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“Do you know why I love you?” Joliette sat at the edge of the bench, staring straight ahead. “Do you know why I keep coming back to you time after time?”
Parveen said, “Tell me.”
“Well, you’re hot, for starters, but it’s so much more than that. You understand me. I need my freedom, and you get that. You would never try to tie me down or hold me back. With you, I’m free. We’re together, we love each other, but I’m still free. You would never tell me how to live my life or impose your beliefs on me. You love me for who I already am, not for some idea of who I could be. You love me without being possessive, without being jealous. You live your life, I live mine, and we meet somewhere in the middle. And when we meet...” Joliette giggled. “God, is it good!”
“When are you leaving?” Parveen asked, cutting through crap.
“Soon.”
“Soon like mid-May or soon like tomorrow?”
Joliette didn’t respond. She was fixated on a pair of mourning doves fucking in the grass, the bottom spreading her purple-grey tail feathers for the top. Flailing in unison, the birds seemed stoic, disinterested. Flap your wings and think of England.
“Shit, Jol,” Parveen spat with such intensity the doves scattered to the treetops. “Why are you always doing this to me?”
Shrugging, Joliette asked, “Did you expect me to stay?”
“I never expect anything from you,” Parveen hissed. Knowing Joliette, she probably took that as a compliment.
Joliette was a wind witch, the breeze incarnate. The slightest change in direction and she was gone without a trace. She couldn’t change her nature. It wasn’t her fault. Even so, and despite Parveen’s absolute independence, it pissed her off when Joliette left. There was never any certainty with that woman. Never.
As usual, Joliette prevented an argument by changing the subject. “Did you know there’s a species of lesbian sea gull in California?”
“I told you that,” Parveen said.
“You did?”
“I did.”
“Oh yeah.”
Parveen sat seething in silence, trying not to breathe for fear her slightest movement would send Joliette packing prematurely. No matter how angry she became, she never wanted her little sparrow to take flight.
“Aw, it’s starting to rain.” Joliette whined as random droplets struck their heads and thighs. “We should head back.”
“Why?” Parveen pressed, sparing herself the awkwardness of crying, Don’t leave me! I can’t live without you!
“See, that’s why I love you. I say something practical like, ‘We should get out of the rain,’ and your response is just, ‘Why?’ Like the laws of nature don’t apply to you. Like the rain’s gonna fall and you won’t get wet. Like you’re superhuman.”
“How do you know I’m not?” Parveen challenged, brushing carefree wisps of golden brown hair from Joliette’s shoulder. “I could be a witch, like you. An earth witch, maybe. I could be the witch who stays grounded while you’re flitting around up in the air.”
“Don’t say that,” Joliette pleaded. She didn’t like people making jokes about witches, or pretending to be something they weren’t.
As an apology, Parveen leaned in, pressing her lips against Joliette’s neck, white and perfect as a marble statue.
“I like you humans,” Joliette said, gasping as Parveen’s fingers crawled up her thigh. “With humans, what you see is what you get.”
“I guess I’m human after all,” Parveen whispered, forcing her tongue past surprised teeth, tasting the minty gum sweetness of that warm mouth. Returning the kiss, Joliette unbuttoned her shirt like a park bench was the perfect place for a last fuck.
The skies opened up along with Joliette’s white blouse. Warm rain pelted Parveen’s scalp as she dug two firm tits from Joliette’s bra, sucking eagerly at those hard pink nipples. Sucking so hard she couldn’t keep herself from biting the tender buds. Biting so hard Joliette cried out in pain.
Thunder rumbled the ground as Parveen sank to her knees, escaping the rain under cover of Joliette’s floral skirt. Tearing her lace thong like a predator, Parveen threw the ruined garment into the grass and opened Joliette’s legs wide. Like a tiger, her attack on those juicy folds was fierce. Relentlessly, she lapped the nectar from that swollen cunt, piercing the flesh of her ass with jealous claws. When Joliette cried out in the rain, Parveen planted her face against that screaming wet pussy, wrapping her mouth around those moist lips. She penetrated Joliette, thrashing furiously in that familiar fluid until her tongue muscles cramped from exertion. The flavour was tangy with an aftertaste of sweet, like sourdough bread chased by blueberry honey.
Parveen replaced her tongue with three fingers plunging frantically into Joliette’s cunt, a pinky beating against her asshole, pitiless as the storm from above. As driving rain soaking her back, she swathed her lover’s clit in the supple warmth of her pursed lips. She sucked noisily while her fingers raced in and out. Fast. Hot.
Shrieking against the sheet lightning, Joliette clamped her cunt like a vice on Parveen’s fingers. The sparrow of a girl gripped the park bench like it was trying to escape. Parveen was never so wet as when her fleeting lover pronounced her name at the moment of climax, harmonic as Swan Lake. Licking long and slow, slit to clit, she begged telepathically for Joliette to stay until the orgasmic convulsions subsided.
Wiping the pussy juices from her chin against Joliette’s smooth white thigh, Parveen asked, “Where are you going this time?”
The sparrow gazed into the heavens, droplets of rainwater falling from her narrow nose and chin. “Do you know what I love about you?” Joliette asked rhetorically, tucking those perky tits back into her rain-soaked bra. “You respect me, respect my privacy. Know what I mean?”
Joliette rose to depart, her long hair dripping as she bent to pick her torn thong from the green grass. She never left anything behind.
Over the hillock, Joliette disappeared into the blue-grey fog. Barely audible in the storm, the monogamous mourning doves cooed in consolation.
Like a war widow, Parveen carved their initials into the horizontal slat of the brown park bench, dry where Joliette had been sitting. The two were permanently attached now, living in a wooden heart on the public greens. Parveen might not know where in the world Joliette had gotten to, but she could always find this bench; its legs were cemented into the ground.