| |
Tabitha pulled the pink rosebud curtain open for me.
And while scooting out of the booth, I dried my tears, then turned back to say, “Thank you for sharing your story, Uno.”
The white tiger’s tail twitched in acknowledgment.
“We’ll be right over there.” Tabitha pointed to an empty cubbyhole nearby, then let the curtain close before whispering to me, “Let them have some privacy.”
I nodded.
“Now...” She offered me her leash. “Where were we?”
“Er, not sure...” Grinning, I took her lead. “Refresh my memory?”
She took me to the vacant booth, pulled me in, and closed the pink rosebud curtain behind us.
As I scooted around the glass table, the smooth pink velvet felt sensual on the back of my bare thighs, and I had to stop a moment to stroke the soft fabric. Then I said, “I thought you didn’t believe in encryption.”
“I don’t believe in it,” she replied as she switched the media center to music-player mode. A colorful graphic visualizer appeared on our monitor along with ambient trance. “I haven’t met an encryption key I couldn’t crack.”
I pointed at the pink rosebud curtain. “Okay, so why—”
“Well, I do believe in privacy.”
IT'S NINE O’CLOCK.
“You okay, puddin’?” She edged closer, then leaned in to brush the blond bangs out of my face. “How’s Molly treating you?”
“Good. Yeah... I feel good.” Still petting the velvet seat, I gazed into her big brown eyes. “I’m glad we’re here. You know, together... I mean, it’s nice to finally be alone—”
With the most intense look I’d ever seen, she leaned in and whispered, “To what? Talk?”
Then I did it—drew her leash in and kissed her.
So gentle. So warm. So sweet.
What am I doing?
I immediately dropped her leash, scooted away, and placed both my palms flat on the cool glass table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t apologize.” She slid closer to me. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that since you first climbed onto my boat.”
“Uh, sport yacht, remember?” I joked as I stared at my hands on the table.
“You know, Cookie... The problem with playing hard to get is that eventually...” She reached out and stroked my once-broken thumb. “If you ever want to get got, you have to stop playing.”
I jerked away and sat on my hands. “I shouldn’t—”
“Why not?”
“It’s wrong. For so many reasons, it’s wrong.”
“But it feels so right.” She slid her hand up the inside of my thigh. “Doesn’t it?”
I melted like drawn butter.
“Seize the moment, Cookie,” she murmured as she brushed her lips across my neck.
“I must admit... I’ve fantasized—”
“It’s a powerful thing to live out your fantasies.” She kissed her way up my neck, sending chills down my spine, then whispered in my ear, “Carpe diem!”
“I’m not sure.” I feigned resistance while still sitting on my hands.
Tabitha climbed on and straddled my lap.
Giggling, I instinctively reached for her, but rather than grab her the way I really wanted to, I dug my nails into the shag carpet on the wall behind us instead.
She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Let me make love to you, Cookie.”
“Uh, er, gee-whiz... I don’t even know how that works.”
“How what works?”
“You know...” Blocking her advances, I held up two fingers, rotated my other hand 90°, then crammed my finger-crotches back and forth in an obscene gesture. “Do we just scissor or something?”
“You’re so cute, puddin’...” She giggled again, louder this time. “Well... There are many ways—”
“But all I know is...” I went back to groping the pink shag carpet. “You know, straight stuff.”
“Well, that’s okay.” Still straddling my lap, she leaned back a bit and asked, “Would you like me to grow a cock real quick?”
“What?”
“I don’t mind if you prefer dick.” She was dead serious. “I’ve done it before. I can recyclone a penis for you right now—”
I blurted out, “No,” and meant it. “Wait, you can do that?”
“We both can.” She stared at me seductively. “You know, we could take turns.”
“Whoa! You’ve done that?”
She winked at me.
“That’s really... something.” I stopped myself from exploring the idea further and decided to enjoy the actual moment—with this woman. “Please don’t change, Tabitha. I like you just the way you are.”
“That’s sooooo sweet, puddin’,” she swooned.
I kissed her again.
This time, I went with it.
This time, I didn’t apologize.
This time, I noticed all the little details.
She tasted like salted-caramel lip gloss. Her tongue pried my lips apart, then eagerly explored inside my mouth. My jaw relaxed, opened up. And as I playfully teased back with my tongue, I felt her pigtails tickle my ears. The floodgates opened. We quickly escalated into necking. Then petting—heavy.
“Why am I so attracted to bad girls, Tabitha?”
“Because you’re a good girl, Cookie.” Through our dresses, she rubbed her hard nipples against mine. “Opposites attract.”
“What’s that mean anyway?” I asked. “Is it about magnets or something—”
“Stop worrying about little shit and just go with it.” She pulled down my already low neckline to expose my breasts, then went for them. Licked. Teased. Tickled. Sucked.
“Yeeesssss.” I thrusted my hips up against hers. “Don’t stop.”
She sucked on my nipple.
I fondled her tit.
She reached up my skirt.
I teased her nipples.
She ripped off my shorts.
I pulled up her skirt.
She kicked off her shoes.
I went for her underwear.
Oh, yeah, that’s right, you’re not wearing any—
She crammed one of her breasts in my mouth, then took my hand and shoved it between her legs.
Holy shit, you’re sopping wet.
“Please, more,” she begged and squirmed with delight. “Yes!”
I spread her wide open, slid two fingers in, and found the perfect spot. “Mmmmm,” I hummed with my mouthful, “yummy.”
This woman knew how to make my body respond in ways I never imagined possible. And I sure got her hot too. The more excited she got, the more excited I got. The slippery heat between her legs made me feel like a wild animal. There’s nothing sexier than watching a woman cum on your lap.
Holy hell! I had no idea sex could feel like this.
I felt so real.
So fucking alive!
She rubbed the inside of my thigh and whispered, “We’re just getting started.”
The rest, we blocked from everyone else. All of London certainly didn’t need to know what happened between two womanoids in an encrypted chat booth in the velvet lounge at Dorothy’s.
Some things were best kept private.
I don’t know how long we cuddled in that plush pink den afterward, but it was pure bliss. At first, I didn’t think I could move at all. I swear I almost passed out after the third orgasm—mind-blowing. The French have an expression for this—la petite mort—the little death. I’d had sex many times before, but that...
That made me feel reborn.
“Whoa!” Her eyes popped wide open as she gaped up at me. “Did I do that?”
“What?” My hand shot up to feel my neck. “Do I have a hickey or something?”
She giggled as she tucked her breasts back into her halter top and tied the strap. “No.”
“Then what?”
“Your hair... It’s pink.”
I studied the braid draped over my shoulder. “Wow. How did that happen?”
“Must’ve been one hell of an orgasm, Cookie.”
“Uh, I think you know they all were.”
I got a look at my reflection in the table. Yup. I had pink hair now. I examined the cotton-candy colored fringe at the end of my braid and wondered, Is this a hallucination?
Tabitha snuggled up beside me and sighed with satisfaction. “Sex so good it turned your hair pink.”
“How’d I get so lucky?”
“You deserve all the happiness.”
Then I entered the now-I-have-to-tell-you-all-about-my-feelings phase of Molly. The incredible sensory experiences were slipping away, leaving my mind hungry to explore the metadata they’d left behind. I felt like a Zen philosopher or spiritual guru or something.
I DO deserve ALL the happiness.
As the afterglow began to fade, regret took over. Reality check. I had just cheated on Wayne. I thought I was happy with him. He was the love of my life, right? But if so, then why’d I feel so drawn to this woman?
What’s wrong with me?
(Not a damned thing, puddin’.)
Yes, Tabitha was something special. But to be totally honest, she’s not the first woman I ever felt this way about. Sure, this was the first time I ever had the balls to actually act on my feelings. And now that I finally got to experience that glorious release, I realized... I’d felt this sexual tension with other women before. My programming held me back. Kept me stuck. Frustrated.
I’m not talking about the hot mess of a relationship I had with Maggie. No. You see, I realized that I’d always felt more than just a platonic friendship for Paula. Remember Paula? I still think about her a lot. I miss her terribly. Yes, I know she’s dead and gone and there’s nothing I can do about it. But now... I realize I was in love with her all along.
Too little, too late.
I suppose that’s why I lost my shit when Chrissy kissed Paula in Helsinki. Maggie said they were clones. Or maybe Maggie lied, it wouldn’t have been the first time. But it doesn’t even matter. I loved Paula. I wanted her that way. But I was too chickenshit to do anything about it. And you know what? Chrissy wasn’t all that bad either. I think maybe I was just jealous of how freely she expressed her sexuality. I didn’t realize it at the time, but back in New Stepford, I had...
Hangups.
And now that I was here, holding this gorgeous and incredibly gentle creature, things would never be the same.
Call it a paradigm shift.
In our booth, her smell lingered with my smell, while memories of our love-making replayed over and over in my mind. I looked down at the satisfied smile on her beaming face, and the serotonin pumps in my brain kicked into overdrive.
I did that to her—for her.
I could’ve stayed there forever, just holding this delicious woman in my arms and listening to her breathe. She'd unlocked my innermost desires. Pushed me beyond my internal limits. And I wanted her. Again.
I hadn’t felt an attraction this obvious since—Maggie.
And let’s talk about that, shall we?
How do I say this?
When I first met Maggie at the grocery store, I wanted to be her. And if I couldn’t do that, I would’ve settled for being with her. I felt so trapped in New Stepford. Bored. And I needed her freedom. Her strength. Her total absence of fucks to give...
But then I watched Wayne and Maggie stuck in their sick dance of intimacy. He ran. She chased. She gave up and turned away. Then he chased her. Back and forth—their dirty dance was neither sexy, nor intimate. No. Despite their exhibitionism, those two never really connected. Sure. Lots of sex. Lots of orgasms. Real messy. Maggie thought she was keeping me on the outside looking in, but I knew there was nothing real between them. Their relationship was only about power. Wayne and Maggie in an endless battle for control.
Did either of them see me for who I really was?
Maggie created Wayne to be her boy toy—her sex slave. She fetishized Black men and had to own one of her own. Dominating Wayne gave her a bigger rush than any orgasm.
All he wanted was to be free.
To be with me.
But Wayne created me to be his very own. He said he made me just for him.
Where the hell was my choice in all that?
Maggie and Wayne. Wayne and me. How was it any different?
Don’t get me wrong. I love Wayne. I do. But how do I know I’m not just playing the role of Juliet as written for Romeo? Me stuck in another fucking script. Isn’t it time for me to write my own story? Wayne said feelings are supposed to help us make choices. To help us set our own priorities. Yet here I am feeling guilty for a choice I made freely.
Maybe I wanted to be the subject instead of the object.
For the first time, I experienced the world without either Wayne or Maggie in my head. Without my Internal Prompt. Without my nemesis. And without either of them influencing me, I chose to fuck Tabitha.
I mean, it’s totally possible that Wayne programmed me to love him. Like maybe my devotion to him is a quiet script that’s always running in the background...
You () {
love (Wayne Dixon);
}
But how do I know if it’s true?
How does anyone?
I mean, I just cheated on him. Did I ever really choose Wayne? What if I only settled for men by default. Clearly, something deep down inside me wants something—someone—else.
I () {
want (Tabitha);
}
My fingers traced the curve of her shoulder. Her skin felt so supple. Then I untied her halter top and caressed her supple breasts again. When I saw her nipples get hard, I knew...
I () {
need (Tabby);
}
“You finally called me Tabby!” Her eyes lit up as she gazed into mine, pulled me closer, and whispered, “I need you too, Cookie.”
CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.
I kissed her again.
Her lips felt so warm.
She arched her back and cooed with delight.
This woman brought me back to life.
And soon, we were at it again...