street, she often reminded them of a pagan apparition. She wore her dark hair tied in a single long braid, and around her throat and wrists there was always heavy worked silver of some kind or another, Italian or Mexican, jewelry befitting a goddess of ancient and mysterious rites. But even goddesses needed to work, and this one earned her living as a social case worker for the City of San Francisco, currently Assistant Director of a special unit concerned with homeless women.

It was now dusk, the business rush hour finished, the evening crowds on Castro Street not yet arrived, and when Alex walked into the Tulip Bar, she was not surprised to find the place nearly empty. But all she wanted now was a cold beer, and so when she walked up to the bar and ordered a draft, she hardly even looked at the blonde sitting at the bar about ten feet away. Then the beer came, and after the first long drink to appease her thirst, Alex wiped her mouth with a napkin and looked at the blonde again. Interesting. New. Maybe thirty. Maybe straight. Good face. Good legs. Everything else more or less hidden. And maybe alone.

Alex hated rejection. She hardly ever attempted to pick up strange women, not a cold pick-up anyway, since she knew enough people to arrange an introduction if it was someone she'd never spoken to before. There was a time when she'd been able to gamble a pitch at any woman who looked available, an ability energized by an almost frantic need for sexual contact. One suffered the rejections in order to gain the acceptances. But no more. She was too drained now after a series of bad relationships, and these days she had learned how to cultivate masturbation to make it work for her. No more frantic one-night stands, the hell with that. She would rather use her fingers or a vibrator, anything except allow her clit to rule her life.

But the blonde did look interesting. Very femme if she was indeed gay. Cute, sexy, intelligent looking, and the legs were marvelous.

When their eyes met for the third time, Alex said: "I haven't seen you here before."

"First time," the blonde said. And then she added: "I'm new in San Francisco, actually."

"Oh?"

The blonde laughed. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing, I guess. Can I buy you a drink? My name's Alex."

"Yes, you can buy me a drink. And my name's Beth."

They sat in a booth near the front entrance. That was Alex's favorite spot, because later when the room became crowded, one could avoid the constant traffic of women going to or returning from the two washrooms near the kitchen in the back.

Beth drank whiskey sours and Alex drank draft beer.

"What are you doing in San Francisco?" Alex said.

"A new job in an art gallery." Beth mentioned a place near Market Street. "I was in a gallery in New York and I now I'm here."

"Is the work interesting?"

"Very."

"That's good."

"And what do you do?"

"I'm a social worker."

"Now that's really interesting."

Alex laughed. "Most of the time it's boring."

Alex wanted to kiss her ears where they peeked out between the strands of wavy blonde hair. Not too blonde. Dark blonde and some brown. Hair that looked fresh and sweet. A perfect mouth colored by a light red lipstick.

Beth said: "So far I like San Francisco very much."

Alex sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't say this, but I'll say it anyway. I'm assuming you're gay."

Beth smiled. "Oh yes. And what about you?"

"I think you already know I am."

"Well, maybe..."

"Are you with anyone?"

"Not for months. I'm still recovering, if you know what I mean."

Alex drained her beer glass. "Oh, I know, all right. I know all about recovering. The trouble is there's always a piece of you that never gets returned. What about dinner? Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Alex took Beth to an Italian restaurant that had the best lasagna in town. The lights were dim, the table had a candle on it, and the evening became romantic. Alex was never sure about how to romance a new woman, because she'd learned you could never predict anything. Sometimes they loved it, sometimes they thought it was corny, sometimes they acted like robots and they seemed oblivious to everything. She wanted very much to go to bed with Beth because Beth turned her on, but she was also afraid of coming on too strong. She encouraged herself by thinking Beth would have turned down the dinner invitation if she had no interest in sex. But Alex knew there were all kinds of crazy, unpredictable, neurotic women in San Francisco, and you could take nothing for granted.

After dinner, Beth agreed to go along with Alex to a dyke bar where they could dance. Alex had chosen this place because they did more slow dancing than the others, and she wanted Beth in her arms. She was so hot now, she was worried she would start shaking as soon as she felt Beth's body against her own. But once they were on the dance floor, she felt more secure and she concentrated on turning Beth on. As they pressed against each other, she rubbed Beth's back with her hands, and whenever she had the opportunity she pushed her thigh between Beth's legs and made an obvious sexual movement as she kissed or licked Beth's ear. God, she loved how her hair smelled! Alex was so turned on now, she could feel her juices running each time she moved her legs. Finally, she couldn't take it any more, and she said: "Let's go somewhere. Can we go to my place?"

Beth pulled back a bit and looked at her. "Can we do that some other time? I've got a tremendous headache, and I think I'd like to go home."

Alex covered her disappointment by immediately turning to lead Beth off the dance floor. "Sure, whatever you say. Come on, I'll take you home."

They said nothing to each other in the taxi, but when they were standing on the landing outside Beth's apartment, Beth allowed herself to be kissed and Alex thought there was still a chance. She slid her tongue into Beth's mouth, and Beth accepted it. When her hands dropped down to hold Beth's buttocks, Beth accepted that too.

"Let me come inside," Alex said.

Beth squirmed in her arms. "Please... I told you..."

Alex pulled away. "All right. Sorry. Maybe I'll see you around."

And with that Alex turned and hurried down the steps, cursing, telling herself she was a fool for being taken in by a tease, doubting now that Beth was even a lesbian. Maybe she was just another straight bummer teasing a dyke for the amusement, something to do, whatever.

She had trouble finding a taxi, and then as she sat in the corner in the back of the cab she wanted to cry. Oh shit, don't cry, she thought. Don't cry, baby, you'll survive it. She sat in the dark with her hand in her crotch, her fingers squeezing her cunt through the tight denim of her jeans. It wasn't just the sex, it was that she'd wanted so much to be with someone tonight. Tonight, for some reason, she felt more lonely than in a long while, and what made it worse was that she hated the idea that she did not know how to live with herself. She couldn't believe that people who knew how to live with themselves ever felt lonely like this.

When she arrived home, she stripped off her clothes and she lay down on the bed in the dark and started masturbating. But it didn't work. She tried it on her back, and then she rolled over and tried humping her cunt against her fingers. No good. She did not want the vibrator. Oh hell. She pulled the sheet over her head and she fell asleep.

The next day was Saturday, and at ten o'clock in the morning the telephone rang. Alex was still bleary-eyed when she lifted the phone, and at first she did not recognize the voice.

"Who?"

"It's Beth. You remember me, don't you? We were together last night."

"Oh yes."

"If you're not busy now, I'd like to come over."

"How did you get my phone number?"

"I looked in the phone book."

Alex felt stupid. Stupefied. Pleased. "Do have my address?"

"That's in the phone book too."

"I suppose you think I'm stupid," Beth said as she looked around the small living room, the bay window, the view of a steep hill that seemed to end abruptly. Magazines and books were strewn everywhere. "Did you think I was stupid last night?"

"No. I was just disappointed."

Beth smiled and came closer. "Well, I'm here now."

Knowing it still might be dangerous, Alex accepted the offer and took Beth in her arms. The first kiss was light, breezy, tentative, without commitment. Then Beth arched her pelvis forward, and the pressure produced a sudden explosion of desire in Alex. She tightened her embrace and kissed fiercely, mashing her lips against Beth's, her tongue insistent, aggressive, leaving no room for ambiguity. Beth moaned under the attack, and she appeared to go limp. But Alex held her, supported her, kissed her again, and this time Alex dropped her hands to Beth's buttocks and gripped them hard through Beth's dress.

"I want you," Alex said.

"Make love to me, please..."

"Oh yes."

There, in the sunlight streaming in through the bay window, Alex stripped Beth down to her bra and panties. She stopped then, and for a while she did nothing but kiss Beth everywhere, wet kisses, biting kisses, crouching to run her lips over Beth's knees and thighs, rising again to kiss her belly above the elastic waistband of her panties, rising further to kiss the hollow between Beth's breasts where the brassiere left it uncovered. When she finally removed the brassiere, Beth's nipples were like hard little nuggets under her tongue. She took each nipple in her mouth in turn, bit them gently, sucked them, made them swell even further, and as she did this she trailed her hand down between Beth's thighs, her fingers tickling the panty- covered mound, down and under to feel the seeping wetness, the proof of Beth's excitement.

She wanted to sniff at her. She crouched in front of Beth and boldly sniffed at the joining of her thighs. Beth groaned, arched her back and opened her thighs. "Yes!"

Alex nuzzled in and bit the swollen labia through the wet cotton. Her hands were on Beth's buttocks again, her fingers tracing the curves of her firm ass, pressing the globes, squeezing them.

Abruptly, she pulled at the waistband of Beth's panties and peeled them down. Beth swayed, held onto Alex's shoulder as she stepped out of the panties. Alex tossed them away and immediately buried her face in the blonde garden. She sniffed it, inhaled deeply, pushed her nose against the soft wet lips. Honey-dripper, Alex thought. She held back the urge to lick and suck. She would do that later. First something quick. She rose to take Beth's mouth with her own. Beth moaned under the kiss, and then moaned again as Alex's hand closed over her cunt.

Her mouth still plastered against Beth's, Alex started working her, two fingers inside the wetness, her thumb on Beth's clit, her wrist shaking as she caught the signals that she was doing Beth perfectly. Sucking hard at Alex's tongue, Beth humped her pelvis against the hand that possessed her. When she came, her body shook from head to toe, jerking, twisting, a spasmodic climax so intense it sent an electric jolt into Alex's belly.

They lay naked on Alex's bed. Beth was on her back, her knees up, her feet on Alex's shoulders. Alex's fingers moved inside Beth's vagina as she leaned over to taste her. Beth shivered. Bending lower, Alex parted the hair with her free hand. Only one lamp was on, but it was enough to show everything, the pink flesh, the running juice, Beth's vagina gripping Alex's sliding fingers. Beth put her hands on Alex's head, and Alex lowered her mouth to the pink lips. She blew her warm breath against the folds and Beth moaned in response. She ran her tongue over the underside of Beth's clit and Beth gasped. Again. Her tongue teasing, sliding from side to side under the stiff promontory. She eased her fingers out of the hole and licked them, tasted Beth, smelled her. She rubbed her nose into the wet, down between the lips and then up again to smear the wetness over the stiff clit. Beth groaned and flung her knees wider. Alex lapped the juices on either side of the clit, her fingers back inside and moving slowly in and out. She could feel Beth's clit swelling as she sucked it softly, a hard little button between her soft lips, her fingers continually sliding in and out, in and out. Then her fingers were all the way out and her tongue moved down to the opening. Beth whimpered and humped upward as if to grab Alex's tongue with her cunt. Alex drank her, sucking the juices between her lips, slurping, not caring about the noise she made, her face wet, breathing on the wet cunt, the tip of her tongue flapping against it. Again. Again. Her tongue striking Beth's clit more firmly as Beth squirmed and pushed upward again. Slapping the clit now, slapping it with her tongue, Beth bucking up and down and up again. With her fingers, Alex pulled at the mound above the clit to get the flesh more exposed. Her tongue rapidly swiped from side to side, and suddenly Beth jerked and started coming, her cunt contracting on Alex's fingers, gripping them, Beth crying out as Alex's lips captured Beth's clit and held it prisoner. Under lock and key. She kept her face pressed against Beth's cunt as Beth continued coming.

"Let me do you."

"No."

"Oh god."

"What?"

"I hope you're not a damn stone butch. I hate stone butches."

"I'm not that way. I'm too strung out. I came before."

"You did?"

"I came while I was eating you. That never happens to me."

"I'm flattered."

"Don't run away."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good."

"You're different."

"Different than what? Other women?"

"My last, anyway."

"The one you're always thinking about?"

"Yes. But I'm not thinking about her now. I'm thinking about you."

"I need someone in my life."

Beth sighed, pressing her face into Alex's armpit. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

end

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