FRIDAY ^#4

Raven’s Nest

Nervous about Violet’s visit, Raven rushes around, picking up laundry, toys, and other landmines left by her six-year-old. She’s not ashamed of the mess but wants to make a good impression on her new lover. Having already straightened the pillows and props in the playroom, she tidies the entrance until the doorbell rings.

Violet plants a kiss on Raven’s lips before slipping off her shoes. Raven admires her white knee-high stockings, which compliment her short pink sundress.

“I thought we’d hang out in my playroom, around back.”

“Oooh, playroom.” Violet raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t get excited, it’s not a dungeon or anything. Nick converted the garage into a rehearsal space before we had the theater. Now I use it to work on the show.”

“Can I get a private performance?”

“I was hoping to get a little break from all things show related,” Raven says, running her hand through her hair.

Violet takes her eyes off Raven long enough to look around the house. “Is your husband home?”

“You want to meet Nick? He’s doing his own rehearsing right now.”

Violet raises her eyebrows. “What does he do?”

“He’s a multi-instrumentalist, but I think I hear his guitar.” Raven leads Violet through a hallway toward the muffled music. She cracks the door. “Honey . . . Violet’s here.” She swings it wide to reveal a muscular man perched on the bed, arms wrapped around an acoustic axe, straining his voice into a falsetto. He finishes the chorus before he stops strumming and smiles at the two women.

“Great voice,” Violet exclaims.

“It’s a new song, I’m working out the kinks.”

Raven greets her man with a casual peck on his forehead. “This is the woman I’ve been telling you about.”

“Uh-oh. What exactly has she told you?” Violet flirts.

Nick offers his hand from the guitar. “I hear you’re the teacher’s pet.”

“I had so much fun in the last two classes . . .” Violet says, smiling.

“And out of class . . .” Raven adds suggestively.

“Any big plans today?” Nick asks.

“I need a little rehearsal break, we’ll be in the playroom,” Raven says.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I wish I were gay…” Nick strums his guitar for emphasis as if he were making a joke onstage.

Violet takes the bait. “You mean you wish you were a lesbian?”

“No, dating women is too complicated. I wish I could go to a gay gym and see someone for a few seconds, and take them to the sauna for sex. I’m just not into guys.”

“Imagine how out of shape you’d be if you were always having sex instead of working out,” Raven teases.

Nick lowers his voice like he’s telling Violet a secret. “The truth is, the gym is just an excuse to check out chicks. Having sex is how I actually keep my body in shape.”

Violet is charmed by the whole exchange. “It’s great to see you two so open with each other.”

“After ten years of living with this Sacred Slut, you kind of have to be,” Nick jokes. Raven playfully squeezes Nick’s pectorals, and he takes it as the cue that they’re leaving. “Tell Damien I miss seeing him on Mondays.”

Violet says, “Oh, I almost forgot, he sends his love to you too.”

“Tell him he’s always welcome.”

Raven interrupts, “Sorry, Nick. It’s probably going to be a while before I’m ready to see him.”

“That’s cool. I just thought when you’re ready, we could double date… Anyway, tell him I miss him.”

Violet nods and follows Raven through the backyard, crunching dry leaves as they walk across the lawn to a separate building behind the house.

Inside, the walls of the playroom are painted like a sunset. The room is filled with colorful pillows and movable furniture. There is a bean bag, several blocks, a night table, and a chaise lounge that looks like a therapy couch. Violet’s attention is drawn directly to the futon. After surveying the space for the most suitable place to recline, Violet doesn’t just sit on the futon, her body becomes one with it.

“Your hubby is lovely. It’s refreshing to hear how he supports you. I guess most men would be stoked about their wives being bisexual, but they would probably ask, ‘Can I watch?’”

Raven closes the door to the outside world and says, “My sexuality is not some performance for anyone else’s pleasure, and he knows it.”

“Says the woman who is about to masturbate onstage,” Violet teases.

“It’s NOT masturbation!” Raven’s tone is sharper than she intended. “That’s been a trigger.” She rubs the bridge of her nose and slows down to say, “The Legend of the Ancient Sacred Prostitute is actually a deeply devotional piece. Whether anyone gets it or not…my intention is to transmit a prayer.”

Violet pats the mattress beside her. “Lie here. Let me help you relax.”

Raven collapses with a big exhale, grateful for the safety and comfort of this strange creature’s touch.

“I’m sorry, this show is all I’ve been eating, sleeping, and dreaming for months.”

Violet repositions her body so she can reach under Raven’s shoulders, trace her hands along her neck, and cradle her head.

“I’ve seen too many self-indulgent one-woman shows. I don’t want to turn myself inside out and have people walking out scratching their heads wondering: ‘what the fuck was that?’ This is not just a show, it’s a ritual. I want people to go into a trance, using breath, movement, and sound, so they can access their own ecstasy.”

Violet listens quietly and continues with the therapeutic massage.

“If this ritual is performed properly, it’s not just for the audience, but for our ancestors. I’m doing this show for all the sexual outcasts, for all the perverts and pioneers. I’m doing it for men and women that were branded as witches and devil worshipers. I’m also doing it for the sad housewives who don’t know how not to go numb in their girl parts. I’m doing it for the collective.”

Violet’s expert hands are rocking Raven’s body. It feels shamanic—like she’s shaking off lifetimes of trauma.

“I want to surrender to the Goddess and let her perform through me.”

Suddenly, Violet’s lips are on Raven’s mouth. Raven is startled and she gasps. They’re holding still, lips locked, breathing into each other’s mouths.

Violet pulls away, saying, “I couldn’t help it, I find you crazy attractive. Like a turbulent river, and I want to dive in.”

Raven throws Violet down in a move that sharply says: You’ve had your hands on me long enough. Raven drags her flat palms over the length of Violet’s body. Slowly slipping Violet’s stockings off, Raven kneels between her ankles and parts her legs wide. Violet props her head on the pillow to watch Raven massaging up her legs. Raven is kneading, pinching, and rolling Violet’s soft inner thighs, which are undulating from pure pleasure. A confused little sound escapes Violet’s lips, but Raven cuts her off. “Don’t speak.”

Raven lifts up the bottom half of Violet’s dress, revealing lacy white panties. She exposes Violet’s breasts by pulling her dress all the way up, tucking the skirt under Violet’s armpits as if securing her with rope. “Don’t move . . .”

Slowly she slides her palms to cup Violet’s tender breasts, strategically trapping a nipple between her index and middle finger. Gradually, she increases the pressure until Violet squeals loudly.

“Careful, they’re sensitive.”

Raven continues down to the top of Violet’s underwear, which she slides skillfully off. Raven positions her face a few inches from Violet’s sex. Her pussy is bare, and the skin is lighter than the rest of her body.

“I want to look at your yoni.”

“Yoni?”

“What do you call it?”

“My flower?”

“Well then, I want to adore your flower.”

Raven’s face is so close she can smell the nectar. She wants to press her face closer but maintains distance—even when Violet thrusts her hips toward Raven’s mouth, Raven pulls away to increase the anticipation. After a moment, she sucks her first two fingers slowly and strokes Violet’s outer lips with a light tickling, teasing touch. After repeated strokes, Violet’s lower lips begin to open. Raven is in rapture watching her lover’s petals unfurl.

“Haven’t you seen enough?”

“Keep breathing . . . I want to smell you.”

“This is uncomfortable,” Violet says, revealing her insecurity.

“Relax,” Raven whispers. “You’re beautiful.”

Both women deepen their breath, and Raven notices Violet’s yoni transform slowly under her gaze. Eventually, the color darkens as the blood rushes in. She is particularly curious about Violet’s long hood and orchid-like folds . . .

“Come kiss me, already!”

“I’m hypnotized by your beauty,” Raven says.

“I mean it,” Violet insists.

“Fine, but I’m not done here.” Raven slowly hovers over Violet’s body and teases her mouth a few times before surrendering to a kiss. As they continue, Violet relaxes into an embrace, and Raven sees the sharp contrast: Violet has been tense this whole time.

“Why are you so resistant?” Raven asks.

“It’s like there’s a little girl inside that wishes she met you years ago.”

“Hopefully not too long ago, or this would have been illegal.” More kisses.

“I know you want me to relax and enjoy, but it doesn’t do it for me.”

“It’s not for you, it’s for me,” Raven retorts.

“Well, that makes it a little easier,” Violet admits, “but you’ve touched me so deeply in so many ways. I can’t wait to touch you.”

Raven withdraws her lips and says, “It’s getting late.”

Violet pulls her back in. “You’ve been so generous with my body, I want to thank you somehow.”

“The pleasure is mutual. You don’t need to thank me. The worst thing we could do at this early stage is start keeping a scoreboard. I take pleasure in pleasing you, but I’m particular about how I like to be touched. We’ll get there soon. For now, your job is to let me know your preferences and aversions. Like yoni gazing: thanks for letting me know it isn’t your thing. I’ll keep exploring other things.”

“You want to know what makes me cum?” Violet asks.

Raven’s hands become still around Violet’s hips. She listens with rapt attention.

“Fantasy. Tell me a story, with juicy details,” exclaims Violet.

Raven squints and searches Violet’s face. “What kind of stories?”

“Anything, I’m easy. Like tell me about your first time with a girl, since I already told you mine.”

“Well…” Raven smiles and walks her first and second fingers down Violet’s body as if flipping through the pages of her memory, landing firmly on Violet’s mons. “I grew up in a theater family, so gay and lesbian issues were standard talk around the dinner table. I fell in love with my best friend in high school.”

Raven pauses to tune into the warmth and wetness of Violet’s pussy. Violet lets out a little moan, her body obviously loving the hands-on storytelling.

“One night we were having a sleepover and got buzzed on miniature bottles of Wild Turkey and started fooling around under the covers. She reached over and grabbed my nipple, so I leaned in and kissed her. She got turned on and pulled me on top, and I started poking around to get into her panties. Eventually, she passed out. Looking back, we shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t have any context for consent, back then. Neither did she. We woke up when the sky started turning blue. She felt up my boobs, so I shoved my hand down her panties, and this time I found my way inside. She moaned and squeezed her legs around me so hard I thought I was hurting her, but I couldn’t stop myself. I felt so powerful penetrating her.”

“Mmm-hmmm . . . then what happens?” Violet said, riding Raven’s fingers in her own orgasmic trance.

“Even now, when I’m inside you, my heart gets so big, I imagine penetrating you with my desire and watching you become powerless. I feel like a teenage boy with raging hormones. I just want to pin you down and turn you inside out.”

Violet is so revved up that she lifts her pelvis off the mattress to increase the rhythm. Raven’s hand is playing hide and seek, in and out, peekaboo. The flow between them is effortless, free, fun. They’re kids again. Raven hears an echo of children calling out “Olly Olly oxen free” in the neighborhood cul-de-sac… Violet’s whole body shudders and lands in stillness, breathing hard in Raven’s arms.

Breathless, Violet says, “It’s like you were inside my head.”

Raven smiles. “Your body language is so clear.”

Violet lets out a moan and squeezes Raven with all her strength. “Thank you. I feel so close to you. I want to do something for you.”

“There’s something you should know. After I was with my best friend, for many years, I used to consider myself a stone butch.”

“What’s that?”

“A lesbian who is exclusively a top. You know, the one who prefers giving the pleasure. When I was in college I went through a phase where nothing went inside me. I didn’t think of my yoni as a place to be penetrated, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to penetrate others. There’s a stereotype that stone butch women are gender confused because they were hurt or have trauma. But I’ve never been raped or molested and I love being in a woman’s body, although, in my head, I’ll admit I see myself as a six-foot Amazonian woman with big bones. Sometimes I’ll catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and I’ll think, who the fuck is that?”

“So you don’t want me to penetrate you?” Violet checks.

“I’m just telling you this so you know it’s sensitive for me. I’m not stone butch anymore, but I still prefer being on top.”

“When did it change?”

“When I fell in love with Nick and I wanted to get as close to him as our bodies would allow.”

“And Damien?”

“Yes, when I trust someone and when they’re really present with me, then my body opens up. That’s why this show is so edgy for me. I’m going to allow myself to be penetrated in front of the whole audience. It’s symbolic of being able to surrender to the whole universe.” Raven looks into Violet’s admiring eyes and gently nudges her lips with her own.

They melt into a final kiss that conveys deep gratitude: Thank you for what you expressed. For getting naked. For baring your beautiful soul. And for another magical Friday date.

Thank you for being you.

As Raven walks her out, Violet stops at the door and pleads, “Before I leave, can you tell me one thing that I can do for you sexually?”

“You mean, besides letting me penetrate you?”

“Yes,” says Violet.

“Mother Nature.”

“What do you mean?”

“Getting out into the fresh air and spending time with my feet on the earth. If I can find enough privacy, I like to get naked and feel the warmth of the sun kissing my skin. That’s how our bodies were designed: to make love in the wild.”

“Well then, what are we doing indoors?”

“Maybe we can go hiking after my show closes.”

“After your show? That’s three weeks away. I have to see you before then.”

“I told you, I’m busy.”

“Too busy to have a quickie in nature? C’mon. It’ll be like a blessing for your show.”