Lonely Lesbian
by
Dominique Navarro
An Obelisk Library eBook
Smashwords Edition
2012
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.
Copyright © 2012 Dominique Navarro
Originally published by Hard Case Dyke as Sex Substitute or: Diary of a Lonely Butch in Search of the Perfect Lipstick Lesbian under the pen name Eve Linkletter. This version is slightly revised with added material.
Cover image from DarkTraces. Used with permission.
MARCH
I stood on the doorstep, pulling the collar of my sport jacket high around my neck to ward off a chilling wind. I had to knock on the door several times before it was flung open and Marla stood there, her hair mussed, mascara smeared beneath her large glaring eyes, her lipstick smeared.
I gave her a quick kiss. I could smell the odor of stale booze. Anger leapt into my brain, a jealous, cancerous growth. It was obvious that Marla had been up all night — and not alone!
Who had been drinking with her? Who had kissed her full ripe young mouth?
HAD IT BEEN A BUTCH, OR A MAN?
Marla forced a weak smile. She had a silly expression on her pretty face and I suspected that she was still a little drunk.
Trying to hide the fury within me, I too forced a smile; stepping inside, I closed the door. I didn’t say a word to her as she made her way over to a coffee table and removed a cigarette from a pack. She was wearing the upper part of shortie pajamas, and as she leaned over to get a light from her cigarette lighter, my eyes rested on her curvy pink bottom with the cute little crease and the few red hairs that spread like uncombed curls.
My anger seemed to lessen. Marla was a slut, and a two-timing little bitch, but I still wanted her…her pussy, that sweet cunt, and her pucker asshole, that anus I loved to lick and shove me tongue deep inside.
Slowly she turned around and faced me, and as our eyes met she was the first one to speak. “Well, Danni, if you’re about to give me a lecture, let’s get it over with,” she said with defiant sparks flying from her eyes.
“Who in the hell did you make out with last night? I called you until three this morning, and no answer.”
I could feel my face flush with anger, but she stood her ground.
“I’m free and over twenty-one, no strings attached. Wasn’t that our agreement when we started this affair?” Marla’s big flopping breasts were heaving as she breathed heavily, her anger rising. “You don’t own me, Danni,” she said.
I didn’t own her, and I never would. Nobody would ever be able to possess the girl completely. She enjoyed variety in her sex partners too much, the slut.
Marla crushed out her cigarette and again faced me.
As angry as I was, I could no longer control myself. With a few quick steps I was grabbing her roughly into my arms and my mouth was covering her mouth. When I let her catch her breath, I moved my mouth against her ear and whispered huskily, “Damn it, Marla, you’re tearing me apart, but I want you. I want you so damned much that I can taste you.”
Her answer was to reach my mouth. Cramming her tongue in deeply, she pressed her huge breasts tightly against my sport jacket. For several seconds we stood together, my arms going around her slim waist, my cold fingers feeling the warmth of her smooth warm flesh.
My tongue also became busy — I met her tongue and with a circling motion both our tongues were washing hungrily together. I could feel her long red hair brushing my cheek and the smell of stale tobacco reached my nostrils.
NOT CIGARETTE TOBACCO, BUT THE ODOR OF A STRONG CIGAR!
Then she had let a man fuck her last night!
A pain shot across my heart as I visualized Marla having sex with a man. Men are feared more by us lesbians than competition with other girls — all we have are phony ones, and a dildo can never compare with a warm flesh-and-blood organ.
The idea of Marla letting a man’s cock get near her made me want to puke…a cock in her mouth, a cock in her pussy or even her asshole, it was just horrible to imagine.
A dick!
Yet we feel that we can compete with our tongues, for what do men know about using them to the best advantage? Being a woman, I knew the right places to kiss.
I had never been sure about girls like Marla, however. Did they really prefer men and only use us for substitutes? Or did girls like Marla dig sex for sex itself, with a man or a woman? I preferred to classify Marla in the latter category. She was built for sex — a perpetual fuck machine that never got enough!
Marla’s fingers started to unbutton the front of my jacket. She reached down with her other hand and searched for the clasp on my capris pants. She found it and the zipper started to slide open. Now both hands were busy as she tried to push my capris down over my buttocks.
I helped her pull the pants off; next, I peeled the turtle-neck sweater over my head. As I sat in an armchair and began to pull off my shoes, Marla was stripping off the pajama top. I glanced up at her nude splendor. She was a tall girl. Her legs were as strong as a young colt’s. They were shapely and straight.
She kicked off a pair of mules and wriggled her pedicured toes. In another instant she had joined me again, this time to help me remove my bra and panties.
Both of us were completely naked now. The shades were down and through them it was dim. Though it was mid-afternoon, cloudy skies shut out the sun. I could still smell the stale booze on her breath but by now it didn’t mater.
TO HELL WITH WHAT HAD HAPPENED LAST NIGHT!
TODAY SHE WAS MINE!
Now, it was my turn to take over, so half dragging, half pulling her over to the day bed, I threw her down like a rag doll. My hands went to work and I noticed that my tongue was protruding from my lips and that I couldn’t control it.
I started moving down, down, down, my head caressing and kissing her tits. Her nipples hardened in my mouth. I then moved down to her luscious, tempting belly and I felt the silkiness against my chin.
I put my hands beneath the back of her knees and lifted her legs high, the way models strike poses in magazines.
Passionate animal-like groans escaped Marla’s throat like little demons. The next thing was the strength of her legs trapping my head. I stopped for a minute and looked at her lustful, contorted face.
“Who’s the greatest now? That cigar-smoking bastard you screwed last night, or me?” I asked, compelled to get one nasty dig in. “Is his dick better than my tongue?”
“Forget about last night, Danni. Please, don’t stop now.”
But an inner hate drove me on. “Did he have a big prick — did he, you bitch?”
“Not now, lover — please, don’t stop — harder, harder — kiss me!”
“Tell me, did he stick it in your ass?”
And said tongue moved down more to said asshole.
“Oh there, like that!” Marla cried.
I had got my point across, so once more my head enveloped her and I began to use my tongue on her ass, shoving three fingers into her cunt, further exciting her, but not hurting her.
“Harder, lover — harder...harder, shove all your fingers into my pussy galore!”
Marla wanted to feel pain, she was sometimes into hardcore fisting, but I wasn’t a Sadist, so ignoring her urgent demands, I aroused her by speeding up the tempo.
Her buttocks began to quiver and quake, the rump flesh flapping, and I got that bittersweet ass taste in my mouth mixed with her pussy juices. She squealed, and her long fingernails dug into my scalp. She then relaxed, her body going limp, like a rag doll. But she was far from satisfied.
In a low voice, she asked: “Did you bring Mister Dildo along?”
I think I tolled my eyes and said, “No, honey, I didn’t. But we don’t need it.” I moved up along her body, brushed back her long red hair, stuck my tongue into her ear; then reaching down beneath her buttocks, I raised her body up to meet my body.
I had often used a dildo on Marla, she liked it up her ass while being fisted, she loved being stretched to the limit, but now I would make do with what nature had endowed me with.
Marla reached down, and taking my index finger, steered it against the crease of her buttocks. We were both working our midsections together now. Our naked bodies were becoming sweaty and beads of perspiration formed on my forehead. As I continued to slide and rub against Marla’s soft bushy part, my tongue claimed her tongue and, as if a thousand hammers were striking at my brain, I almost blacked out with a tremendous orgasm that left my knees weak.
THAT WAS WHEN THE PHONE RANG SHRILLY!
Marla and I broke apart. Her face dropped in disappointment and she appeared to be frustrated.
“Damn it,” she said, “what a hell of a time for the phone to ring — just when I was ready to ring a bell.”
“Better answer it, then we’ll take up where we left off,” I said, needing a brief respite to regain my strength for the next bout with this gorgeous sex-pot.
Marla got up and answered the phone.
“Give me an hour, Dave. A girlfriend dropped by—Oh, just woman talk. It would bore you. Okay, see you then.”
I was furious when she put the receiver back into the cradle. I snapped my fingers and sat on the edge of the daybed. “So, just like that, you date some stud and leave me hanging in midair.”
Marla tried to pacify me. “It isn’t the way it looks, Danni. Johnny lined up this guy for me. I need the money and he’s good for a three hundred. He’s into golden showers and I don’t mind if the money is good.”
“Oh — now you’re selling it.”
“I have to live, don’t I? Come off it, Danni. You’re acting as if you own me again. We still have time to finish what we were doing.”
What could I do? Again she was right. We weren’t going steady, and I should be thankful that I was on her list at all.
She walked over and sat next to me. She smiled and took my hands in hers. “You know I like your style, Danni,” she said.
I could feel my passion being aroused once more, and as I looked down at Marla, my anger melted away. Her half-parted lips caused me suddenly to put my arm around her waist, bend over and kiss her mouth. Then I raised her gently into my arms, pressing her hard, inviting breasts against me. Her mouth opened wide for the entry of my wanting tongue, again swallowing me up in a sea of blind, relentless passion. I tightened the pressure of my arms and we were kissing with wild abandon. I could feel Marla’s whole body tremble as our mouths clung together, tongue washing on tongue, washing and sliding together with a mounting excitement.
THE LITTLE BITCH KNEW THAT HER KISSES DROVE ME WILD AND MADE ME HER WILLING DYKE SLAVE!
Marla clasped her arms more tightly around my neck, and claimed my mouth even more violently. Her satiny skin was driving me mad with the longing to posses her again, as a man would. We fell down together on the daybed, and every curve of her was pressed against me like a tight-fitting glove. This time, I didn’t have to raise her buttocks up to meet my middle. She reached for a cushion and pushed it beneath her, then spreading her legs wide, she worked up until she was clamped against me. Our crotches were slippery and searing like hot torches.
JUST THEN A KEY TURNED IN THE LOCK!
We didn’t have time to break apart. A young, handsome man rushed in upon us. He stood there glaring at me. His face was red with anger.
“What in the hell are you doing with this bull dyke?” he yelled.
Quickly I jumped off Marla and grabbed for my clothes.
The man continued to stand there; he appeared to be waiting for one of us to speak.
Marla sat up and reached for a cigarette. She didn’t appear disturbed.
“Who the hell are you?” I finally managed to inquire.
“You’re with my girl — if that answers your question,” he snapped.
“Your girl! You can say that after seeing what we were doing?”
“Call her what you like, Buster, but I’ll give you just five minutes to get your ass out of here!”
I turned to Marla, who seemed to be enjoying the scene. She looked away from me and at the man. “Dave, I told you to give me an hour.”
“I called from a block away — I got the feeling you had another guy in here, but not a rotten butch.”
I felt like sending a fist into his mouth. My brain was spinning, trying to reason things out. Had Marla really been my girl, Dave would have had a fight on his hands, but she was a lying little bitch. She had lied to both of us and she wasn’t worth fighting over.
“Oh, I’ll be seeing you around,” she said as she puffed on a cigarette, not bothering to dress.
“Looks like this is goodbye, Marla,” I told her as I finished dressing.
I started to walk out. That was when Dave clutched me by the collar of my jacket. He pushed me toward the door with one hand and opened it with his other hand. I then found myself outside, standing on the steps, but hell — this wouldn’t be the first time a guy had thrown me out.
I decided to drive out to the Cozy Nook. What I needed was to put on a good drunk. When I got there, I went in, sat at the bar and ordered a pint of whiskey. If I were lucky I might pick up a sexy chick, but picking up a fern in a bar wasn’t what I really wanted. This wasn’t what I was looking for. But then I knew _ it was what I had always been looking for. To meet a girl who right from the start would realize there was something intangible between us, a certain something that we would not be able to define, that special feeling that is experienced so rarely between two girls in the gay life.
So, as always after a broken affair, I’m turning to my only companion: the bottle is the only escape for me! But this bottle of booze cannot erase what happened earlier. It cannot drive a-way the memory of Marla’s beautiful face, and make me forget our affair had ever happened. It cannot erase the memory of the two of us, naked and close each time, we had drunk the fullness of sex, knowing; that satisfied feeling after it was over.
Drink only magnified these things and made them seem more important — made the sex I had had with Marla even better than it had actually been. Yet in my heart I knew that Marla had only been another sex-greedy body — a body that used Lesbians; a selfish, demanding body interested only in self-gratification.
I continued to hit the bottle. Only a few scattered butches were at the booths with their ferns. The door opened, and a gust of wind almost blew a middle-aged woman in with it. She strolled in and glanced around the room. I watched her movements in the mirror behind the bar. She spotted me, and boldly took the bar-stool next to me. It didn’t take her long to strike up a conversation.
“You look unhappy, honey,” she said. “Your girl stand you up?”
I was getting drunker than I cared to admit, and I felt very depressed. She might not look like Portia di Rossi but she wasn’t bad.
I looked her over more closely, judging her age at about forty-five. When she smiled she showed even white teeth; her eyes were large, her eyebrows slanted, and her body was on the thin side, but she also looked unhappy. Misery was behind her smile — it was there in her eyes. She was just an old butch trying to make out in the gay life.
I was getting on in years myself and one day I too would be a pathetic creature trying to latch on to a young girl.
MISERY LOVES COMPANY!
So, I decided to give her a break — if one could call it that! Anything was better than being alone with my bitter thoughts.
I poured myself another drink and offered her one. She readily accepted it. The bartender brought another glass.
“I’m unhappy as hell,” I remarked.
“Then your girl did stand you up!”
“Wrong guess — she did better than that. She had some stud throw me out.”
“You don’t have to tell me—I get the gate at least once every week. My name’s Gloria. I’m just passing through town.”
“I’m Danni. Go ahead, help yourself to another drink,” I said when she had drained the glass.
We finished the bottle; then she suggested getting a fifth and going to her hotel room. The last thing I wanted was sex with this woman — but what the hell! It would be a way to kill time.
I paid for a fifth of whiskey when she didn’t offer to pull out any money. She had come in a cab, so we drove in my car. She was staying at a swank hotel on the outskirts of town. When we got there we took an elevator to her floor. Once inside the room, Gloria lost no time in stripping down to her panties and lying on one of the twin beds.
I sat on the other bed, opened the fifth, and took a big gulp. I passed the bottle to Gloria and she did likewise. We didn’t bother ordering ice because at this point we just wanted to get stinko and forget our troubles, but the sight of Gloria’s body repelled me, and I couldn’t help comparing this miserable, poor skinny specimen of womanhood with Marla’s delicious, wonderful feminine young body. Gloria’s thin arms would have looked better on a scarecrow, and I could have counted her ribs.
I wondered if she would make a pass at me, but she excused herself and went to take a shower. After her shower she came out with a towel wrapped around her and gulped down another drink of whiskey. She then picked up a paperback novel from the night stand and started to read it.
“Perhaps I should leave,” I said.
She looked up. “Oh, no — please don’t go. How about staying all night?”
“Well, if you’re going to read, I think I’ll nap. I feel beat. I was up most of the night.”
Gloria put the book down and said coyly, “You should read this book. I’ll lend it to you when I’m through with it. It’s all about masochists.”
“I’m really not interested,” I said. “Want another drink?’
She nodded and I handed her the bottle. Gloria took a large gulp, then said with a crafty expression on her face, “I wonder how it would feel to be whipped with a belt by someone?”
“I know that no damned fool would swing a belt at me, and get away with it,” I responded.
“I really wonder how it would feel!” she persisted. “Why don’t you hit me just once across the back, Danni. This book has my curiosity aroused.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s drop the subject.” THIS BROAD WAS A KOOK.... Somehow I had to make a tactful exit! But Gloria wasn’t admitting defeat that easily. She jumped up suddenly and went over to a chair where she had thrown her slacks, and with a quick movement removed the belt. When she started back toward the bed there was a look of rapturous expectancy on her bony face.
“Go ahead, Danni. Hit me just one time,” she said excitedly as she handed me the belt.
I was utterly disgusted by this time, and I was very drunk. All at once I wanted to strike out at her — it would be striking out at Marla and all the Marlas who like human leeches sucked the lifeblood out of butches like me — sucked us down into the muck like quicksand, not caring for our feelings or for any sincere relationship.
“Damn you, Marla!” I shrieked. I grabbed the belt from Gloria’s claw-like fingers and swung it across her skinny back. The bath-towel fell to the floor.
“Damn you, Marla, damn you...” I shrieked even louder and the sound was like distant thunder in my own ears. The sting of the belt caused Gloria to howl, and she ran across the room to dodge any other blows that might come her way.
But I was in hot pursuit, and finally caught her near one of the twin beds. I pushed her on to it, and she cringed with fright as I proceeded to lash her across the back with the belt.
“Damn you — you bitch!” I cried out, and seemed to see Marla’s long red hair, her lustful inviting smile.
I snapped out of the savagery of my actions when I realized that no longer was I confining the lashes from the belt to Gloria’s back, but was striking with full fury across the face and neck of the now terrified, miserable wretch who was writhing on the bed.
I dropped the belt to the floor; I could hear the pitiful whimpering of my willing victim.
I went over and lay down on my bed. I was ashamed and disgusted to think that I had allowed myself to be trapped into such an animalistic act.
THIS GAL WAS TOO KOOKY FOR MY TASTES!
I looked over at her and she was smiling. Her arms were outstretched.
“Let’s make love, darling,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much you’ve inflamed me. Fuck me hard and then take a shit in my mouth. Defile me. Make me eat shit, baby, make me dirty!”
But fucking and shitting wasn’t my idea of sex, drunk or sober.
“Sorry, Gloria, but I have to go.”
Her pleas to change my mind went unheeded as I quickly walked out. I had left the bottle for her — she might need it. But on the way home I stopped by a liquor store and bought another fifth.
When I got home the house was in darkness. My brother hadn’t come home from work yet.
Taking the bottle to my room I undressed and got into a pair of pajamas. I opened the bottle and got my diary from its hiding-place and as I drank I made new entries:
* * *
DEAR DIARY: What is going to become of me now? How did I get desperate enough to wind up going to a hotel room with a person like Gloria?
I must be losing my marbles! No — I’ll wait and hope for a miracle True love might be just around the corner.
My writing was becoming a scrawl. The room was rocking...The words I tried write were blurred...My head was falling down on the desk, resting on the diary...
APRIL
My spirits were as heavy and dismal as the weather turned out to be. I drove along in the rain; and wind had started to lash through the trees, bending them until they looked like elegant ladies at a formal ball, doing curtsies in their full-skirted gowns.
I had no place to go, so I continued to drive on aimlessly. The rain splashed against the windshield of my car, obstructing the road ahead, and the windshield wiper that was making a steady splashing sound did little good in keeping the glass clear of rain.
What a drag I am, I was thinking, at thirty-five, leading an aimless life; in and out of affairs with lipsticks who go with me for the money I can give them; then, after a while, get tired of me and go on to the next butch — to anyone who can give them more than I can.
And I live in fear that my brother will find out that I am a dyke!
Suddenly, through the blur of rain, I saw a girl standing at the side of the highway. Almost skidding on the slippery pavement, I brought the car to an abrupt stop. I opened the door and the girl ran to the car.
“Come on, get in,” I said with a friendly smile.
The girl got in quickly out of the rain and slammed the door shut. I noticed that her water-soaked dress hugged the outline of her slim sexy body, accentuating her pointed breasts. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were red from crying.
As I started the car the girl straightened her dress and I saw that it had been ripped at the collar.
“You don’t know how much I appreciate this. Gosh, I’m glad you stopped,” she said softly, giving me a grateful look.
I noticed that a bruise on her neck was starting to discolor, and that there was mud on her dress.
“Looks like you’ve been put through a wringer — what happened to you?” I asked curiously.
“Wouldn’t you know it! My first date in this crummy town, and I almost got raped.” A sob escaped the girl’s throat.
“What’s your name?” I inquired.
“Carla.”
“I’m Danni. You shouldn’t trust strange men.”
“I know, but this guy seemed like a good Joe, so I accepted the date. He told me about a roadside joint that he wanted to take me to for dinner, and the next thing I knew we were parked behind some bushes, and hands were flying in all directions.”
Carla had a look of disgust on her face as she related her unpleasant experience; but I only stared straight ahead at the heavy rain as I listened intently to her soft sweet voice.
“Rain or not, I broke loose,” she went on. “I got out of the car and ran for the highway. I guess I’m pretty shook up. I can still feel his foul breath on my face.”
“I feel for you,” I said. “It happened to me once, only I wasn’t so lucky — the guy got my cherry. By the way, what did you say your name was?”
“Carla... Carla Jones.”
“New around here, aren’t you?”
“I’ve only been in town a few days. I’m staying at the Hotel Ridgecrest.”
“Why that hotel?”
“Because it fits my pocketbook. And there are other runaways there like me, they don’t ask questions or your age.”
“It’s a pickup joint, and always changing owners.”
“I know it isn’t much. I should have known better than to date that man. I guess that’s how he looked on me — as a pickup, so it was my own fault. I asked for it.”
The rain started to slow to a drizzle and I reached over and rolled the window down. The country air was refreshing as it blew into the car and the scent of damp new leaves came in the window.
“Want to stop for some coffee?” I asked, not wanting to drop the girl off yet.
“Not looking like this. Let me take a rain check.”
Soon we were at the city limits, and within minutes had arrived at the hotel.
“Can I give you a call tomorrow?” I asked.
Carla hesitated for a moment, pushed her damp hair back from her face and half smiled at me. “Well, I’ll be looking for a job all day; but if I’m not in, just leave a message.”
“What kind of work are you looking for?”
“I’m a waitress.”
Perhaps I can help you. I know a restaurant owner quite well.”
At least this gave me an excuse to see Carla again, and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.
“hanks. That’s awesome of you, Danni.”
“Suppose I pick you up tomorrow and we’ll make it a point to see the man who owns the restaurant.”
“I won’t be putting you to any trouble, will I?”
“Not at all. I’d love to do it.”
If only Carla realized how much I would love it! But I could sense that she was naive a-bout girls like me and that she didn’t suspect the real motive behind my desire to be helpful!
“It’s getting late, so I’ll say goodnight,” Carla said as she put her hand on the doorhandle. She glanced out the window and saw that the puddles of water on the street were still. “Well, what do you know? It’s stopped raining,” she said as she turned the handle and got out of the car. She stood with the door still open and glanced inside. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I seem to’ve wet the seat.”
“Think nothing of it,” I said as my eyes swept over her slim curvy body.
“You’re awfully young to be on your own, aren’t you?” I asked as I studied her face more closely. She had a lovely face and it held a strange fascination for me, a fascination that seemed to draw me to her like a magnet.
I began to plot secretly a way to gain her confidence; then, at the right time, and in the right situation, anything could happen! But now, under the bright streetlight, she looked dangerously young, and could wind up being jail bait.
“You’re about nineteen or twenty, aren’t you, honey?” I asked cautiously. I had to be certain, before I let this acquaintance go too far. After all no matter how badly I desired to make out with this girl, I didn’t want any trouble.
“Eighteen,” she answered quickly as she made an attempt to close the door; but it wasn’t easy for her to brush me off so readily. So, to be polite, she-stood there, although I could see she was very uncomfortable in her wet clothes.
“Really?” I said.
“I ran away from home. Stepfather always trying to get into my pants. What is it with men, anyway? Sex always on their minds.”
“Yeah, men, what a waste,” I sighed, with relief. “I should think a pretty girl like you could do better in a big city.”
“To tell the truth, I was heading for New York. But it was the same old story — not enough money and too much ambition. It’s getting chilly standing here in this wet dress. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow,” she said.
“Pick you up about ten in the morning, then. Is that all right?”
“That’ll be fine. Good night,” she called back over her shoulder as she ran to the entrance of the hotel.
“Goodnight, honey,” I called back.
* * *
DEAR DIARY: Life seems more hopeless now than it ever has. For how can I ever possess a girl like Carla? Probably she would look at me with disgust if she even slightly suspected what I am and what I was leading up to and planning...But this girl is not like the others...This is the one I have dreamed about...longed for...the girl that I must have. Is there any hope for me?...Or will I be left lonelier and more frustrated than ever?
I won’t rush this, but who knows?...Maybe I can teach her a few tricks, and if only I get her once over the fence, I just might be able to keep her there!
My soul is laid bare before you, dear dairy...this wretched soul which won’t give up hope.
***
The following morning when I drove up to the Hotel Ridgecrest, Carla rushed out from the lobby when I honked my horn. Quickly I stepped out of the car, walked over to the curb and opened the door for her. “My, but you look beautiful this morning. I love the way you’re wearing your hair. A pony tail is very becoming on you.”
“A far cry from last night,” she said. “I looked awful.”
“You look good enough to eat, honey! And I love that shade of blonde hair. Is it natural?”
“Yes, but I’ve been accused of bleaching it.”
She got into the car and I walked around to the driver’s side, got in, and we drove off. “Have you had breakfast yet?” I asked.
“No.”
“Wonderful. We’ll eat at that restaurant I told you about. Perhaps you can talk to the boss.”
“I’m still shook up over last night. I’d rather not discuss work with him today. Anyway, I need some relaxation.”
“In that case, let’s go over to my house and I’ll cook breakfast,” I suggested, glad that things were working out in my favor, and that I could get her alone.
“I’d enjoy that. I won’t put you to any trouble, will I?”
“Oh now, not at all. I live with my brother Donald and I cook for him most of the time. Maybe you can stay for dinner tonight and meet him. I’m sure you’ll like him, but be on your guard, as he’s known as quite a ladies’ man!”
As we pulled up to the driveway, Carla was looking at the house with a pleased expression, and I could see that she was impressed by the well-kept lawn and the white picket fence. Then I noticed that Donald’s car was in the double garage. I had completely forgotten that it was his day off! I wouldn’t have Carla to myself after all.
“Whose car is that in the garage?” she was asking.
“Donald’s. I forgot that he’s off today,” I said, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
We entered the kitchen door, and I told Carla to go into the living room while I started breakfast. Then, hearing the T.V., I changed my mind, realizing that my brother was up and watching a program. I followed Carla into the living room.
She was admiring the fireplace; then, as her eyes scanned the rest of the room, her eyes fell on the back of Donald’s dark, wavy-haired head. He was engrossed in an early movie, and didn’t hear us approach.
I went over to him. “I have someone I’d like you to meet, if you can tear yourself away from that screen.”
He looked up and saw Carla standing there. Rising, he took the hand she extended to him.
“This is my big handsome brother, Donald. Donald, this is Carla.”
But I could see that Carla barely heard my voice. She stood as if glued to the spot. Donald’s hazel eyes seemed to hold her spellbound. His blue jeans and snug sport shirt showed off his manly physique, and it was obvious that she was attracted to him physically.
My brother was staring at her now, and he, too, seemed fascinated. I noticed that he was self-conscious, but he couldn’t hide the tinge of excitement in his voice as he tried to be casual.
“Gee, you have beautiful blue eyes,” was his first comment, and as he said it he appeared foolish and awkward. And I didn’t miss the look of naked desire in his eyes.
A pang of jealousy raced through me. I knew that my brother was feeling the same desire for the girl that I was feeling. For an instant I hated him for becoming my rival. How could I compete with a young virile specimen of manhood like my brother, whose penis I could never have? — And with a normal girl such as Carla, my brother’s virility would defeat my purpose.
Unless I could get to her first — and, with my experienced tongue, make her lose all desire to have a man give her penetration!
“Well, don’t just stand there, the two of you!” I said, with an edge of annoyance in my voice. “Sit down. Have you had breakfast yet, Donald?”
Was I giving myself away? But of course not — they didn’t even notice me. Abstractedly, Donald was saying, “What? — No!”
“I’ll go and fix something to eat,” I said painfully, trying to keep my voice steady, but still conscious of the thought that he was a real man, and had in his pants an organ I could never have. I then abruptly left the room.
After what proved to be a pleasant breakfast, I tried to get rid of my brother by using the pretext of having him run an errand.
“This is my day off, Peg,” he protested. “Let’s just sit here and talk. I want to know more about Carla,” he said as he got up from an armchair and went over to sit beside her on the sofa.
“I want to discuss a personal matter with Carla, Donald. Do you mind leaving us alone?” I said as I tried to rid myself of this unexpected competition. I was already sorry that I had introduced them; but when I had let Donald meet some of my other girl friends he had paid little attention to them, and I hadn’t dreamed that he would go for Carla as he was so obviously doing. He seemed to be undressing her with his eyes, and J noticed that he shifted for comfort several times.
“Where did my sister ever find you?” he asked.
“I was hitching a ride on the highway last night. The date I was with got fresh and I got away. I didn’t have any mad money to get a bus, and your sister came along and rescued me.”
“Where did you meet the guy?”
“At the Hotel Ridgecrest.”
Donald frowned, not looking very pleased, and I knew that he was wondering if Carla made a habit of letting strange men pick her up. Perhaps if his only thought had been to find out how she would have been as a toss in the hay it wouldn’t have mattered to him; but after being in her company and hearing her voice and watching her contagious smile, I knew that he-had fallen in love with her in the instant his eyes had met hers. With his narrow-minded ideas, he would be seeking perfection in a loved one. He would never settle for a chippie passing through town who let men pick her up. This sudden turn of events was in my favor and I intended to make the most of it.
I noticed a hurt expression on Carla’s face.
“What’s the difference how she met the guy,” I said slyly. “Don’t be so old-fashioned, Donald.”
He turned and glared at me, then walked over and turned on the T.V. I couldn’t have hoped for a better opportunity to get her away from him than while he was in this mood, so I quickly suggested to her that we go for a drive. Donald didn’t protest, or offer to go with us. I knew that he was feeling disillusioned and that suspicions were going through his mind. Although I felt sorry for him, at the same time I was glad, because Donald’s interest could upset my own plans for this girl.
Donald didn’t say another word as Carla followed me through the door. Although she could have explained if I hadn’t taken advantage of my chance to fuel the flame, the incident hadn’t been ironed out.
As soon as we got into the car I could see that she was close to tears, and there was a catch in her voice.
“Don’t worry about him — hell get over it,” I said.
“I should have told him that I’m not a common pick-up and that this was the first time I had done such a thing, but somehow I couldn’t do it, Danni. If he wants to act that way, then let him.”
“He’s stubborn, but after he thinks about the way he acted he’ll apologize.”
“I guess it’s my fault. I said the wrong thing, Danni. I didn’t know your brother would take that attitude.”
“He’s always been a square, but I’ve never seen him act rude. At least he could have said goodbye to you.”
“Well, I don’t care whether he apologizes or not! Who needs him?”
“Now you’re talking, honey! No man’s worth it — not when he acts like Donald did!”
My brother hadn’t fooled me in the least. I knew that he had fallen for Carla even before he had known it himself. But, now, the fears that had been mounting up in me while I had been preparing breakfast, and then later in the living room, were beginning to leave me. The only thing to do now — was to keep these two apart. And that I intended to work on, with everything I had in me.