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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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--------------------------------------------------------
I write strictly for my own enjoyment, but was convinced 
by a friend to share my erotic works with others. 
(Actually, she told me off. Such language!) Who knows, 
maybe somebody else might like them too. I give 
permission for anyone to archive or share this story. If 
anyone makes a profit from this, please drop me a note 
to say how and where, and donate my writer's share to a 
local charity.
--------------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth and Anastasia - A Love Story
by Tom Bombadil (stbush@iglou.com)

***

This is a love story based on the relationship between 
two young women. It covers a little under two years of 
their lives. There is sex, but it's part of the story, 
not the predominant theme. You can find plenty of sex 
romps in other stories in this newsgroup. Tales of love 
are much rarer and harder to write. (FF, rom)

***

Author Notes: All the standard rules apply. If you are 
offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human 
body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your 
location, if you are under-age by law in your location, 
or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun 
reading it, stop right now and remove this text from 
your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters 
and actions described by me coming straight out of my 
imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my 
personal views on any of the activities or actions 
described, nor is it based on any type of real events in 
my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my 
friends or relatives.

Tom Bombadil is a pseudonym obviously (originally a 
character from Tolkien).

***

Our Story Begins...

Betty was mad at her father. Really mad, and deeply 
hurt. He had almost literally thrown Stacy out of the 
house, screaming at her, shouting that if he ever saw 
her around his daughter again, he'd kill her.

That was almost a week ago.

Since then she hadn't seen or heard from Stacy, and the 
many secretive calls she'd made to the older girl's 
apartment hadn't been answered. She knew her lover 
wouldn't dare call, afraid that Betty's father would 
answer the telephone.

The day before, skipping out of school in the afternoon, 
she'd gone over to Stacy's apartment, hoping that she'd 
be there, but got no answer to the buzzer. After hanging 
around for more than an hour, waiting and praying, but 
without any luck, she went home.

Feeling abandoned, fearing that her father may have been 
right, or at least had scared Stacy away permanently, 
she climbed into her bed. That emptiness inside she now 
recognized as a hole in her heart, even worse than the 
one she'd had when her mother left home. It was as 
though history was repeating itself, with Stacy taking 
her mother's place as the target for her father's anger. 
Mom had disappeared from Betty's life right after that 
last big fight with dad, five years ago. Not a single 
visit, telephone call, letter, card or anything. It felt 
like the earth had swallowed her up. Just like it seemed 
to have swallowed Stacy.

Would she ever see her lover again? 

Once more she cried herself to sleep.

***

It was a minor crisis in Betty's life that brought her 
into contact with Stacy for the first time. She was 
having serious problems in English that year, with her 
grades for the first half of the year sitting at a bare 
passing mark, and looking like they'd be falling to 
failure level soon.

Sitting in Ms. Flanders office, the vice-principal of 
the school, Betty was trying to explain why and having a 
very difficult time doing so. She was feeling mortified, 
red-faced with embarrassment, and was almost in tears. 
Her first explanation, the one she'd been rehearsing for 
days, had been utterly rejected.

"Elizabeth, I've looked at your marks from the last few 
years and spoken to a few of your teachers. There isn't 
a hope in hell you'll ever convince me that you can't 
understand what's being taught by Mr. Valdez. The man 
can teach, and no other students in his classes are 
having the same problems you are. I have extreme doubts 
that the content of the course is too difficult for you. 
Now then, you and I are going to sit here until you tell 
me what the problem is, even if it takes until 
midnight."

Ms. Flanders dark brown eyes seemed to stare right 
through Betty. Done up in her usual impeccable business 
dress, her hair pinned back, with her strong, almost 
masculine face, the V.P. seemed the model of stern 
authority. She had a reputation for being able to ferret 
out the truth from anyone, and for being very harsh to 
those who lied to her.

"Look, Elizabeth, I know there's something wrong here. 
If you don't talk to me, I can't help. You should 
realize that English is one of the few required courses. 
If you fail, you may not be able to graduate on time. It 
is very important."

Ms. Flanders sat back, turned her chair slightly, and 
seemed to look off into the distance. There were no 
windows in this office to stare out of, which is why she 
used it for potentially difficult or delicate meetings. 
Redirecting her gaze, and seemingly her attention, 
temporarily elsewhere, gave Betty a chance to recover 
somewhat.

"Ms. Flanders, if... if I tell you, will you promise to 
keep it a secret? Please? My father would kill me, and 
I'd never be able to face my friends again. Please?"

"That depends. If something illegal is going on, or 
someone is being or has been hurt, no, I can't promise. 
If it's strictly a personal matter, I probably will. I 
have to live with my own conscience so I can't make any 
guarantees, but I will try."

"This... this is really hard for me." Betty was going to 
tell the truth this time. Embarrassing as it was, she 
didn't want to fail, and she knew she would if she 
stayed in Mr. Valdez class. Slowly, haltingly, she told 
Ms. Flanders.

"It's true that I can't seem to learn anything from Mr. 
Valdez. It's not his teaching, it's him. He leers at me. 
All the time in class. He made me sit in the front row 
so he could see me better. It's so, so, ugly, the way he 
makes me feel, like he can see me naked or something. 

"I can't concentrate, can't think. All I can feel is his 
eyes staring at me. It's horrible. And now he wants me 
to stay after school with him because my grades are so 
bad. I couldn't. I can't stand him looking at me 
anymore. Please."

Betty's voice gave out. She was embarrassed and 
humiliated at having to tell Ms. Flanders about it, 
afraid she'd tell his father, but even more afraid Ms. 
Flanders wouldn't believe her and she'd have to go back 
to Mr. Valdez class. Staring at the floor, red with 
shame, she was unable to look the vice-principal in the 
eye.

"Is this the truth?"

"I don't know. I don't know if it's him or if it's me, 
but that's why I can't learn from him." Betty stared at 
the floor, unable to look at the older woman, afraid 
that she'd be called silly, or something worse.

They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, Betty 
too upset to speak, Ms. Flanders thinking. If Mr. Valdez 
was staring, she couldn't really blame him all that 
much. Elizabeth was one of the four or five prettiest 
girls in school. At 5'5" and still growing, she wasn't 
all that tall, but her willowy figure, long arms and 
legs, and high, slender neck made her look taller. 

She had smallish breasts, possibly a B cup, and they 
suited her figure. Her hips were slim, but they did 
curve out somewhat from her narrow waist, and her bottom 
looked nicely rounded and firm. Long, chestnut hair 
reached down to the center of her back. Her face matched 
the rest of her body. It was delicate, almost elfin in 
its fineness, with lightly tanned skin, pale red lips, 
and a slight flush to her cheeks. 

The crowning glory which set her apart from most of the 
other girls, even the older, more developed ones, were 
her eyes. They were large and expressive, light-brown in 
color, always bright and sparkling. When you looked into 
her eyes you could feel yourself falling into them, 
wanting to hug and cuddle this lovely, sensuous, 
vulnerable child.

Yes, she could see Mr. Valdez staring at this girl, his 
mind running through many lewd fantasies, all of which 
would be reflected in his eyes. Especially with what she 
knew of his personal tastes.

Betty broke the silence. "Ms. Flanders, are you going to 
tell my dad?"

After a short pause, she answered. "I'm going to have to 
tell him something. After all, there has to be a reason 
for your poor grades. Giving him the same story you gave 
me, though, would probably cause... difficulties... for 
you, for me, for Mr. Valdez. I think I'll avoid 
explanations and just say you were having some problems. 
I assume you want to transfer into another class?"

"Yes."

"Very well. It means you'll be swapping your English 
period with another subject, changing two classes. 
You've also missed out on a lot of school work and 
you'll need to pick that up somehow during the rest of 
this year. It's either that or summer school. I'm going 
to recommend to your father that you get a tutor."

The rest of the meeting was a bit of a blur for Betty, 
her relief making her somewhat light-headed. She 
wouldn't have to face that man any more. The only thing 
that stuck out in her mind was Ms. Flanders's comment 
that she'd have a private word with Mr. Valdez about 
this business.

The lady smiled to herself as Betty left, elated at this 
news. It was just the edge she needed. She'd lost two of 
her toys recently, one to a corporate transfer, and one 
she'd given away to repay a debt. Replacing them 
adequately was usually a time-consuming and laborious 
job. In her eyes, Mr. Valdez was a prime candidate, 
especially with the several levers she now had against 
him. This was going to be fun.

Her conversation with Betty's father was short and to 
the point. Betty was failing the class because of her 
teacher. Ms. Flanders would be taking personal charge of 
disciplining the man, so there'd be no need for any 
other action. Betty was innocent of any blame, and 
didn't even understand the problem. She'd be transferred 
to another class. A tutor for the next few months for 
catching up in her work would do wonders and, yes, she 
had a few she could recommend.

***

The next morning, at breakfast, things didn't get any 
better.

"G'mornin' short stuff." He always called her that when 
he was trying to be nice and cheerful. It was a leftover 
from when she was a little kid, and didn't really apply 
to her 5'7" willowy frame.

"Hi dad."

"You know, you haven't been looking to good lately. I 
think you need to get away for a bit. How about we head 
out for a beach holiday this weekend? Lots of sand, 
sunshine, ocean waves, boys on the beach, everything a 
young girl could ask for. What do you say?"

"No thanks, dad. I really wouldn't enjoy it."

"Nonsense. As soon as you got out there you'd perk right 
up and start having a great time. I'll make the 
reservations today and we'll head out Friday after work. 
Patsy just loves the beach so I'll let her know what our 
plans are."

Patsy was dad's girlfriend. She was part of the reason 
mom and dad split up five years ago. Patsy said she 
loved dad, but not enough to marry him. Betty hated her.

"Dad, if you want to go to the beach, no problem. Take 
Patsy, she would love it. Don't expect me to go because 
you think I need a change of scenery. You know why I'm 
upset, so just leave it alone. Okay?"

"Betty, there's no way that I'm going to let you ruin 
your life like this, especially after what happened to 
your mother. You're young, resilient. You'll be over it 
soon and get back to having a normal life. You'll see. 
It'll just take some time."

"The only person trying to ruin my life right now is 
you, and you're doing to me the same thing you did to 
mother."

"ENOUGH! I'm NOT going to sit here and listen to you 
harp on about what YOU think I did to your MOTHER! God 
damn it anyway! She went squirrelly before she left, and 
I'm NOT going to have that happen to me twice! And 
that's final! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

Jumping up from the table she ran to her room, slamming 
the door behind her, and fell on the bed, sobbing.

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door. 
Her father, not getting an answer, walked in and sat 
down on the edge of the bed.

"Betty, please, listen to me. I'm only doing this 
because I think it's what's best for you. I don't want 
to see you hurt, or see you waste your life. I love you 
too much for that. I do know how you feel right now, but 
these things blow over."

He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but at the 
first touch she jerked violently away. He sat there for 
several seconds, then got up and left. She heard him 
moving around the house for a few minutes, then heard 
the front door open and close as he left for his office.

She lay there, waiting for the tears to stop. Between 
arguing with her father for the last week and the fear 
of losing Stacy, she was drained and deeply tired. 
Finally she forced herself to move and went to the 
bathroom to wash. After changing and gathering her 
things for school, she left, locking up behind her. 

***

It was about a week after her meeting with Ms. Flanders 
that two events took place. One was at school, and the 
other was at Betty's house.

Betty was nervous. She'd been told to report to Ms. 
Flanders's office directly after school. No reason was 
given, so her mind was free to imagine the worst. At 
least there wasn't much time for her to think about it, 
having been told just before her last class of the day.

Of course, that last hour dragged on interminably. The 
teacher droned, the chalk screeched, and the clock never 
seemed to move. She didn't have the slightest idea what 
went on in class. By the time the final bell rang, Betty 
was impatient and itching to get it over with. Packing 
up quickly, she dumped everything into her locker and 
headed straight for the V.P.'s office.

It was only when she neared her destination that the 
nerves and doubts came back, slowing her steps. The 
secretary didn't help any, giving Betty no clues as to 
what she could expect, ushering her straight in. 
Apparently she was expected.

Ms. Flanders was there in her seat behind the desk, 
working on some papers that looked rather official.

"Hello again, Elizabeth." She gave the girl a big, warm, 
welcoming smile. "Have a seat. It'll be a few minutes 
yet before we can get started, so just relax a bit."

That smile did wonders for Betty. There was still a 
touch of nervousness, not knowing what to expect, but 
her apprehension, and most of the tension, were gone. 
She spent the interval watching Ms. Flanders out of the 
corner of her eye. The older woman seemed to be very 
happy about something. Her mouth was curled up in a 
faint smile, her eyes sparkled, and Betty could just 
hear her humming a tune under her breath.

A knock on the door interrupted Betty's secretive 
observations.

"Come in."

Betty sat there after the door opened, once more the 
scared little girl. Mr. Valdez stepped into the room and 
closed the door. There was a sick feeling in her 
stomach, and she couldn't look at him. She sat there 
quietly, staring at the floor, not knowing what to do or 
say. A quick glance at Ms. Flanders didn't help, as 
there was now a stern look on her face, along with 
something else Betty didn't recognize. Much later in 
life she'd see that look again and recognize it for what 
it was - amused contempt.

"Sit down." This was not an offer or a request, it was 
an order. He sat.

"Elizabeth, Mr. Valdez has something he'd like to say to 
you."

Betty looked across the desk, but found no clues as to 
what was going on, as the older lady was looking at Mr. 
Valdez and her expression showed no change. Finally she 
had no choice but to look at her ex-teacher.

His eyes were downcast, looking at the carpet. His 
shoulders were slumped, his back slightly bent, head 
forward. He looked like a guilty puppy hearing the 
newspaper being rolled up.

"Well?" This word from the V.P. seemed to spur him into 
action.

"Elizabeth, I'd... I'd like to apologize for the way 
I've behaved this year. Mist, uh, Ms. Flanders 
has...shown me how...poorly I've been behaving." He 
glanced rather guiltily from the floor to the V.P., 
returning his stare to the carpet quickly. "I'm not 
asking you to forgive me for what I've done, because I 
don't expect... forgiveness, it's just that... that I 
need to tell you how sorry I am for what I've done."

After another quick glance at Ms. Flanders, he 
continued.

"I'm told that it's because of me that you got poor 
marks in my class. In order to make amends, I can give 
you make-up exams at the end of the year. Those results 
would replace your earlier marks and be recorded in your 
permanent record. I know it's not much, but I hope you 
can accept it as a small gesture of penance on my part."

With that, he stopped speaking. Betty was a little 
shocked. Was this the same man who'd been haunting her 
nightmares for all these months? In fact, looking 
carefully, Betty saw that he was squirming slightly in 
his seat, seemingly uncomfortable, and yes, he was even 
blushing! He still hadn't looked her in the eye.

"That was very good Mr. Valdez. Very good indeed. You 
may leave now." Again, an order, not a request. Finally 
he looked at Betty, smiling slightly, looking rather 
embarrassed and blushing even harder. Standing, he 
offered his hand to her and she shook it without 
thinking. His palm was dry and hot, matching the heat 
radiating from his face. Releasing her hand, glancing 
once more at Ms. Flanders, he left.

After the door closed, Betty looked at Ms. Flanders. 
That self-satisfied smile was back and her eyes were 
once again glittering.

"All right Elizabeth, I believe we're finished now. I 
don't think Mr. Valdez will be doing any more 'leering' 
in the future. You just make sure you're ready for those 
make-up exams. Thank you for stopping by."

Betty found herself outside the office and walking down 
the hall before her mind clicked back into focus. 'I 
don't know what happened, but that was NOT the same 
person.' It didn't take a genius to figure out that she 
had nothing more to fear from Mr. Valdez, and that Ms. 
Flanders had a lot to do with it.

Still seated in her chair, finishing up the day's 
paperwork, the V.P. allowed herself a few minutes of 
lazy satisfaction. Yes, a nice week's work. A lot had 
been accomplished with him so far. And Mrs. Valdez was 
certainly much happier with her 'new' husband. Humming 
to herself, rehearsing the evening's 'activities' in her 
mind, she packed up and headed for home.

***

It was later that evening, well after dinner, that there 
was a knock on the door. Betty went to answer it, as 
usual, since her father got grouchy if his reading was 
disturbed. This time he put down the book and followed 
her.

"Hello, is Mr. Brust in?" Betty was looking at a rather 
tall, slender, older girl, one she didn't recognize. 
Standing behind her was another figure, rather 
indistinct, but definitely large and masculine.

"Hello," said Jonathan from behind Betty's shoulder. 
"You must be Stacy. Come on in."

The tallish girl and the taller gentleman behind her 
both came in.

"Hello Mr. Brust. Yes, I'm Stacy. Ms. Flanders tells me 
you're looking for a tutor for your daughter?" She 
glanced over at Betty with a questioning look.

"That's right. Stacy, this is Betty. We're looking for 
an English tutor, someone to fill in what was missed in 
the first half of the year. I understood, though, that 
there would only be one of you."

"That's right, just me. Mr. Brust, Betty, this is 
Woody."

Woody was the kind of guy women's wet dreams are made 
of. Around 6'4" tall, he was muscular and well-built 
without being heavy, had dark curly hair, big brown 
eyes, and soft lips curled up into a permanent smile. He 
looked Mediterranean, possibly Greek, but with a finely 
chiseled profile. His age was hard to guess but he 
looked like he'd be in his mid-to-late twenties. When he 
spoke, it was with a fairly deep, almost baritone voice, 
silky smooth, with a hint of a French (?) accent.

"Good evening to you both. Don't worry, I won't be 
staying long. I just came by to check things out. You 
can't be too careful these days. I wouldn't want 
anything to happen to my little girl." He was looking 
straight into Jonathan's eyes when he said that, but 
smiled.

Jonathan, Stacy, and Betty talked about the details of 
the tutoring for the next several minutes - how often, 
which evenings were best, cost and payment schedules, 
and duration. Once things were settled, Stacy said there 
was no time like the present to get started.

Stacy turned to Woody, who had been silent during this 
exchange. 

"Thanks for coming, Woody. I'll see you later."

"Most certainly." With that, he pulled Stacy to him with 
one arm, leaned over, and gave her a long, deep, 
passionate kiss. Betty, watching this, was at first 
embarrassed. As the kiss carried on, her embarrassment 
turned into a bit of breathless excitement. She could 
feel her pulse quicken and her heart beat harder as that 
kiss went on. It seemed almost endless.

Her father watched the kiss with some relief and some 
disappointment. He was disappointed because it was 
apparent from this kiss that the two were lovers 'he was 
wrong, but didn't find out for a long time' and when 
he'd first seen the gorgeous lady, he'd thought about 
making a few passes at her. That Woody guy didn't look 
like the kind of man you'd want mad at you though. 

He was relieved because of this same kiss. The girl had 
been recommended by Ms. Flanders, and he was somewhat 
suspicious of that woman due to some lingering rumors 
about her personal life. After what he'd gone through 
with his wife, he was suspicious of everybody. This girl 
now seemed safe.

After breaking their kiss, Woody headed out. Betty and 
Stacy went into Betty's bedroom to work as all her 
school materials, as well as her desk, were in there. 
Jonathan went back to his book.

The two girls set up a work schedule as had been 
discussed, adjusting the sessions around both Betty's 
and Stacy's commitments for the next few weeks. Stacy 
then pulled out a work list of items to be covered. 
Going through it, she gave Betty several reading 
assignments to be completed by the start of their next 
session, Monday of the following week.

Betty was studying Stacy surreptitiously, envying the 
taller girl her calm, dignified appearance, her 
confidence, her poise and elegance. Betty knew she 
looked good, but she lacked the self-assurance and 
physical grace of the older girl.

She found out that Stacy was a senior at another high 
school in town, finishing out her grade 12 and 
graduating this year, was an honor student (straight 
A's), just turned 18, had her own apartment (Wow!) and 
lived alone. Betty was too embarrassed to ask about 
Woody.

It turns out Stacy knew her English. She seemed to have 
memorized the contents of every textbook Betty had, even 
though she admitted she'd never seen most of them 
before. Not just the English ones either. Betty was 
jealous, knowing how hard she herself had to work to 
keep her marks where they were.

This jealousy extended into the physical as well. Stacy 
was a good six inches taller than Betty, around 5'11", 
not including her shoes. This meant Betty was always 
looking up, and Stacy was always looking down. The older 
girl also had a better figure, filling out a little more 
in the bust and the hips, while still looking slender. A 
mane of honey-blonde hair cascaded (literally!) in waves 
from her head to below her shoulders. Her face was oval, 
framed by her hair, ending in a petite little cleft in 
her chin. Pale blue eyes, blonde, almost invisible 
eyebrows, long slender nose, and a wide expressive mouth 
with soft full lips completed the picture. Betty thought 
she looked gorgeous.

That evening's session ended fairly early, being their 
first, and both were tired, glad it was over. After 
Stacy left, Betty cleaned up the mess, then went in to 
sit with her father for the rest of the evening.

***

School that day was an absolute drag. It wasn't that she 
didn't like school or anything, she did, and got good 
grades to prove it. It was just that she couldn't keep 
her mind focused. It kept drifting off into thoughts of 
her mother, Stacy, her father, and the reason for all 
the arguments. She wasn't even looking forward to her 
basketball practice after school.

Some of her friends sort-of knew what was going on. Most 
were embarrassed by her relationship, but a couple 
understood and tried to help, even one of the guys. Just 
like the last few days, all she did was say hi and 
listen in while they all chatted.

Practice was worse than she thought it would be. Her 
coach kept harping on her to concentrate, to think about 
what she was doing and stop daydreaming. Afterwards, she 
was taken aside for a short chat.

"Look, Betty, I know something's bothering you. You 
haven't been yourself for days now. I don't know what it 
is, but I do know it's not a new boyfriend. You don't 
have that dreamy look. Now, I'm not the best person in 
the world to talk to about personal matters, but I think 
you should find someone to talk over whatever problems 
you have. Maybe go see one of the school councilors, or 
one of your teachers, or someone like that. It's really 
affecting you and your performance. Okay? Now go have 
your shower."

Mrs. Vickers was like that - brusque, no-nonsense, and 
to the point. A few of the girls that didn't like her 
called her a dyke, said she didn't have any feelings, 
but most knew that wasn't true. Mr. Vickers, who came 
out to some of the games, was proof of that. She always 
seemed to come alive when he was around, almost glowing 
with happiness, and you could see the love in his eyes 
when he looked at her. Sometimes Betty felt envious, 
witnessing how happy they were together.

When Betty got home, before she opened the door, she was 
surprised to hear a voice calling her name. It was 
Joyce, her neighbor.

Joyce was an older lady, just into her sixties, still 
active and enjoying life. She'd been living here for 
many years, ever since her husband died. When Betty's 
mother had been around, she and Joyce were close friends 
and included Betty in that friendship. She thought Joyce 
sort of knew she and Stacy were close, but Betty had 
never told her about their special relationship. One 
thing Joyce told Betty a few months ago, something that 
had surprised her, was that Joyce had never really liked 
Jonathan, her father, calling him a mule-headed antique.

"Betty, could you come over here please? Just for a 
minute. I need your help in the kitchen." That sounded 
weird. Betty had never been any good in a kitchen, 
especially if it involved food, and everybody knew that. 
Curiosity won out (as always) and she went over.

"Betty, close the door please. Thanks. Have a seat. 
Would you like a cup of tea?"

This was getting stranger by the minute. "Sure. I 
wouldn't mind a cup, thanks."

Joyce puttered around for a few minutes, preparing the 
tea, getting the milk and sugar, setting everything out 
on the table.

"Joyce, what was it you wanted my help with?"

"Don't be silly dear. That was just in case your father 
was listening. I wanted to talk to you about Stacy."

Now that was a surprise. Joyce rarely mentioned Stacy's 
name, never mind talked about her.

"Okay, you've got my attention. Go on."


CHAPTER 2

<<present>> Joyce reveals some secrets, a dinner run, a 
meeting.

<<past>> Heavy studying & their first date, lost 
opportunities, dinner and a show.


<<past>>

The study sessions with Stacy were grueling to say the 
least. Everything had to be perfect - every word 
written, every answer, every paragraph read. It seemed 
Stacy expected Betty to memorize everything given to 
her. Period. She somehow managed to zero directly in on 
anything Betty had skimmed or didn't understand. Her 
attitude was brusque, almost to the point of rudeness, 
and irritated the younger girl to no end.

Betty thought Stacy hated her. She didn't care much for 
Stacy either.

Things almost came to a head in one particularly brutal 
session about six weeks after they started. Stacy was in 
fine form, tearing holes in the work Betty had done, 
picking out small problems and faults, even where Betty 
could have sworn there were none. Betty had been having 
some arguments with her dad recently and was in no mood 
for this. Her temper was beginning to fray, her voice 
getting louder, her answers getting sharper.

After about an hour, Stacy leaned back into her chair, 
put her hands behind her head, and stretched. She held 
that position for a while, just seeming to relax.

"Betty, I've had enough of this crap for a while. Let's 
go out for a coffee or something. My treat. We'll get 
back to it later."

There were several firsts for Betty in this. She'd never 
seen Stacy in this kind of mood before. She'd never been 
offered any kind of personal connection before, and 
she'd never ever heard Stacy swear before. She was a 
little leery of this.

"How come the sudden change of pace?"

Stacy stayed in the same stretched-out position. There 
was a pause before she answered.

"My workload's been brutal lately. I really need a 
break, and I'd prefer it in the company of someone 
pleasant and charming."

Pleasant and charming? This was from Stacy, the person 
who'd spent nearly two months shredding every bit of 
work Betty had done? The same person who'd been snapping 
and growling at her the whole time? The one who Betty 
could swear hated her?

"Don't get me wrong on this, but I thought you really 
didn't like me."

"Mmmmm." She stretched a little more, using her hands to 
rub the back of her neck and scalp. "Betty, Betty, 
Betty. Whoever said such a nasty thing was both a fool 
and a liar."

"Stacy, you've been harping on me, degrading my work, 
and chewing me out every chance you got since the day we 
started this tutor stuff. What the hell am I supposed to 
think?"

Stacy stopped her massage and put her hands down the 
side of the chair, leaned her head forward, eyes closed, 
stretching and loosening the muscles in her neck. It was 
a few minutes before she answered.

"You're right. Look, I'm sorry. It seems I've been 
taking out my personal frustrations on you. If it helps, 
I'll tell you why. I've got a big workload at school, 
trying to maintain my grades so I can get a scholarship 
for college. I've got to work as well, as much as I can, 
to try and help my dad support me here. 

"My last lover and I broke up a couple of months ago, 
and I don't have any really close friends here that I 
can dump my problems on. I guess it's been a bit more 
pressure than I can really cope with. You've been the 
unwitting target of my aggravations. I apologize. And 
yes, I really do like you. I promise I won't bite you 
anymore. At least, not unless you really deserve it." 
She said that last bit with a shy half-smile, and a 
glance at Betty.

Betty saw that smile and decided that maybe Stacy wasn't 
all that bad. "Y'know, you have been acting like a she-
devil whose sole mission was to 
*make*my*evenings*a*living*hell*." Her voice became 
deeper and coarser as she said those last few words. It 
was a poor imitation of the announcer on the horror 
flicks, but still recognizable.

"Ouch! I guess I deserved that. I do need to get away 
from this mess, even if it's only for a little while. 
You haven't said yes or no yet, Betty." 

Stacy was still stretched out in her chair, head now 
hanging back, eyes closed, seemingly relaxed. For some 
reason, Betty thought she saw Stacy tense up slightly 
after that last sentence. It was rather odd, but it 
reminded her of a guy who'd asked her out on a date the 
week before. She'd turned him down (he was a geek) but 
still felt sorry for him when she saw that brief look of 
pain in his eyes.

It was something of a decision. She wasn't sure if she 
wanted to know Stacy any better, especially with the way 
she had been treated for the last while. But then again, 
maybe the real person was finally starting to show 
through. It certainly couldn't make these tutoring 
sessions any worse. 'Oh, what the hell. Why not.'

"Yes." 

Stacy had been tense, waiting for her answer. Betty saw 
the faint but unmistakable signs of Stacy's body 
relaxing slightly, especially around the shoulders.

Betty changed out of her sweats into tight jeans and a 
nice blouse. She felt a bit embarrassed about changing 
in front of Stacy, not really understanding why. Shaking 
it off as illogical, she still noticed that the older 
girl was watching her carefully out of the corner of her 
eye, especially when she was squirming into her jeans.

Jonathan didn't even look up when Betty told him they 
were taking a break and heading out for a cola 
someplace. It wasn't until they were in Stacy's car and 
heading down the road that either of them spoke again.

Breaking the silence, Betty went first. "Stacy, I'm 
sorry. I didn't realize you two had broken up. He seemed 
like such a nice guy, too."

"He?" Betty took that as a question of identity, not 
realizing there could be another interpretation of its 
meaning.

"Yeah, that guy you were with the first night you showed 
up at my place." Seeing a puzzled look on Stacy's face, 
she went on. "You know, the tall dreamy looking guy, 
sort-of Italian? Come on, Stacy. I'd never forget a kiss 
like that in a million years!"

"Oh. Right! Woody. He came over that night."

"That's the guy."

Stacy laughed a bit. Betty saw that the older girl was 
blushing.

"Sorry Betty, I couldn't help myself. That was only a 
couple of weeks after my breakup. And no, Woody wasn't 
my lover. He's a dear friend that likes to look after 
'his little girl'. Of course, he's got a few dozen 
little girls to look after, and a couple of them are old 
enough to be his mother."

"Don't worry. I can hear those dirty thoughts 
percolating through your dirty little mind, picturing 
all sorts of dirty little scenes. Woody is the 
maintenance man for the apartment complex I live in. He 
considers every woman in there, regardless of age or 
looks, his little girl. And yes, he's done this for me 
before, and for several other girls that I know of."

"I'm sorry if I got the wrong idea, but if I remember 
correctly, and I couldn't possibly forget this, that 
kiss he gave you was a far cry from some chaste 
brotherly peck on the cheek."

"Oooo-boy-yeah! You got that right. When that man kisses 
you, you stay kissed for a week. He's incredible. Who 
knows. Maybe you'll meet him again. And if you're 
really, really good, he might give you a kiss too."

"No way! After seeing what he did to you, I'd be scared 
to let him near me! Besides, he might spoil me for 
life."

"You could be right. I've never found anyone else who 
could kiss like that."

"So, who were you going out with? Would I know the guy?"

"Look, Betty. Maybe we can talk about this another time, 
when it's not so fresh and painful." Betty watched as 
several brief expressions ran across Stacy's face. She 
recognized only two. The first was a short flash of 
pain, and the other was... embarrassment? Yes, because 
she was blushing a little, again.

Taking her eyes off Stacy, she looked around, noticing 
where they were. They had already passed several of the 
fast-food joints Betty thought they might be going to, 
and seemed to be heading towards the university.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to a little restaurant I know. I really do 
need a break, and it's one of the most relaxing places 
in the city."

A few minutes later they arrived. It looked like one of 
those subdued, out-of-the way, expensive places. 
Annabella's. She'd never even heard of it before. When 
they walked in, it looked elegant, relaxed, and even 
more expensive. The maitre'd (yes, maitre'd, not 
hostess) was an older lady, good looking, well made up, 
wearing a modestly cut black dress.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and low-pitched. Her 
accent was as clear as it was unidentifiable. Betty 
couldn't even tell which continent the accent came from.

"Good evening. Ah, Anastasia. How nice to see you again. 
And who is this you brought with you?"

"This is Elizabeth. We've been studying a bit too much 
lately, so I thought we deserved a proper break."

"Studying?" This from the maitre'd.

"Yes, studying. Schoolwork. Really dry, boring, 
miserable stuff about people who've mostly been dead for 
decades. I thought this would be the perfect place for a 
change of scenery."

"Excellent choice. I believe I understand. Follow me 
please."

This was a nice restaurant. It was difficult to estimate 
how many tables or booths were there because of the 
strategic placement of potted plants and scattered 
trellis-works, with pillars and archways that sprang out 
from nowhere. Everything seemed geared towards making 
each table and booth as private as possible.

They were finally seated in a corner booth, blocked off 
from view by a large plant and by the corner of the 
restaurant's bar. The seat was an L shaped booth around 
a smallish table, leaving not much room for feet and 
legs. The table was covered with a real linen cloth. 
Subdued, soft music came from somewhere, as you'd expect 
in a place like this. They saw few other patrons on 
their way, and those were mostly women. 

This was not the type of place Betty had been expecting 
to be treated to for 'a coffee or something'. Then 
again, she really didn't know anything about Stacy. The 
sheer elegance of the place left her in awe, as neither 
her mother nor her father had ever treated her to a 
restaurant this nice. Dad occasionally took her to 
McDonald's for dinner, as if she were still a little 
girl, never thinking to take her to the kind of places 
he took Patsy.

"Anastasia? Elizabeth?" This from a rather puzzled-
looking Betty.

"Look around. Soak in the atmosphere. Get the feel of 
this place. Stacy's and Betty's don't come here. They go 
to Denny's. This is where elegant ladies come for fine 
food and drink. A place where Elizabeth and Anastasia 
can relax and enjoy themselves. God, I feel better 
already."

"Okay, but, Anastasia?"

"What can I say. Back then my mother was a hopeless 
romantic."

They were interrupted by a waitress, dressed identically 
to the maitre'd, except that the dress and accessories 
were in blue. She sat several items on the table - linen 
napkins, linen place mats, a tall pink candle which she 
lit, and a bud vase containing a fresh pink rose.

"Hello Anastasia, Elizabeth. My name is Jacklyn and I'll 
be your host for this evening. Would you like drinks to 
start with?"

Betty was thirsty so she asked for a cola. A pained 
expression flashed over both Stacy's and their host's 
faces.

"Do you even have cola here?" asked Stacy.

"Of course. We use it for mix behind the bar."

"I think I'd better order for both of us. Are you hungry 
Elizabeth?"

Feeling a touch embarrassed by her unintentional faux-
pas, Betty stared at the table. "Only a little. Maybe."

"It's all right, Elizabeth. I can see you've never been 
treated to a place like this before. This will be a new 
experience for you. Don't worry. My first time here was 
only a couple of years ago, and I was in such awe, the 
only memory I have of what we ate that night is that it 
was delicious."

"We'll skip the cola, and the meal, and go straight to 
dessert. I feel like committing a mortal sin tonight. 
We'll have two house coffees, a half-litre of your dry 
white, and two slices of that utter decadence you call 
raspberry cake. I think that should be enough to 
guarantee our fall from grace."

"Very well. I'll be back shortly."

"Stacy, what is this place?"

"Elizabeth, while we're here, I'm Anastasia. This is a 
first-class high-quality dining establishment. It has a 
very select and privileged list of patrons, mostly 
referrals from other members."

"So how come we're here? I'm not rich, and it didn't 
sound like you were either. I mean, this place almost 
screams expensive. How come they let us in if it's so 
exclusive?"

"Money and power won't get you in here. Neither will 
fine clothes.

Notice you were let in wearing jeans? Nobody even 
blinked. Discretion, manners, a nice attitude, and the 
ability to enjoy a really good meal are all that you 
need. That and a good referral."

"But this place has got to be expensive. How can you 
afford it?"

"Elizabeth, I treat myself here about once a month, just 
to remind me of why I'm working so damned hard. I LIKE 
it here. It's usually desserts, like we're having, 
because I rarely have enough left over for a real 
dinner. Yes, the prices are high, but not outrageous. 
And the food is always wonderful."

Just then their host (her words, not mine) returned 
carrying a tray full of food. Two coffee's, a small 
carafe of wine, two wine glasses, and something that 
vaguely resembled chocolate cake. Stacy poured two 
glasses of wine while Betty studied this thing placed in 
front of her.

It did resemble chocolate cake, because the layers of 
cake were chocolate coloured, as was the icing, what 
little she could see of it. There were about ten layers 
of cake, with alternating chocolate and raspberry icing 
between them. The lowest layer was thick with raspberry 
filling. So much shaved chocolate had been dropped on 
top that most of it had fallen onto the plate. This was 
all covered with a thick raspberry glaze. 

Looking more carefully, Betty saw that a handful of 
fresh raspberries (fresh?!) had been sprinkled around 
the plate, and a gold leaf had been pressed into the 
back of her slice, on the icing. This resembled the 
chocolate cake she was used to like a full wedding gown 
resembled a simple summer dress.

"Am I supposed to eat this?"

"No. You're supposed to taste it, savor it, enjoy it, 
revel in it.

You can't just eat it. And don't forget the wine and the 
coffee. They're necessary parts of the whole, if you 
want to have the full experience. Don't make the same 
mistake I did. Pay attention to your first meal here. 
Now, not another peep out of you until we're both done."

Betty relaxed and started to eat. It was delicious. She 
didn't know how Stacy got away with the wine, because 
they were both underage, but what the heck. It certainly 
did go well with the cake and the coffee.

After they were finished, Stacy poured them both a 
second glass of wine. Their host came by and cleared the 
table.

"How was your meal, ladies?"

"Divine, as usual. I don't know how much you pay the 
folks that make these temptations, but it's not enough. 
Thank you."

"You're welcome. Will this be your usual?"

"Yes. And yours as well."

"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

When Jacklyn left, Stacy slipped off her shoes, turned, 
and slid into the corner of the booth, draping her feet 
over the end. Betty didn't mind. It gave her more room 
for her legs under the table. They'd been playing foot 
shuffle all night, neither having quite enough room for 
legs and feet.

"C'mon Elizabeth. Kick your shoes off and get comfy." 
Betty did as she was told. Getting comfortable, though, 
was easier said than done. The bench was too hard on her 
feet if she tried to curl them up underneath her, and 
there wasn't quite enough room to turn and put them on 
the bench in front of her - they'd poke into Stacy.

Finally, giving up on getting comfortable, Betty was 
sitting up and stretching to put her shoes on. Stacy 
reached down, grabbed one of the young girl's feet, and 
pulled it up into her own lap.

"Let's have the other one up here too."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting comfortable. You've been squirming around 
like you had ants in your pants, trying to find 
somewhere to put your feet. Now they've got someplace to 
stay, so sit back and relax."

Betty put her other foot into Stacy's lap and leaned 
back. She was a bit startled by what had happened, 
especially when the other girl started to massage her 
feet. The easy-going atmosphere, the music, and the wine 
helped her to accept what was happening and just enjoy 
the moment.

They finished their wine in silence. Stacy stared off 
into the distance, lost in thought. Betty stared at 
Stacy, studying her face, watching different expressions 
appear and vanish as her mind moved here and there.

Thinking about it for a minute, Betty realized that she 
felt more comfortable here than anywhere else she'd 
been, including home, in a long, long time. It was 
totally relaxing and peaceful, with no nagging thoughts, 
no guilt about not doing something else, nobody 
demanding anything of her, and no Dad.

No Dad? That last little trickle of thought made her 
realize that Dad was indeed a major stress factor in her 
life. Even though they loved each other, her father was 
a constant reminder of the labor it took to survive, the 
loss of her mother, and Patsy. Mentally shaking herself 
to get rid of those thoughts, Betty let her mind go 
blank. She simply enjoyed this feelings of utter 
'rightness', sitting there, doing nothing, getting her 
feet rubbed, letting the tensions and worries slide away 
and be replaced by feelings of warmth, security, and, 
well, caring.

She decided she liked the older girl. Maybe more than 
liked.

Eventually Stacy said it was time to go. Neither really 
wanted to, but both knew they had no choice. Her father 
would probably be wondering where they went. Slipping on 
shoes and heading out the door, they were in the car and 
heading home before a nagging thought in the back of 
Betty's mind finally stepped up.

"Stacy, is it my imagination, or did we just leave 
without paying the bill?"

"It's your imagination."

"No it's not. Jacklyn never brought us a bill, and we 
didn't stop at the front desk to pay."

"It's just your imagination. I paid the bill. You just 
didn't see it."

"Stacy, don't play games with me. I was with you the 
whole time, remember? I never saw a bill, and you never 
touched your purse. So what happened?"

"Honest Betty, I paid. Remember how I said the place had 
a rather exclusive list of patrons? Most regulars get 
the payment details done up ahead of time, usually with 
charge cards. This saves plenty of time and bother, 
especially if a couple wants to leave in a hurry. 
Jacklyn asked if I wanted to pay in my usual manner, and 
I said yes, and told her to add in her usual percentage 
for a tip. Pay more attention next time and you'll see."

"So, how much did this evenings debauchery cost you?"

"No-no-no-no. No telling. This was my treat. Don't spoil 
it by asking too many questions."

By the time they got back to Betty's place it was too 
late to get any more serious studying done. Her dad 
asked where they'd gone and what they'd had and she'd 
replied that they'd gone to a restaurant Stacy knew and 
had some coffee and chocolate cake. They'd spent more 
time talking about school than they meant to, and didn't 
notice the time until too late.

Betty didn't really know why she hadn't told her father 
all about it, especially since it was one of the nicer 
evenings she'd ever had, but guessed that it should be 
something private between her and Stacy. Dad wouldn't 
understand. He might even get mad.

Stacy was packed up to go in a few minutes. Betty, 
thinking about it, thought she should thank Stacy 
properly for what she'd done.

"Anastasia, thank you for sharing your special place 
with me. It was really nice."

Stacy looked at Betty, blinking a bit. She seemed unsure 
about something.

"No Elizabeth, thank you. This was one of the nicest 
evenings I've had in a long time. It was very... 
pleasant... having someone like you to share it with. 
I've got to run now. Goodnight."

Stacy bent over and gave Betty a kiss on the cheek. A 
soft, tender kiss, not something you'd get from your 
maiden aunt. Then she rushed out the door and was gone.

Betty lay awake a long time that night, wondering about 
what had happened. The only way she could describe it 
was that she'd been out on a date, and been given a good 
night kiss. Stacy had also hinted several times that the 
two of them would be back in that restaurant, together. 
Very strange. She didn't know whether she should be 
excited or afraid. It had been a wonderful evening, one 
that she hoped to repeat, but it was difficult to 
understand Stacy. Which one was the real her?

Her cheek tingled whenever she thought about that kiss.


<<present>>

"Well, Betty, I know that you and Stacy have been lovers 
for quite some time now, (She knew? How? I didn't think 
she had a clue!) and that you haven't seen each other 
since that disagreement last week. (What!?) What I want 
to know is how you feel about Stacy."

"Joyce, how did you know about me and Stacy, and why are 
you asking me about this now?"

"How did I know about you and Stacy? Well, I may be 
getting old, but I'm neither senile nor blind, and I've 
seen the type of relationship you two have many times 
before. I made a shrewd guess. As for why now? Since 
that row you three had last week you've been miserable. 
It's fairly easy to tell for someone who's known you as 
long as I have."

"Now, you still haven't answered my question about how 
you feel about Stacy."

Betty looked hard at Joyce for a few seconds before 
something let go inside. She started crying, sobbing 
about how she loved Stacy, how she was the most 
important thing in her life, how she didn't know if 
she'd ever see Stacy again and how she hated her father 
for what he'd done to her and to Stacy and to her 
mother.

Joyce never interrupted, just making soothing noises, 
giving Betty the occasional tissue to sop up the tears, 
waiting for her to wind down.

"There there dear. Feeling better now? I always felt 
better after a good cry when I was your age, especially 
when the whole world was against me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break down like this. I 
think I'd better go home now."

"Don't be silly. We haven't finished our chat yet. 
There's lots more to talk about, but most of it will 
wait for another day. Right now, we're talking about you 
and Stacy. Is there any good reason why you haven't seen 
her since last week?"

Betty told her about the secret phone calls and the trip 
to the apartment.

"Okay, so you've tried to see her and talk with her, but 
haven't had any luck. That's what I was wondering about. 
I may be able to help."


<<past>>

It was the longest five days Betty had ever endured. 
From Thursday night, when they had their 'date', she had 
to wait until Tuesday for their next tutoring session. 
Unsure of whether she was looking forward to it or 
dreading it made things worse. She knew she was 
attracted to Stacy, but was very much afraid of those 
feelings. Betty knew what her father would be like if he 
even suspected. Also feeding her fear was the question 
of whether Stacy had any of those same feelings for her, 
or if her imagination had simply been working overtime. 

She'd never had these feelings before for anyone, boy or 
girl. The thought that Stacy might be a lesbian or 
something like that didn't bother her. Back when her 
mother was still around, they'd talked frequently about 
this sort of thing because a number of Mom's friends 
were bi or lesbian, and it had looked strange to the 
ten-year-old to see two women necking. Mom had even 
admitted to having a couple of lady lovers before 
meeting up with Dad.

Tuesday, when Stacy finally arrived, was a big letdown. 
All they did was talk about English, homework, and 
school. She was quizzed several times on the assignments 
she'd been given, and was chewed out for the mistakes 
she made, but that was it.

Occasionally, Stacy would get lost in thought, or looked 
like she was going to say one thing then changed her 
mind and said something else. She never said one word 
about what had happened. There wasn't even the fire and 
brimstone feeling, the hard-edged push that had been 
there before. As miserable as that had been, Betty 
missed it. It was as though Stacy didn't feel anything 
anymore. When the evening was over, Stacy left with 
nothing more than a perfunctory goodnight.

Later that night, in bed, waiting for sleep to come, 
Betty was running the evening through in her mind, 
wanting to find something, but not sure what she was 
looking for. She knew she should feel relieved that 
nothing else happened, but couldn't figure out why her 
eyes wouldn't stop leaking. Maybe it had something to do 
with that empty feeling in her chest.

Her cheek tingled, somehow still echoing the feel of 
those tender lips on her skin.


<<present>>

"Help? How?"

"Well, actually, Stacy and I had a long chat today over 
lunch. Never mind how I managed that because I won't 
tell you right now. I'm also not going to bore you with 
the details of what we talked about. Let's just say that 
she was very unsure about how you felt about her, and 
wanted some time for each of you to think things over. 
I've arranged for the two of you to meet later tonight, 
with me as a chaperone. That is, if you would like to 
see Stacy again."

"Of course I want to see her! When? How did you do 
this?"

"Okay then, it's settled. As far as your father is 
concerned, you and I will be going out to dinner just to 
cheer you up. He knows I don't like him, so he won't be 
surprised at not being invited. You'll just have to do a 
little play acting to keep him from being suspicious. 
Come on over at six, and we'll head out."

"Now then, you'd better scoot because your father's 
probably home by now wondering where you are. You also 
need to change and have a wash-up. See you in a while."

When Betty walked out of Joyce's place, she saw the 
living room curtains at her own house move. 'Oh great,' 
she thought, 'now dad's spying on me.'

When she walked into her house, she worked hard to keep 
her excitement down, leaving just enough there to make 
it sound like she was looking forward to going out to 
dinner with Joyce.

"Hello short stuff. Where did you head off to after 
school?"

"The usual. Basketball practice. Joyce asked me over for 
a cup of tea. We sat and talked for a while about school 
and stuff. She's invited me out for dinner tonight, said 
she'd noticed me moping about just a bit too much and 
thought that some good food might help cheer me up."

Her Dad looked at her rather suspiciously. He had seen 
her come back from Joyce's, and it wasn't all that 
unusual for them to go out to dinner together. Joyce 
preferred to eat out whenever possible, dragging along 
anybody she could get to go with her. He still didn't 
trust Joyce, she'd been too close a friend to his ex-
wife, was now far too close a friend to his daughter, 
and never hid the fact that she disliked him.

"Okay, you can go. Just remember, curfew at eleven, it's 
a school night. I guess I'll just have to fix my own 
dinner." He usually did the cooking anyway, so this was 
no great sacrifice.

"Thanks, Dad. I need to get washed up and changed. We're 
supposed to be going at six." Betty was relieved that he 
hadn't created a fuss. She saw that he was suspicious 
but wasn't going to start anything right now.

Six o'clock rolled around. Joyce drove betty almost 
half-way across town, taking the scenic route and 
doubling back on herself several times. Betty ignored 
most of this because she was rehearsing what she was 
going to say when she saw Stacy. Curiosity finally 
getting the better of her, she had to ask.

"Joyce, where the heck are we going? It's almost like 
you're trying to get us lost or something."

"No dear, I'm not trying to get us lost. I'm just making 
certain this is a private dinner, with no uninvited 
guests. It took me a while, but I managed to 'shake him 
off' as they say."

"Shake him off? Shake who off? Off what?"

"Well, you're father's been tailing us ever since we 
left my place, just like in the movies. I don't think he 
trusts me."

"What! My father, following us? Are you sure?"

"Positive. I didn't say anything earlier because I 
didn't want you glancing back and making him even more 
suspicious. This way, it looks like I lost him in 
traffic. Lord almighty, this is fun! We're going to be a 
few minutes late to the restaurant, but I think we 
should be okay. Having your father show up would have 
been a real problem."

They made the rest of the trip in silence. Betty was 
lost in thought, shocked by what her father was capable 
of doing.


<<past>>

The next several tutoring sessions followed the same 
pattern, with little being discussed except English. 
Betty was beginning to think that special night had been 
nothing but a dream, nothing but her imagination. Then, 
about a month later, something else happened.

It was during a Thursday session again, late, just when 
they were packing things up for the night.

"Betty, how would you like to go out with me on a date 
Saturday night. These two guys invited me to dinner, and 
we need another woman to make it a foursome." She was 
sitting in the chair, leaning back, seemingly relaxed, 
staring into empty space.

All the buried thoughts and emotions came pouring back. 
Betty sat heavily in her chair, too stunned to respond. 
She wanted to look into Stacy's eyes to see what she was 
thinking, maybe find what she hoped was in there, but 
Stacy wouldn't meet her gaze. The young girl's answer 
was unexpected, both to herself and to Stacy.

"Stacy, I thought you didn't like me anymore."

After a short pause, Stacy smiled.

"Whoever said such a nasty thing was both a fool and a 
liar."

Betty smiled too, her mind made up in an instant.

"Anastasia, I'd love to go out with you on Saturday, 
along with whoever else you're bringing. But if you go 
on treating me like you have for the last month, I'll 
hate you forever."

Stacy smiled again. "I think I get the picture."

Betty was tempted to lean over and give Stacy a kiss on 
the cheek. 

She resisted, not sure how the other girl would respond 
at this time. "Good. Now get out of here. I'm sure 
you've got things you need to do. Call me tomorrow with 
the details."

Not wanting Stacy to see her eyes getting misty, Betty 
started cleaning up her desk, putting things away and 
tidying up. She heard Stacy start to speak a couple of 
times, but then stop without saying a word. Soon she was 
alone again. Her tutor was gone.

There were new feelings in the pit of her stomach, those 
of excitement and trepidation. Excitement because she'd 
be going out with Stacy again, and that same nervousness 
tinged with fear about what she might be getting into. 
Is this what she wanted? Is this how her mother got 
started, years ago? The thought pumped even more 
adrenalin into her system.

Her cheek tingled, echoing that kiss, her memory of it 
still fresh after all this time.


<<present>>

The restaurant was a decent one, Italian, with a rather 
cozy interior, dim, but bright enough not to interfere 
with eating. Joyce led Stacy into a back corner after 
talking with the matre'd, stopping at a semi-private 
booth which was shielded from the rest of the restaurant 
by a number of large plants.

In the far side of the booth was Stacy, looking 
wonderful in a black satin dress, blonde hair done up in 
a cascade which framed her perfect face, deep red lips, 
and gorgeous blue eyes. She looked delicious.

Stacy, looking back, saw Betty walking toward her, 
feeling her emotions stirring and building up inside 
her. She was in love with Betty, and had been for a long 
time. It was just that she'd never been able to admit it 
to herself until this past week. Moving over, she 
motioned Betty to come and sit beside her, not really 
knowing what to expect, but glad Betty had at least 
decided to show up.

Betty slid into the booth beside Stacy and turned to 
look at her. All those carefully rehearsed words 
evaporated as she looked into her lover's eyes. Stacy 
held out her arms for a hug, and Betty fell into that 
warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around Stacy and 
rested her head on the girl's shoulder. 

There was no stopping it - she began to cry, letting go 
of all the fear and loneliness that had built up over 
the past week. The older girl soon followed, now knowing 
that she had indeed been sorely missed. It was something 
they both needed, and the sight of these two 
rediscovering each other touched Joyce deeply.

After they sobbed for a bit, Betty pulled back.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me anymore."

"Absolute nonsense. Whoever would say such a thing is 
both a fool and a liar." That brought a smile to both 
their faces. "Of course I did. I just needed some time 
alone, away from everyone, to think about what had 
happened. Besides, I was scared to call you after that 
horrible scene with your father. I thought you'd hate me 
after that."

"Never. I couldn't hate you, ever. You're the most 
wonderful person in the world."

"Nope. Just the second most wonderful. You're the best, 
my Little Blossom."

"My, my, my. You two sound like newlyweds after your 
first tiff. Really, you're starting to embarrass me!" 
Joyce had a big smile on her face, obviously not the 
least embarrassed by the two of them. "Here, you both 
need tissues, you've managed to mess each other up 
pretty good."

When they were reaching for the tissues, both noticed 
that dinner had arrived. Neither remembered ordering 
anything.

"I took the liberty of ordering for all of us since you 
two had your minds elsewhere. Besides, I'm hungry."

"Joyce, " Stacy said, looking into Joyce's eyes, "I 
don't know how to thank you. I doubt whether I would 
ever have had the courage to contact Betty again on my 
own, not with her father there."

"Piffle. Think nothing of it. When a person gets to be 
my age, there aren't too many joys left in life. Seeing 
you two lovebirds together like this is wonderful, and 
makes any efforts I made seem like nothing. Now if you 
two will excuse me for a minute, I think I'll go powder 
my nose."

Joyce got up and left, leaving the two of them alone for 
a few minutes.

"Stacy, how do you feel about me? Honestly?"

"Well, Little Blossom, it took me a while, but I finally 
figured out that I love you."

Betty turned her head into Stacy's shoulder and started 
crying again, this time with joy. "Oh God, Stacy, I love 
you too!"

A few minutes later, Joyce came back. "I thought you two 
were already finished with that mushy stuff. Here, have 
some more tissues. Lucky I brought plenty with me."

It wasn't long before the two of them straightened up 
and started eating.

"Now, I know you two haven't thought about this yet, but 
what are you going to do after tonight? Having the odd 
secret dinner together probably isn't going to be 
enough, is it? And I doubt whether Jonathan could handle 
having Stacy around or having you pop over to Stacy's 
all the time. So, both of you need to make some hard 
choices. If you want to be together, you're going to 
have to do it properly, regardless of what other people 
think."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Stacy knows what I mean, and she doesn't look 
like she's too upset at the thought. Well, Stacy?"


CHAPTER 3

<<present>> A pending decision, more revelations

<<past>> Dinner and a show, bad coffee


<<past>>

Everything was set for Saturday. The one regret Betty 
had was that she was forced to cancel another date, 
something she'd set up with a guy from her school. After 
she promised to make it up to him another time, he'd 
agreed. Not that he had much choice.

Robert, her date, was to pick her up at 5:30 before 
heading for the restaurant. After an early dinner, 
they'd go to a show. Later they'd play it by ear. Stacy 
was a little short on details, like what her date was 
like, where they were going, and what movie they'd be 
seeing. Betty really didn't care much about those 
details either. 

She just wanted to go out with Stacy again. Maybe this 
time she would find out what was going on inside the 
other girl's head. That's what was important. As for the 
guys, if they were anything like the ones she knew, they 
could easily be ignored.

Right on time, there was a knock on the door. Jonathan 
answered it.

"Hello, Mr. Brust? I'm Robert. Betty's date for tonight. 
Is she here?"

"Hi Robert. Come on in. Betty said she'd be ready in a 
few minutes. Have a seat."

Jonathan liked the looks of this guy. Big, maybe six-
one, six-two, strong, well-developed muscles, a fair bit 
over 200 pounds, but with a gentle face. Good looking, 
especially wearing the suit and tie. It fit well, 
obviously tailored. He was happy that his daughter was 
dating nice guys.

After a few minutes of conversation (pumping for info), 
it turned out the guy was seventeen, in the same school 
as Stacy, got good grades, and was into football, rugby, 
and weight-lifting. His name was Robert, not Rob, or 
Bob, as Jonathan mistakenly called him. He surprised 
Jonathan by also admitting to liking the theatre, 
especially musicals, and about learning to play the 
flute. It didn't seem to fit the jock image Jonathan had 
formed.

Betty came out into the living room. Both of the men 
stared.

She had tried to make everything perfect for her date. 
Her hair was brushed and styled and her makeup put on 
just so. She was wearing a calf-length pale silver-grey 
dress which was very sleek and form-fitting, along with 
a matching vest/wrap, shoes, and purse. In the daylight 
it didn't really go with her hair and skin, but later, 
in the evening, it would be spectacular. Judging by the 
looks on those two guys faces, it was pretty good right 
now.

Jonathan recovered first since he was generally used to 
seeing his daughter - but not used to seeing her look 
that good.

"My, don't you look fabulous today."

"Thanks, Dad." She did a pirouette, flaring out the hem 
of her dress, showing off a bit of her slim legs. The 
heels she had on gave her calves a bit more shape and 
dimension which made them even more beautiful.

Robert recovered his breath. "Yes Betty. You look 
stunning." Suddenly he grinned. "Elizabeth, you are 
beautiful. Stacy could never have prepared me for this 
moment. Mere words could not do you justice. You are a 
vision, sent from heaven. Come, before my madness ends, 
your carriage awaits, and beyond that, dinner and the 
theater."

During this speech, he'd gone over, taken Betty's hand, 
and led her out the door. This was something new to both 
her and her father, and neither were prepared for it.

"Farewell. Your daughter's safe return will always be 
foremost in my mind."

He closed the door, leaving Jonathan alone and 
speechless in his house. Robert was grinning from ear to 
ear.

"Hi Betty. I'm Robert, your date for tonight."

He led her down to his car. 'At least', she said to 
herself, 'it's a nice normal car.' If this was any 
indication, it would be an interesting evening.

She had no idea where Robert learned his manners from, 
but as she found out, he was a perfect gentleman all 
night. This was a far cry from the normal guys she was 
used to dating.

"Betty, are you all right? You haven't said anything 
since we left your place."

"Oh. Sorry Robert. You sort of overwhelmed me a little." 
Actually, she was wondering where Stacy found this guy. 
It had to be a setup, because guys like this don't go on 
blind dates, no matter how beautiful the girl is 
supposed to be. What the hell was she up to?

"That's all right. I guess I laid it on a bit thick back 
there. I wanted to shock your father. He pegged me as 
Mr. Dumb Jock as soon as he saw me at the door. I was 
also very impressed when I saw you. You are truly a 
beautiful young lady. You're going to make some person 
very happy one day."

"Flatterer." Betty tried not to take him seriously, but 
she was impressed by his earnestness and charm. They 
chatted together all the way to the restaurant.

It wasn't crowded yet, still being early, but it was 
getting busy. They spotted Stacy in a booth near the 
entrance. Betty guessed that the guy sitting beside her 
was Jordan, the other half of this double date. Their 
heads were together, him talking and her laughing.

He looked tall. Sitting beside Stacy, he was two or 
three inches taller than her 5'11", so he was probably 
around 6'2" or 6'3". He was long and lean, slim, but 
with hard muscles, black hair, and dark brown eyes. 
Definitely good looking.

She was outfitted in a long blue dress, moderate heels, 
matching purse, and a very pretty sapphire necklace. The 
dress was modest in design, covering her up almost 
completely from her shoulders to below her knees. It was 
form-fitting enough to show off her graceful figure and 
included a belt to emphasize her slim waist.

When they came up, Jordan stood to greet Betty. (Whoops 
- Betty only came up to the middle of his chest. Better 
make that 6'6" or more.) He was also wearing a suit and 
tie and it looked great on him. It was obvious, even 
through the clothes, that he had a great body. When the 
introductions were over, they all sat, Jordan beside 
Stacy and Robert beside Betty.

Jordan was also a very charming, genuinely nice person. 
He was nineteen, going to college, and enrolled in an 
arts program. He was heavily involved in theater and 
dance, played violin, banjo, flute and piano (all 
equally badly according to him) and worked out regularly 
with Robert in the weight room and on the track.

As soon as she thought it polite, she excused herself to 
the ladies room and dragged Stacy with her.

"Stacy! I'm mad at you! What the hell are you trying to 
do to me? Here I am, all set to spend an evening with 
you and a couple of dumb guys, and you throw these 
ringers in here. What gives?"

Stacy looked very serious for a moment. "You meant what 
you said, then, that you wanted to go out with me. It 
wasn't a bad joke."

Now Betty was getting upset and confused. "Yes I did 
mean it. What did you think, that I was monkeying around 
or something? Because if I've made a total fool of 
myself, I should go home now."

"I don't think you need to do that. C'mere and give me a 
hug, right now." The two girls embraced each other, 
neither saying anything. It was something Betty hadn't 
expected, not this soon. Holding the other girl in her 
arms did feel really nice. She was soft and warm, and 
Betty's head fit so nicely on the taller girl's 
shoulder, just below her jaw.

There was also warmth and emotion being returned in the 
blonde's tight hold. Betty could feel this in those arms 
wrapped around her, and in the rapid heartbeat and 
breathing of the other girl. It was the way one arm was 
holding her close by the waist, the other arm higher, 
near the shoulder, and the way her head dipped down and 
into Betty's hair that made her feel this was a lover's 
embrace, not a friends. 

She returned in kind, pulling Stacy closer and gently 
moving her head against the taller girl's neck and 
shoulder, letting her know that this hug was being 
enjoyed. Unexpected it might have been, but it was most 
pleasant, and told Betty everything she wanted to know.

Breaking apart, Stacy spoke first.

"You're partly right, and I apologize. Those two guys 
are ringers. I had to know if you felt anything for me. 
Either one of those guys could charm the cuckoo out of 
his clock, and if you were more interested in them than 
in me, I'd know your true feelings. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. For the longest time, I didn't know 
if I was really attracted to you or not. There was too 
much fear in there. Why did you wait so long before 
saying anything?"

"Betty, I think we should talk about this later, in 
private. We've got two men out there waiting for their 
dates."

"Right. You found them, you tell them that we're not 
interested. This was your idea."

"Not a chance! I'm looking forward to dinner and a 
movie. I don't get out much, and I'm gonna make the best 
of it. Besides, I told you they were ringers. They're 
safe. Just enjoy the evening."

"What do you mean they're safe? They've got wives or 
girlfriends or something? That doesn't stop men from 
trying, you know that."

"I'd better tell you then. Remember, this is a secret 
just between you, me, and them. You promise to keep it 
that way? All right. No, they're not married, and they 
don't have girlfriends. They're both gay."

"No! You can't be serious! I mean, those are two of the 
nicest guys I've ever met!"

"Believe it. They've been serious with each other for 
years. I said they were safe."

"Oh, God. What a loss to the female population. Two 
great guys, just poof, gone. How come it's all the good 
ones that get snatched up first?"

That broke them both up, giggling and laughing. 

"Now Betty, be serious for a minute. Those two guys are 
taking a real chance with us. They don't want to be 
found out. Both of them date regularly just to put on a 
good show. They're too nice to be treated badly. You 
will keep their secret, won't you."

"Yes Stacy, I will. They are nice guys."

When they finally made it back to the table, Betty, 
feeling very daring, gave Robert a peck on the cheek.

"Sorry we were gone so long. Did you miss me?"

Robert blushed, and Jordan looked like he might be a 
touch upset. At least, he did until Stacy gave him a 
smooch and started nibbling on his ear. Betty winked at 
him and he smiled.

"So, what movie are we going to see?" Stacy asked, 
looking around the table.

Robert and Jordan looked at each other, then looked at 
Stacy. At almost the same time they said "Movie?"

Using her most ferocious scowl, Stacy glared at Jordan. 
"Don't you dare. You promised me we'd be going to a 
movie. I've been looking forward to this all week!"

The two guys looked at each other again. Robert grinned 
and, using a very polite, almost Victorian English tone 
of voice, spoke. "Mr. Jordan, did you promise 
Mademoiselle Stacy that this evening's entertainment 
would be highlighted by a moving picture?"

Jordan grinned back, looking at Robert, using the same 
sort of voice. "I most certainly did not, Mr. Robert. I 
haven't the foggiest idea where she could have gotten 
such a fanciful notion. I certainly had no intention of 
going to a moving picture this evening. You may inform 
her of that fact."

By this time, Robert, Jordan, and Betty were all 
grinning from ear to ear. Stacy wasn't, because she'd 
been looking forward to one of her few evenings out. 
There was something going on though, these two were 
having just a bit too much fun. She just didn't know 
what.

Betty was smiling because she thought she knew what this 
was about, and was getting very excited about it. 
Robert's slip of the tongue back at her place had given 
her the clue she needed.

"Mademoiselle Stacy, Mr. Jordan informs me that he did 
not, in fact, offer to take you to a moving picture. 
Since he is a man of honor, I believe him. Now then, in 
order to clear up any misunderstandings, could you 
please tell me what his exact words were when he invited 
you out for the evening?"

There was definitely something going on, but she just 
couldn't figure it out. It looked like even Betty was in 
on the joke.

"He said, and I quote, 'Stacy, how about double-dating 
next Saturday. You, me, Robert, and one of your lady 
friends. I feel like going out. Nothing real fancy, just 
dinner and a movie.' Now you tell me where that lets Mr. 
Not-So-Nice here off the hook."

"Mr. Jordan. I ask you again. Did you invite 
Mademoiselle Stacy out to dinner and a moving picture 
this evening? The lady informs me that you did in fact 
promise her this, and has quoted you verbatim as proof."

"No, Mr. Robert, I did not. However, I could not help 
but overhear your conversation with the lady, and I do 
believe that she misremembers our conversation. A very 
slight flaw, but understandable.

"All right you two, cut the nonsense. You've all had 
your laugh. Now how about letting me in on your little 
secret. Even Betty over there is ready to split a gut."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, can't a guy have a little fun 
anymore? I mean, in this day and age, a little joking 
gets a guy into a lot of trouble. What's the world 
coming to, anyway? Is there no more mirth and merr..." 
Stacy cut him off.

"SPILL IT, JACK, OR YOU'RE IN DEEP SHIT!" Stacy was 
whispering, but several people at nearby tables turned 
to look.

"Right. One. We're going to a show. Two. We're not going 
to a movie. Betty, you tell her."

"Stacy, I think they're taking us to a real show. A real 
one!"

"If you two are funnin' us girls, you'll be in it deep, 
with no shovel."

"Nope. No funnin'. Four tickets to go see Phantom of the 
Opera. 

Center aisle, twelve rows back. Absolutely perfect."

"You miserable bastard! Making me go through all that, 
just so you could pull off a stunt like this! I oughtta 
knock your block off!"

Instead, she leaned over and gave Jordan a kiss on the 
cheek.

"Now you've really got me excited! When do we go?"

"First dinner, then show. It starts at eight, so we have 
plenty of time."

The rest of the evening was just as much fun. The guys 
were delightful, the girls excited and happy, and the 
show was spectacular, as expected. This was the first 
stage show Betty had ever been to, and it was fantastic.

By the time the show was over, it was too late for Stacy 
and Betty to get together for a talk, so it would have 
to wait for later. 

When Robert dropped off Betty, he was again a gentleman. 
He walked her to her door and gave her a really nice 
goodnight kiss. They stood there for a while, his arms 
around her waist, her arms around his neck, almost 
kissing, but instead talking.

"Robert, you'd better be careful. Keep this up, and some 
girl's gonna fall in love with you."

"Well, Betty, I guess it would hafta be unrequited love, 
'cause I'm already taken."

"<sigh> I guess I am too. 'Course, a few kisses now and 
then never hurt nobody, right?"

"So true. As someone once said, a kiss is just a kiss."

"Y'know, I almost wish I'd met you before, well, you 
two."

"No, you don't. Before I met Jordan, I was your 
prototypical ignoramus jock, dumb as a fencepost, 
blatantly stupid and unfeeling. He's the one that made 
me realize there was much more to life than pounding 
some other dumb jock into the dirt out on the field. Now 
don't get me wrong, I still like doing that, but it's 
not the only thing in my life anymore."

"You're sure not the same as any of those dumb jocks 
I've dated. Well, I'd better go in now. My dad's given 
up on peeking through the curtain. Now he's standing 
there watching. I think he's really curious. This is the 
first time I've ever stood out here talking with my date 
after a goodnight kiss."

"Good. I hope you leave him curious, especially after 
you tell him where you went."

After another quick kiss and, well, just for show, yet 
another, they said goodnight. Betty went inside to face 
her father.

He was sitting in his chair with his book, apparently 
reading. Betty wondered how he managed to get from the 
window to his chair so fast.

"Oh, hi. You're home, and right on time, too. How was 
your date?"

"He was really nice. Robert and Jordan are both 
wonderful guys."

"So, what did you have for dinner, and what movie did 
you see? I want to know all the gory details."

"Dinner? Oh, right. Dinner. Come to think of it, I don't 
remember what I had."

"Betty, what's going on? You did go out for dinner, 
didn't you?"

"Yes, Dad. We did go out to dinner. It's just that 
Jordan told us what show we were going to see before we 
ordered. I guess I was so excited I never paid any 
attention to that minor detail."

"What possible movie could get you that excited?"

"That's just it, Dad! It wasn't a movie! He took me to a 
real show! It was fantastic! We saw Phantom of the 
Opera! I've never seen anything like it! He's promised 
me he'll take me to another show someday soon too!"

They sat there together, talking about the show and her 
date for more than an hour before Jonathan finally 
begged off, claiming he needed at least a couple hours 
sleep before morning.


<<present>>

"Okay. Betty, I think what Joyce is saying is that if we 
want to keep seeing each other, and I certainly do, then 
you're going to have to move out of your father's house. 
There's no way that I could come around there without 
him knowing about it, and he terrifies me. I'm not sure 
I know where Joyce has in mind for you to go, but I 
think that's the only way we can have any time 
together."

"Well Stacy, you're mostly right, and I do know of one 
place where she'd be welcome, even if neither of you 
have thought of it yet. You should move in together, of 
course."

Both looked at Joyce, a little stunned. Then the corners 
of Stacy's mouth started to curl upward as she ran the 
idea around in her mind.

"No, I hadn't thought of that."

"Joyce, you think I should move out? That would break my 
father's heart. He does love me, I know, despite his 
yelling and arguing. He really does. I don't know if I 
could do this to him."

"Betty, it's time for some hard facts. You don't know 
too much about why your mother left, do you? You were 
only twelve at the time, and missed much of what 
happened around you."

"I know that she left dad to move in with another woman, 
in what dad calls 'an obscene lesbian affair'. He's 
hated her ever since, blaming her for the breakup. It's 
part of why I'm almost ashamed of what Stacy and I are 
doing. It hurts him so much."

"That's part of it, but certainly not the whole story. 
Now to fill you in on the parts your father never told 
you. Like Patsy."

"I know she had something to do with it, but Dad never 
talks about what went on between the two of them before 
the breakup."

"Well, your father was having an affair with Patsy for 
almost two years before your mother found out. After all 
the arguments and recriminations were over with, it 
ended up a stalemate. Jonathan told your mother that he 
loved her, and only her, but she couldn't give him 
everything he needed. Patsy made up for the things he 
was missing in his life, and he couldn't give her up. So 
Marion would just have to understand. He didn't see 
anything wrong with what he was doing, and she should be 
a better wife."

"Diana, that's the person your mom moved in with, by the 
way, had been your mother's friend for years. We all 
knew Diana was bi-sexual, but since she never really 
came onto any of us, it was okay. That's who your mother 
turned to for help and comfort. Diana was not a person 
to put up with the B.S. your father was spewing, so she 
loudly and publicly dressed him down on several 
occasions. Your mother wouldn't leave Jonathan though, 
because she did love him, and you, and didn't want to 
break up the family. That changed very suddenly."

"Jonathan saw how Marion had been going over to Diana's 
more and more frequently. He accused her of having a 
lesbian love affair on the side and trying to ruin all 
of their reputations. Her answer was 'So what if I am? 
You've got your mistress, what's the problem?' That's 
when he became unglued, yelling and shouting at her, 
calling her a whore and a bitch and other things I won't 
repeat. And that's when he hit her. He apologized 
immediately, of course, saying he was sorry over and 
over again, that he didn't mean to do anything like that 
and he'd never do it again."

"Your mother was packed up and gone the next day, before 
Jonathan got home from work. She did move in with Diana. 
They had not been lovers before, but certainly were 
afterwards. It was months before she could bring herself 
to talk to me about what happened. That's when she made 
me promise to keep an eye out for you, to make sure you 
didn't end up like she did."

Betty sat quietly for a long time, picking at her 
dinner, thinking about what Joyce had told her, about 
what her Dad had said, and the way he was acting. She 
had a hard time believing that he had actually hit her 
mother. The parts about Patsy and her father's excuses 
for taking a mistress she had no trouble believing, 
since she had listened in on most of her parents' 
arguments, and had long since pieced together most of 
the story.

"I'm going to have to think about this for a while. 
Besides, I'm not sure I could manage living away from 
home. I'd need a job, but I want to finish school and go 
to college. Without dad's support, I don't think I could 
do it."

"You don't need to worry about that. Your mother would 
be more than happy to help out in any way she can, 
financially or otherwise. She does still love you, you 
know."

"Joyce, I haven't seen or spoken to my mother since she 
left, five years ago. I doubt she even remembers I'm 
alive."

"Well, that's more of your father's handiwork. When your 
mother left, he forbade her from ever coming near him or 
his daughter again, saying she'd 'pervert your 
impressionable young mind' or some such nonsense. He 
threatened her with some nasty consequences if he ever 
found out that she had spoken to you."

"I get the impression you've been in contact with 
Betty's mother recently." Stacy was looking at Joyce, 
still with that bit of a smile, wondering what other 
secret intrigues she had hidden away in her grey head.

"Well, yes, this morning actually."


<<past>>

Stacy called the next morning, inviting Betty out for 
coffee, saying that they had to have a talk. That 
afternoon Betty found herself in a small, out-of-the-way 
cafe not too far from home. The place was almost 
deserted, with only one other patron and the waiter 
keeping the establishment from feeling like a morgue.

This wasn't going to be fun. Stacy looked too serious, 
and had ignored all attempts at conversation during the 
drive here. She didn't know what to expect, so she 
waited for the older girl to start.

"Betty, this may get difficult, especially for you. 
Please be patient, and think before you say anything. I 
don't want any harsh words to ruin what... " She trailed 
off for a moment. "What do you think our relationship 
is, yours and mine, right now? Please be honest, for 
both our sakes."

Feeling confused and a touch scared at how this started, 
Betty sipped on her coffee. She took a few minutes to 
try and figure out how to respond to this question.

"I'm not sure how to answer you. I've never fallen for 
another girl before, so I have nothing to compare to. If 
you were a guy, I'd hope we'd be going steady soon. It's 
not a crush, I've had those before, and this is 
different. I don't know how to describe it. That one 
night you took me out, it was one of the most pleasant 
evenings I've ever had. It wasn't just the restaurant or 
the food or the wine. It took me a long time to realize 
that I enjoyed that night because I was with you, and 
you were being completely yourself."

"God, this is gonna be hard. Betty, I like you, and I'm 
attracted to you. Nothing will change that. I enjoy your 
company because you are a very nice person. I just can't 
become serious with you, not now. When we went out that 
night, remember I said I'd broken up with my lover some 
months earlier? Well, she came back that weekend and we 
patched up our differences. We've been together ever 
since."

"Is that why you were so cold to me again? Because you 
had your lover back? So why did you invite me out last 
night?"

"Betty, it's all because you are so hard to read! You 
don't have the face or the body language to tell me how 
you feel! I needed a safe way to find out if you were 
attracted to me or not. There was no way for me to know 
that you'd fallen for me after one night. Especially 
since a month had gone by without you saying or doing 
anything to encourage me."

"You didn't answer my question. If you're going steady 
with someone, why did you invite me out on a date?"

"I invited you because I have feelings for you, and I 
thought you might have some for me. It was a very 
difficult thing for me to do. My lover satisfies my 
deeper physical needs, but isn't much emotionally. And 
there's no way I could take her on a date like last 
night. I was hoping that we could become close friends. 
I need someone to talk to, to share time with, where I 
can relax and just be me. That's what it was like with 
you when we went to Annabella's. I've missed that 
feeling ever since."

"But I tho..." Betty paused for a minute.

"It looks like I have made a fool of myself. I read more 
into those two nights than I should have. I am an 
inexperienced young girl, blundering around in things I 
don't understand."

"Don't say that! You are not a fool. I'm the one who 
should be apologizing to you, the way I've acted."

"No, Stacy. You've described what you want. You want the 
same thing my father wanted. You want to keep your 
lover, and you want to keep a mistress on the side, to 
satisfy those needs your lover can't."

"It's not like that at all!"

"No? Well, physically or emotionally, I would only be a 
mistress. I can't be one. I never would have thought 
you'd be like my father."

"Don't think of it like that! It's not! I want you to be 
my friend!"

"Is that the polite word for it in your circles? Friend? 
No, Stacy. I can't be just your friend. I don't know 
much, but I do know my own feelings now. It wouldn't 
work."

"Please Betty, don't say that. Why are you making this 
so hard on me? I care too much for you for this to 
happen!"

"You really don't understand, do you? It's not just your 
feelings. It's mine too. And you've just stepped all 
over mine. I can't, I won't, share. Anyway, I've had 
enough coffee for a long time. I'll walk home from here. 
Goodbye, Stacy."

"No, Betty, please. Not like this. Please!"

Betty got up and left, ignoring Stacy's final words. Her 
eyes were blurring, her throat tight and painful. The 
walk home was difficult, as she was determined not to 
cry in public. The humiliation, knowing what she'd 
unwittingly walked into, burned deep, almost as deep as 
her shame, realizing she was almost willing to go along 
with what Stacy wanted. Knowing the suffering caused by 
such a triangle, having seen it in her father, mother, 
and Patsy, made that impossible.

The only break she got that day was when she got home - 
Dad was out. Safely in her bedroom, she could think 
again. Was Stacy really like her father? She had a 
lover. He'd had a wife. She needed more than her lover 
could give. He'd wanted more than his wife could give. 
She wanted Betty to fill those needs. He'd gotten Patsy 
to fulfill his. 'It matches, I guess.'

Betty knew that she could never put herself in Patsy's 
position, being the cause, however indirectly, of the 
breakup of a relationship. Even if the relationship was 
flawed.

Could she even imagine sharing her lover, whether Stacy, 
or anyone, with somebody else? No... never. Besides, 
came a lonely whisper in the back of her mind, what if 
she were Stacy's lover. Would Stacy take a mistress on 
her? 

Somewhere in with those thoughts came a resolution never 
to fall into a trap like this again. 

It was obvious now that Stacy was a mistake, something 
to be learned from, something to move on from. There was 
no way she could become Stacy's lover, not after finding 
out what the older girl was looking for.

Having made her decisions, it was time to get on with 
the rest of her life. There were only two things left to 
deal with.

There was an empty feeling in her chest.

Her cheek still tingled.


<<present>>

"Come on Joyce, how could you do this to me! You've been 
talking with my mother and never told me about it?"

"Betty, I've talked with your mother at least once a 
week ever since she left. We were close friends, and she 
was depending on me to look after her daughter. I made a 
promise to keep it a secret until I felt the time was 
right for you to know. She does still love you and wants 
you to be happy. Your mother has also promised to help 
out in any way she can."

"This has been a very stressful day for you both, I'm 
sure. I think we should get going. You two are going to 
have to think about what's been said here. Betty, you've 
probably got the hardest decision to make, so I think 
you should spend some time on it, a few days or possibly 
even weeks. I think Stacy will be answering her phone 
from now on though."

"Yeah. Elizabeth, no matter what happens or what you 
decide, just remember that I will still love you." Stacy 
sealed that statement with a kiss.

Joyce had driven almost all the way home before Betty 
spoke.

"Joyce, do you think I could speak with my mother?"

"I'm sure she'd be very happy to talk with you. Come 
over after school tomorrow or Monday, and I'll see what 
I can arrange."

The rest of the drive was quiet. When Betty walked in, 
her Dad was sitting up, watching TV. After a few 
questions about dinner and the restaurant, Betty excused 
herself, claiming she had homework. What she wanted to 
do was think about everything that had happened. 

Could she move out on her father? It would hurt him 
deeply, that she was sure of. Could she go on with the 
way things were, only seeing Stacy at odd times, in 
secret, away from Dad? That hadn't been working at all. 
They had slowly moved apart, almost to the point of 
losing each other. Besides, they'd be risking another 
confrontation. 

With the strange things her Dad was doing lately, she 
didn't know what to expect from him anymore. If she 
moved out, she'd need a place to stay, probably with 
Stacy, and she'd need money, more than she was getting 
from her part-time job. There were too many things that 
cost, and expecting Stacy to support her was just too 
much. She did want to finish high school and go to 
college. Joyce's promises of help from Mom were just a 
little too nebulous to really depend on. 

Maybe if she could talk to her mother, like they used 
to, it wouldn't be so bad. Did her Dad really make it so 
Mom and her were completely separated? That was a really 
scary thought. If he could do that, he could do almost 
anything.

'Christ! Why can't Dad just accept the fact that Stacy 
and I love each other. It would make my life so much 
easier!'

School the next day was a little better. At least she 
could concentrate on what the teachers were talking 
about. A couple of her friends commented that she looked 
happier too, more like her usual self. She did feel a 
lot better, knowing that Stacy loved her.

There was a surprise waiting for her when she got home. 
Patsy, her Dad's girlfriend, was there packing up his 
things for a trip.

"Lizzy! How nice to see you again! How's my sweet little 
girl doing?"

Betty put up with this, and the hug and kiss, without 
showing any of the distaste she felt. Patsy was her 
usual self, bubbling over with false enthusiasm, talking 
a mile a minute, usually not even listening to herself. 
Her smile never reached her eyes, and her ever-present 
giggle and laugh rarely seemed genuine.

"Johnny called me last night and told me we'd all be 
going to the beach for the weekend. It sounded so 
wonderful, I just couldn't wait to get going. I came 
over to pack his things so we'd all be ready to go as 
soon as lover-boy gets off work. Isn't this exciting? 
And so sudden!"

"Please, Patsy, my name is Elizabeth or Betty. Not Liz, 
Lizzy, Lizbeth, Betsy, or any of those other nicknames 
you use. I don't like them."

"Oh, that's okay. You know I love you anyway Betsy. Now 
you'd better go get packed up. Your dad's leaving work 
early, so we'd better be ready to go soon."

"I won't be going to the beach. It's just you two this 
time. I hope you have lots of fun."

"Don't be silly. Of course you're coming. Johnny said it 
would be the three of us. So don't give me any of that 
nonsense about not coming, and go get packed up. You 
don't have much time to get ready you know."

"No, really, I'm not going to the beach. I've got some 
things I need to do this weekend and can't get away." 
This was partly true, since there was a basketball game 
set for Saturday. Her coach had already excused her from 
participating though, since she didn't seem mentally fit 
to play.

"Come on now, what kind of attitude is that. We're both 
looking forward to spending a nice weekend with you. 
He'll be heartbroken if he finds out you don't want to 
go. You wouldn't want to do that to him, would you."

"Patsy, I already told him I wasn't going. He didn't 
listen either. The only reason he set this up is because 
he thinks I need to get away."

"So what's wrong with that? It just proves that he cares 
about you. It certainly wouldn't hurt you to do 
something to make him happy for a change, now would it. 
I mean, how hard could it be, spending two glorious days 
in the sun, with lots of sand, the ocean, seabirds 
flying overhead, and all those delicious near-naked guys 
roaming all over the beach. Most girls would be drooling 
at the prospect. Now quit being silly and go get ready."

Patsy could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. 
Betty knew, though, that the only reason Patsy was 
trying to convince her to go was because the trip would 
probably be off without her. There was always an 
ulterior motive, usually selfish, behind anything she 
said.

"No Patsy, not this time. Anyway, I've got some studying 
to do. I'll be in my room if you need anything." She 
turned and headed for her room. Patsy got in the last 
word, like usual.

"Your dad's not going to like this, Lizzy. I hope you 
change your mind before he gets home."


CHAPTER 4


<<present>> Confrontation and a slap in the face, 
aftermath, even more secrets

<<past>> A long cold summer, a better fall, a Christmas 
card, a dinner date


<<past>>

Betty cancelled the last few tutoring sessions with 
Stacy, claiming they had already covered more than what 
she missed. Her father accepted that with nothing more 
than a questioning look.

There were two telephone calls from her as well. Betty 
basically ignored Stacy on the other end, saying that 
no, she couldn't make it for coffee that day, she had a 
date, maybe another time, and hung up. The conversation 
was for her father's benefit.

The rest of the school year went smoothly.

Mr. Valdez was a changed man ever since she'd seen him 
in Ms. Flanders office. He became rather shy and soft-
spoken, often blushing when speaking with any of the 
girls. Heck, some of them rather liked him now, he was 
that different. One thing was rather odd about him 
though. He rarely sat down, and when he did, he looked, 
well, uncomfortable, squirming around as though 
something itched. It became a minor standing joke around 
school because he rarely if ever sat in class, stood to 
eat lunch, and leaned against a desk or a wall when 
relaxing. 'Definitely odd', Betty said to herself, 
whenever she thought about the changes in him.

When it came time to write the makeup exams, they were 
administered by Ms. Flanders. Betty aced them. All that 
pushing by Stacy had helped.

Near the end of the year, one of the junior guys, a cute 
Italian type with big brown eyes, invited her to the 
junior prom. She accepted, and then talked her dad into 
letting her go. He gave her strict instructions on how 
to behave and what not to do.

On prom night, she lost her virginity. Too much alcohol, 
smuggled in, and a date that wouldn't take no for an 
answer. At least he used a rubber. It was distinctly 
unsatisfying. This was supposed to be one of the most 
glorious events in her life, and all she got was a sore 
and bloody crotch. He never gave her an orgasm, and 
never called again. She never told her father.

There was only one person in Betty's life now who she 
could really talk to, and that was Joyce. Even then she 
couldn't bring herself to open up completely. There was 
no mention of that last afternoon with Stacy, or her 
lingering attraction to the girl. She never discussed 
the details of prom night, only that she'd lost her 
virginity. 

Joyce did help her with the things a mother normally 
would have, even finding a doctor who would prescribe 
birth control pills without her father's knowledge. 
Those long lunches or dinners every few weeks were the 
only times Betty could open up to anyone. She certainly 
wouldn't dream of talking about these things with Dad.

The summer went pretty much the same way as that last 
winter and spring, dating different guys, rarely finding 
any that were satisfying, let alone one who could make 
her feel really good. The few she let go all the way 
were mostly inept. Even as inexperienced as she was, she 
knew there had to be better. 

Only once had she even climaxed with a guy inside her, 
and that was just barely. She considered finding a more 
experienced man, just to find out what it was supposed 
to be like, but knew she'd never forgive herself if it 
got out of hand. Masturbation times became frequent, 
increasing along with the frustration she was feeling 
with her dates.

Several times during that spring and summer she was 
invited out on double dates with Robert and Jordan. 
These were the only real high points of this period, 
except for her occasional lunches or dinners with Joyce. 
Everything else seemed rather mundane. Especially her 
other dates.

For some reason, whenever she got really depressed, her 
thoughts would return to that one evening with Stacy, in 
Annabella's. It wasn't the food or the wine or the 
conversation. What she kept remembering was the silent 
time they'd shared afterwards, just sitting there, doing 
nothing. This always made her cry, feeling lonely, 
feeling the ache of that empty hole inside her.

She could barely feel Stacy's kiss on her cheek as she 
cried, lighter than a feather's touch, as ephemeral as 
the faintest hint of a summer's breeze.


<<present>>

Betty had her nose buried in a history text when her Dad 
got home. She hadn't read a thing, but was lying there 
wondering what would happen if she did move out. The 
thought was scary, since this was the only home she had 
ever really known. Even after her Mom moved out, it was 
still home. Just emptier.

She heard her Dad and Patsy talking. Their voices 
sounded tense, but they were talking quietly enough that 
she couldn't make out what they were saying. A few 
minutes later, her father came up to her room.

"Hi short-stuff. What's this nonsense I hear about you 
not coming to the beach with us? I've already made the 
reservations. You wouldn't want to ruin the weekend, 
would you?"

"Dad, I told you yesterday that I wasn't interested in 
going. You weren't listening. I really don't feel like 
taking off for the weekend. Another time maybe, but not 
right now."

"Why are you trying to be so difficult? Getting away for 
a while is just what you need! It'll help you forget 
about things for a while, give you a chance to see what 
you're missing. Now get packed up and let's get going."

"Dad, I won't be going this weekend. I have other plans, 
including a basketball game tomorrow. You two go ahead 
and have a good time. I'll be just fine here by myself."

Jonathan was getting angrier by the minute at his 
daughter's refusal. "Are you planning on seeing that 
bitch Stacy again? I told you I didn't want you to ever 
see her again! That woman's no good. She'll ruin you, 
break your heart, then leave. I don't want you hurt. I'm 
sure as hell not going to leave you here alone right 
now. So get packed up. You're coming, like it or not."

Betty was also getting more than a little upset, but 
wanted to keep her cool. Let Dad do the ranting and 
raving. He'd have to apologize for it later.

"No, Dad. I won't be going. I'm old enough to start 
making some of my own decisions. And no, my plans do not 
include going to see Stacy."

"I don't particularly care what plans you think you've 
made!" He was shouting now, having lost control. "You're 
living under my roof, eating my food, spending my money. 
You'll bloody well do what you're told! Or else!"

"Or else what? You'll spank me? Lock me in my room? 
Ground me for a month? Or maybe you'll do to me what you 
did to mother?"

Jonathan glared at her for a few seconds, looking like 
he was about to shout some more. Then he stepped back 
out of her room and slammed the door behind him.

A few minutes later she heard her Dad and Patsy arguing. 
They kept their voices down for the most part, but she 
did hear a few shouted phrases. "You insensitive 
bastard" "Fucking bitch" "You never loved me!" After a 
while, the voices stopped, and she heard the front door 
slam.

Her door opened, revealing Jonathan standing in the 
doorway. He was staring at her. "I hope you're fucking 
well satisfied. Patsy's madder than hell at me now and 
it's all your fault. It'll be ages before she calms down 
enough to talk to me. You've ruined this weekend for all 
of us! And you can bloody well stay in this room until 
you're ready to apologize to both of us for the way 
you've acted!"

"I don't think I have anything to apologize for. I never 
lost my temper, I never swore, I never called anybody 
any nasty names, and I was perfectly civil to Patsy. The 
only thing I did was not knuckle under and do something 
I didn't want to."

"You listen to me. You've gotten Patsy upset. You've 
ruined our plans and made me look like a fool in my own 
house. And you don't think you've done anything wrong? 
You're grounded for a week. Longer if I don't get an 
apology. Starting right now."

He stepped out and slammed the door behind him again. 
Betty felt like crying, but wouldn't let the tears come 
yet. She needed to think. The last time she'd seen her 
father this angry was just before her mother left. Betty 
wondered if her mother had felt this same way. She 
needed to talk to someone right now, and the only person 
she thought would be available was Joyce.

Grabbing her purse, she headed out to the front door.

"Well, are you coming out here to apologize already?" 
Her father was standing in the kitchen, staring at her.

"No, Dad. I need someone to talk to so I'm going over to 
Joyce's for a while."

"I told you you were grounded. That means no going out! 
Especially to talk with that nosy witch next door! Now 
get back in your room until you're ready to apologize!"

Her Dad was now standing in front of her, towering over 
her, shouting. She was more afraid of him now than ever 
before in her life. She was also angry. She knew that if 
she backed down now, he would be running her life 
forever. Betty thought that this was what had driven her 
mother out of the house, his anger, and her need to live 
her own life.

"Dad, please. Calm down. I need to talk to somebody, and 
she's the only one around. I'll be back soon, when 
you've had a chance to cool off."

"I don't need to cool off. I see exactly what's 
happening! You're trying to do the exact same thing your 
mother did! I won't let you hurt me like that too! Now 
get back in your room!"

"No, Dad. I'm going next door to have a talk with 
Joyce."

The next thing Betty knew, she was lying on the floor 
with her father standing over her. She felt her cheek. 
It was hot, raw, and starting to sting. Her father had a 
very concerned and frightened look on his face.

"Oh my god Betty. Are you all right? I'm sorry. I didn't 
mean to do it, but you forced me. I'll never do anything 
like it again. Please, say something!"

Betty slid away from him, still on the floor, staring up 
into his eyes. Getting to her feet, she walked to her 
room, not taking her eyes off him until she closed the 
door. Once there, she looked in the mirror. You could 
see the imprint of his palm and four fingers across the 
left side of her face. Her lip was cut, and it looked 
like she would have a black eye. She stood there and 
stared at herself for a few minutes, her mind blank, 
unable to think. A knock on the door brought her back to 
reality.

"Betty? Betty hon, are you all right? I'd like to talk 
to you. 

Please?"

"Don't you dare step foot in here! Go away! I don't ever 
want to see you again!"

"You don't mean that, hon. You have a nice sleep, and 
we'll talk about this in the morning. You'll feel a lot 
better. You'll see." His footsteps faded away down the 
hall.

Betty looked around her room, feeling very much alone 
and scared. This is what her father was like. Never 
before had she seen him hit anyone. Now he'd hit her, 
because she didn't do what he wanted. Joyce said that 
he'd hit mother too. This house felt very big and very 
empty now. Two weeks ago it was her home. Now it was her 
father's house. He'd said so himself. Not their house. 
His house. His food, his money. Possessions. Just like 
his girlfriend and his wife. And his daughter.

Betty stared at the wall for a while. She still loved 
her father, regardless of what he'd done. But could she 
ever be happy in this house again? Or could she even 
stand coming back here, knowing that her father might 
hit her again?

No, she decided. She wasn't going to let anybody beat 
her, not even her father. Staying here tonight was now 
out of the question. Maybe after a day or two to think 
things through, she might come back. Probably not. 
Packing up as many essentials as she could in her 
overnight bag, she tried to prepare herself for the 
confrontation with her father. 

The tight knot of fear in her stomach almost made her 
ill. Her legs were feeling weak, her knees trembling 
slightly, and her hands were shaking. The adrenalin rush 
was wearing off. It was finally sinking in that dad had 
*hit* her. She had to get out now, before her resolve, 
or her body, failed.

Grabbing her purse and her bag, she tried for the front 
door. 

Jonathan headed her off from the kitchen again.


<<past>>

In the fall things started getting better. Two new 
teachers showed up in the school, along with a new 
councilor, and several new boys were in her classes. A 
couple of them even seemed nice. She joined the women's 
basketball team, not so much because she loved 
basketball, but because she wanted to keep fit. It was 
fun being with the team though, especially when she 
became the starter at left guard. Sure beat 
cheerleading.

She and Mr. Valdez were getting along fine. As long as 
she wasn't in his class, she didn't mind speaking with 
him. Besides, he seemed to be a pretty nice guy now.

She found a new boyfriend, Dave. He was quiet and a bit 
shy, but he genuinely liked her for herself, not just 
for her good looks. When she got past his shyness, she 
realized that he was also pretty smart. He worked out 
regularly and was on the track team as a middle-distance 
runner, but didn't have that jock mentality. She liked 
him.

They dated frequently, and every once in a while they 
went all the way. He was decent. Not great, but better 
than the others. At least he took time to see to her 
needs, not just his own. He was also romantic, taking 
her to quiet restaurants, surprising her with flowers 
and other small gifts, and showing an interest in her 
activities.

Most of her friends would kill to have a nice guy like 
this. She liked him, but there was no spark, no sizzle, 
no deep-down joy in his presence. Sometimes she felt a 
little cheap, like she was taking advantage of him. This 
wasn't the person to make her happy for the rest of her 
life. But for here and now, he was good enough to make 
her sometimes forget the emptiness that seemed to have 
permanently settled inside her.

Robert and Jordan still took her out on the occasional 
double date. Dave didn't like it, he was jealous, but 
she told him that this was strictly a friendship thing. 
She and Robert got along quite well together and had 
formed a close bond. They did finally go to another 
proper show, this time seeing Showboat. It was, in 
Jordan's words, 'A Grand Performance, worthy of acclaim 
in any age'.

To get some real cash of her own, she got a part time 
job. She was a 'P/T Assistant Stenographer' working in a 
law office. It was basically a glorified coffee-girl 
job, and she knew she got it on her looks, but the pay 
was decent. Her primary duty was to make and serve 
coffee to all her bosses and their clients. In her 
words, 'eye-candy.' 

They did expect her to learn to do filing, record entry, 
do some typing, open the mail, and help with the general 
scutwork of the office. It was usually interesting, 
sometimes fun, and the other girls in the office treated 
her as a person. She enjoyed both the job and the money.

Jonathan arranged a special treat for the three of them, 
Patsy, Betty and himself. It was both for Christmas and 
for Betty's 16th birthday. They went to Aspen, Colorado 
for a ski holiday, spending ten days there, from 
December 23 to Jan 2. It was fabulous. There were all 
kinds of things to do, and no end of cute studs to flirt 
with. Her skiing was so-so, but none of the guys gave 
two hoots about that anyway.

It was after they got back and sorted out all the 
holiday mail that she found a Christmas card addressed 
to her from Stacy.

It was very simple.

"Dearest Elizabeth

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

I've been thinking of you

Kindest regards, Anastasia"

Inside the card was an invitation for "Dinner at 
Annabella's" Stacy had written in "Please come. If you 
don't, I'll understand, and won't bother you again."

The invitation was for 7:00 pm. Yesterday.

She wasn't going to cry. She would *NOT* cry. They never 
had a relationship. Stacy never really wanted her. It 
had all been her overactive imagination. Even if there 
had been something, she was over it by now. The only 
date they'd ever gone on together was a setup. She'd had 
other relationships since then, and now she had a 
boyfriend.

It was only late that night, as she lay in bed, that her 
eyes betrayed her by leaking again.

She could still feel the faint ghost of that kiss on her 
cheek.


<<present>>

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know. Away from here for now. I don't want to 
get hit again."

"Betty, please, that was an accident. You were being so 
obstinate I lost my temper. It'll never happen again, 
believe me. So you just go back to your room, have a 
good night's sleep, and we'll pretend that tonight never 
happened. Okay?"

Her temper flared now, deep and hot. "Is that what you 
told mother too? How many times did you hit her before 
she finally left for good? My limit is once. Period. So 
unless you're planning on hitting me again, move out of 
the way."

"Betty, please. I never hit your mother. Whoever told 
you that was lying. I loved her too much for that. She 
left me to go live with that slut girlfriend of hers. I 
wouldn't let her do such disgusting things while she was 
living here, so she moved out. She obviously never loved 
me or you, because she's never called once in the last 
five years. I love you Betty. I don't want to lose you 
too."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you hit 
me. I'm probably going to end up moving in with my 'slut 
girlfriend' too, because I don't have anywhere else to 
go. I love you, but I can't live here with you, afraid 
all the time, wondering if you'll hit me again. It just 
hurts too much. Now please, let me go."

"Okay, I'll let you go for now. When you change your 
mind and you're ready to come back, I'll expect an 
apology. You're treating me very poorly, and you know 
it."

Jonathan stepped aside, and let Betty get out the front 
door. She turned to say goodbye, but when she saw the 
look of pain in his eyes, couldn't say anything. She 
closed the door and walked over to Joyce's house.

The door opened after the first knock. It seems Joyce 
had been expecting her. By the shocked look that 
appeared on her face, though, she wasn't expecting what 
she saw.

"Betty, my poor dear, come in, come in. What happened to 
you?"

Betty walked over to the kitchen table, sat down, and 
started to cry.

"He hit me." That's all she said for the next while. The 
tension and anger that had been keeping her going for 
the last little while melted away under the heartache 
she felt.

Joyce handed her some tissues (she always had lots) and 
murmured some soothing nonsense into her ears. Getting 
up, she prepared some herbal tea that would help calm 
Betty down. She also made a telephone call. Then she 
made up an ice pack and placed it over Betty's cheek.

It took her quite some time to work the story out of 
Betty, after she'd slowed down on her crying. The young 
girl was just finishing up when there was a knock on the 
door. Joyce looked out the window first to see who it 
was, then opened the door. It was Stacy, looking very 
rushed, like she'd just gotten out of bed (she had - the 
phone call woke her up).

Betty just looked blankly at Stacy for a few seconds, 
until the girl pulled her up into a big hug. "Stacy? Oh, 
Stacyyyy...." and started crying all over again. Stacy 
walked Betty into the front room and pulled the girl 
down into her lap as she sat on the chesterfield. Joyce 
followed them in, sitting down on a chair, and repeated 
as much of the story as she knew.

Betty felt a lot better after she'd finished crying. 
Stacy was here, and Stacy still loved her. She could 
face almost anything with her support.

"Okay, Little Blossom. Feeling better? Want to talk 
about it?"

Betty had heard Joyce fill Stacy in on most of the 
details, so she wouldn't have to repeat the whole story.

"He hurt me." They all knew she wasn't talking about the 
physical pain. "I don't want to be hurt like that again. 
I don't think I can go back there, knowing he might do 
it again."


<<past>>

When Betty awoke, it was to thoughts of Stacy. Her 
vaguely remembered dreams also had Stacy in them, though 
they faded fast. Her head felt thick and cottony, and 
her eyes were puffy. She'd been crying in her sleep. A 
slow chant ran through her mind that day, over and over 
again. "I'm over Stacy. There's nothing left. There 
never was. It's gone." Every once in a while a tiny 
voice could be heard, far in the background, saying just 
one word. "Ha!"

The next day was worse, and the day after that worse 
still. It was driving her up the wall. Finally she 
realized that the only way she'd be able to get over 
this would be to own up to her feelings. She would have 
to see Stacy, face to face. One way or the other, she'd 
know, and could then deal with it honestly. How to see 
her? And when? A vague plan started to form. She would 
face Stacy on Stacy's turf, but on her own terms. She 
would need help.

First, Stacy's phone number. It had disappeared during 
the cleanup of all the tutoring stuff. Her number wasn't 
in the telephone book. Well, hopefully Ms. Flanders 
would still have it. That would have to wait for school 
tomorrow. She'd ask first thing in the morning.

Second, where. Annabella's, obviously. It was the one 
place she kept thinking of. At least they were in the 
white pages. Odd that they weren't in the yellow pages.

Third, when. Now, and get it over with? No, she'd need 
time to think this through properly. So would Stacy. 
What would Stacy's reaction be? That Christmas card 
could be interpreted in too many different ways. All she 
could do is wait and see.

Fourth, how. Betty couldn't just call her and invite her 
out. She just wasn't brave enough for that. It would 
have to be done through someone else. Who? The only 
people they knew in common were Robert and Jordan. No, 
she couldn't get them involved. Annabella's? The same 
way Stacy'd tried? Well, only if they could guarantee 
that Stacy would be personally contacted. She would also 
have to make sure Stacy could cancel through them, if 
she didn't want to get together.

There was enough money in her bank account so she could 
afford to do this properly. She hoped.

Getting Stacy's telephone number from Ms. Flanders was 
easy - and quite embarrassing. She told the V.P. that 
she wanted it because her friend was looking for a 
tutor, and she'd heard that Stacy was good. Ms. Flanders 
stared at Betty until she blushed and dropped her eyes 
to the floor. "Riiiiiight. Here's her number. Tell 
your... friend... to put it somewhere safe, okay?"

Setting up dinner was a lot more complicated.

Since Betty wasn't a member, she had to go down in 
person to set things up and pay in advance. The only 
reason she'd be allowed to do it is because Stacy was a 
member. Without Stacy's agreement, dinner would be off. 
Betty gave them her own full name, address, and 
telephone number before going down to meet with Diana, 
who would be arranging things.

Lucky for her the meeting was set for 4:00 pm, early 
enough that she wouldn't need to make up any excuses for 
Dad.

Diana was a friendly young lady, in her early twenties, 
dressed in a pink version of the dress everyone there 
seemed to wear. It turns out she usually split her time 
between doing memberships and organizing dinners and 
being a hostess. (Hostess? But Jacklyn said she was a 
host?) She led Betty into the membership office 
(oversized broom closet) and sat at her desk. Betty 
perched in one of the two guest chairs. There wasn't 
much else in there except for one big filing cabinet and 
a computer. Not enough room for any more.

"All right Elizabeth. Before we start with the 
arrangements, I'd like to get something straightened 
out. I thought you said you weren't a member."

This earned her a rather puzzled look from Betty. "I'm 
not. I've only ever been here once, and that was with 
someone else."

Diana did some typing on her computer. "Elizabeth Brust. 
Same address, same telephone number, membership 
application received and approved four years ago, 
applicant age twelve, physical description seems to 
match after allowing for the age difference, three valid 
referrals given then, one given recently, and also a 
notarized release form from a legal parent. It certainly 
looks like you're a member."

"Four years ago? When I was twelve? Who would sign me up 
in a restaurant that I'd never been in before in my 
life?"

"Elizabeth, this isn't just a restaurant. It's... ack. 
Well, I can't give you the names on the referrals, 
they're always confidential, but I can tell you that the 
application and release forms were signed by Marion 
Brust, relationship, Mother."

"Why the heck would Mom sign me up here?"

"If you're asking me, I could only make guesses. You 
should ask her that."

"I haven't seen my mother in years."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. But according to our 
records, you are a member in good standing, with all due 
privileges. So, back to business. You said something 
about wanting to set up a dinner with someone?"

"Yes. Anastasia Augden. But I can't invite her myself. I 
need someone else to do that for me, and to see if she 
wants to come. That's part of the reason I'm here. I was 
hoping you could help me."

"Why can't you ask her yourself? Oh, sorry. I didn't 
mean to pry into personal matters. Of course I'd be glad 
to help."

By this time Betty was blushing, feeling quite 
embarrassed about revealing even this much to anyone. At 
least Diana was a stranger.

"What type of evening did you have in mind? A meal, a 
full dinner, or desserts and coffee?"

"I was hoping for a really nice dinner. How much would 
it cost?"

"If you go for the evening dinner, that's $125 for two. 
Two meals would run from $50 to $100, depending on what 
you ordered and had to drink."

Some thoughts flickered through Betty's mind. 'Ouch! It 
IS expensive here. Is this really worth it? The only way 
I'll ever know...'

"What's included with the dinner?"

"Aperitif, Appetizer, soup/salad, main course, dessert, 
coffee/tea, and two half-litres of any of the house 
wines. Drinks or any other wines are additional. The 
main course is your choice of the chef's two or three 
specials for the day."

"I think that's what we'll have."

"All right, and when will this be for?"

"Saturday after next, the twenty-first."

"No problem. The main course is usually ready around 
eight, so most people arrive between six-thirty and 
seven."

"Okay. Can I reserve a specific table for this?"

"Ummm, usually not, but in this case, I'll try to make 
an exception. 

Which table would you like?"

"Well, I don't really remember where it is. Like I said, 
I've only been here once. I do remember it's a long way 
from the entrance and near a bar. A table for two with 
an 'L' shaped booth seat."

"Let's go find it."

They found the table without much trouble. Betty asked 
how much desserts and coffee cost, describing what 
they'd had that evening. "How long ago was that? Early 
last spring? And you've hardly spoken to her since? That 
must have been a memorable evening."

It had cost Stacy around thirty dollars to treat Betty 
that night so long ago. Two night's tutoring fees.

Back in the office Diana did some typing on her 
computer, then said she might as well call Anastasia 
right away.

"Please, don't let her know I'm here. Tell her that I... 
well, that I was unavailable for her last invitation. I 
don't want any type of misunderstandings for this one. 
She'll understand."

"All right. Is this some sort of birthday surprise for 
her?"

"Birthday? It's her birthday?"

"You didn't know? According to the computer, her 
birthday is the twentieth."

"No, I didn't know. And no, it has nothing to do with 
her birthday."

Diana called up Stacy on the telephone. Betty listened 
to half of the conversation.

"Hello, Anastasia?... This is Diana, from 
Annabella's.... Yes, the restaurant. I've got an 
invitation here for you for dinner from a young lady 
named Elizabeth.... Yes, Elizabeth... Elizabeth Brust. 
She seemed to know you... You'll be here? But I haven't 
told you when yet... Oh, I see, it doesn't matter, 
you'll be here anyway. It's set for Saturday the twenty-
first, at six thirty... You'll be here and to hell with 
the party... Uh huh. 

"Elizabeth also asked me to tell you that she was 
unavailable for your last invitation, and she wanted us 
to contact you personally so there'd be no 
misunderstandings. I don't know what that's about, but 
she said you'd understand... Anastasia? Are you all 
right? Anastasia?... No, no, that's quite all right. No 
apologies are necessary. I'll inform Elizabeth that 
you'll be here... You're quite welcome... No, Anastasia, 
no trouble at all... You're welcome. Goodbye."

"Yes, that must have been some memorable evening you 
had. I can see why you didn't want to call her 
yourself."

"Diana, that evening, we'd been studying. She brought me 
here and we had coffees and desserts. Then she dropped 
me off at home. That's all that happened."

"All right. I won't pry any further. Anastasia certainly 
seemed, well, happy about the invitation."

Following that, Betty wrote out a check for payment, 
adding in a generous tip, and went home. Now that dinner 
was set, and she couldn't back down, she was feeling 
excited, and, yes, she dreaded it too. Why had Stacy 
sent her that invitation? And why couldn't she get that 
girl out of her mind?

Time seemed to stand still.


<<present>>

"Don't worry," Joyce said. "You don't have to go back 
there. There are too many people that love you for you 
to have to go back. We'll work something out, you'll 
see. Besides, there's always a silver lining no matter 
how bad things look. Just think, you could move in with 
Stacy now. I'm sure you'd both wish it was under better 
circumstances, but what the heck. Or you could stay with 
me for a few days, or stay with another friend 
somewhere, or get a motel room and stay away from 
everyone for a while."

"That's right, Betty, it's your choice." Stacy started 
nibbling on Betty's ear, which happened to be almost in 
the older girl's mouth anyway. "Of course, I know which 
choice I'd like."

"Stacy, please, we've got an audience." She blushed.

"That's all right, dearie, it's nothing I haven't seen 
before. Don't forget, I have been around a while."

A sudden thought crossed Betty's mind, popping out of 
nowhere, making her wonder.

"Joyce, were you ever mom's lover?"

"Heavens, where did that come from?" She smiled, and 
almost giggled. "No, child, I was never your mother's 
lover. She hinted that she was willing, once or twice, 
after moving away from your father, but that sort of 
thing wasn't really for me. I'm too old-fashioned to 
change my tastes. Besides, your mother had a lover 
already."

"Now don't go giving me any funny looks either. I don't 
think there's anything wrong with what you two are 
doing. I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by it. I think you 
make the cutest couple of lovebirds I've seen in a long 
time. Enough of this, or I'll start crying too."

"Joyce, you said you could maybe let me talk with my 
mother. Could I do that now?"

"I'd love to, hon, but she's gone for the weekend on 
business. Won't be back until Monday afternoon. We'll 
call then. I don't want to give you the number because I 
promised your mother I'd never give it out to anyone, 
especially if there was any chance your father could get 
hold of it. She went through a lot of trouble to make 
sure he couldn't trace her down."

"Just to make you feel a little better, though, there's 
one more person in on this conspiracy. You can call on 
him for help if necessary. Betty, you've never met him 
before, but Stacy has. His name is Walter."

Now Stacy was confused. "Walter? I don't know any 
Walter." She was running through all her friends in town 
and all the people she knew from the university, but 
there was no Walter that stood out.

"Sure you do. Walter." Seeing the puzzled look still 
there, she added "Walter. The guy that sends you money 
every month."

"Walter? You mean Daddy? My father?" Somehow, she was 
having a hard time grasping this. "I've never told him 
anything. I mean, he lives clear across the state. How 
would he know anything about this?"

"You may find this strange, but it's a very small world 
we live in. Your father and Betty's mother actually 
dated for a while in high school. They bumped into each 
other about a year ago and became friends again. After 
talking about their lives and their families for a while 
(what Marion was willing to discuss, anyway) he 
mentioned that his daughter Stacy was going to college 
in this town. 

"Your mother said that she hadn't seen you in years, but 
knew that you had a close friend named Stacy and that 
your name was Betty. Now you have mentioned Betty to 
your father a few times, just not in any detail. They 
both thought it odd, so your mother called me and asked 
for Stacy's last name."

"Augden" said Betty and Stacy together.

"Right. Your mother had already told him of her prior 
female lovers and had hinted that her daughter was 
probably involved with another woman too, long before 
either of them had made the connection that they were 
both talking about the same people when discussing their 
daughters and their daughters' friends. 

"That's when she asked Walt if he could keep a secret. 
She figured that he'd be better off if she laid it all 
out immediately, rather than him finding out for sure 
later. He agreed, stating that he would keep it as long 
as it wasn't going to hurt his daughter. She thought 
that was fair, so she filled him in on everything, 
including how I was fairly certain you two were lovers."

"According to your mother, that stunned him. She didn't 
see him for several days, and when she did, he wouldn't 
talk to her about you two. Instead, he started asking 
her about her relationship with Diana. Now your mother 
wasn't living with Diana anymore, but had mentioned her 
to Walt."

"Mom and Diana aren't together anymore?"

"No, and you'd better talk to her about it personally. 
She'd be better at explaining it than I would. Anyway, 
Walt questioned Marion about her relationship with Diana 
several times. I guess he got the answers he was looking 
for, because he gradually came to accept the fact that 
his daughter might be dating another woman. I'm still 
not sure he believed it, but he no longer seemed as 
upset."

"So that's how you managed to find me at that motel. I 
thought the only person who knew where I'd gone to stay 
was my father."

"That's right. I wormed it out of him. I figured the 
breaking point was coming up fast, and you two should at 
least know how you felt about each other before anything 
else happened. I almost messed that up by being too 
late."

"I'm going to have a long talk with Daddy, real soon." 
Stacy never had spoken openly about her sexuality with 
her father. He was one of the old-fashioned types who 
believed in family values, and a woman's place was in 
the home. He let her go to university figuring that it 
was probably one of the best places in the world to meet 
eligible young men. "Now that he knows, and seems to be 
used to the idea, maybe I can talk to him about how I 
feel."

"That's probably a good idea. But save it for later. 
Right now, it's time to sort out what Betty will be 
doing, at least for the next few days. You're welcome to 
stay here for a couple of nights if you like, but I 
think it may be just a little too close to your father 
for your peace of mind. I'm going to go make some fresh 
tea and fix myself a snack. Anyone else hungry?"

"No thanks", Stacy replied. "I ate just before I 
crashed, not too long before you called."

"Yes, please. I'm starved." At the mention of food, 
Betty's stomach reminded her that she'd missed dinner.

"Okay, I'll be back in a while." She got up and left the 
two of them alone in the living room.


CHAPTER 5


<<present>> The decision, what to do what to do

<<past>> The dinner, another dessert date with 
conversation, the giveaway


<<past>>

Betty didn't think the day would ever arrive, but 
somehow she ended up standing in front of Annabella's, 
working up the nerve to go in. It was 6:20. She wanted 
to be there first, wanted to be able to study Stacy's 
face when Stacy finally saw her.

Her dad had been no problem. He thought she was going 
out with Robert for the evening. She'd asked Robert 
beforehand, and he said it would be okay this once, 
because it was so important to her, and he'd cover. He 
also volunteered to pick her up and drop her off at the 
restaurant, and said to call him if she needed a ride 
home. He was such a nice guy.

It had taken hours for her to get her hair and makeup 
just so. She was wearing her new pale pink evening 
dress, with matching everything. Dad probably thought 
she was wanting to turn every head in the place, making 
the guys drool, and the girls green with envy. He was 
close. It was just one head she wanted to turn. You'd 
rarely see anyone better in the fashion magazines. Betty 
wasn't really sure why it was so important to her to 
make a good impression on Stacy, but reasoned that it 
couldn't hurt.

Finally, steeling herself, she walked in. The maitre'd 
was the same lady who'd been there so long before.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Yes. I have a reservation. It's for Betty, uh, I mean 
Elizabeth Brust."

"Elizabeth... Elizabeth .. Yes, right here. Oh. Now I 
remember you, you've been in once before, haven't you? 
Quite some time ago."

"Well, yes I have."

"So you're that Elizabeth. Welcome. I'll have Jacklyn 
show you to your table. I hope you have a very pleasant 
evening."

The restaurant was much more crowded than last time, 
even though Betty couldn't see very many of the patrons. 
There were quite a few waitresses (Hosts? Hostesses?) 
running around. All were wearing the same style of 
dress, but some were in blue, some were in pink, two 
others were in black, and she'd seen one in white. 

The odd thing was that the accouterments rarely matched 
the colour of the dress. One person in a pink dress 
would be wearing blue jewelry and a black scarf, one in 
a blue dress had pink accessories. The ones in black 
were all in black, but the one in white had red 
accessories, the only colour she'd seen other than blue, 
pink, white and black.

When Jacklyn finished guiding Betty through the maze to 
her table, Betty had to ask.

"What do all the different colours the waitresses, uh, I 
mean hosts, what do the colours they wear mean?"

Jacklyn looked at her for a moment, wearing a very 
strange expression. Then, with a big smile, she said 
"You are an innocent, aren't you. Well, I'm not going to 
ruin things by explaining the differences. It will 
probably help you to know, though, that all the ladies 
wearing black or blue dresses, like me, are hosts, and 
the ladies in pink, white, or yellow are hostesses. Now, 
would you like something to drink while you wait?"

This only served to confuse her further. She decided to 
ignore it for now.

"What would you recommend? I don't usually drink much, 
and I don't want to get drunk."

"I'd recommend a Brazilian special, light. It's a good, 
smooth, creamy coffee, light on the taste buds, with 
just enough creme 'd cacao added to give it a slight 
edge."

"Okay, I'll try it."

The coffee was good, and wasn't too strong.

Stacy (sorry, not Stacy - Anastasia) came in at 6:45. 
She looked better than she had the night of the show. 
Her hair was up, piled high, with a simple silver comb 
helping to hold it in place. Her makeup was flawless, 
lipstick a pale pink. The dress she wore was a light 
blue smock, dropping to just above her knees, cut to 
display her figure. Dark blue stockings, shoes, belt, 
and a white purse completed the picture. She looked 
beautiful - nervous and uptight, yes, but still 
gorgeous.

After very simple "hi's" were exchanged, Betty slid over 
into the corner seat, leaving Stacy sitting down on the 
outside. The older girl ordered a Berlin mint coffee to 
start with. Neither said anything until after their host 
delivered her drink. She broke the silence.

"Why did you invite me here today?"

It took a minute for Betty to answer.

"I have to know. That night we were here, I need to know 
if it was us, or if it was my imagination. This is the 
only way for me to find out. I thought I'd figured it 
out once, way back then, but I don't know anymore. 
Please, let's not ruin anything by talking right now. 
I'd like to have us enjoy a really nice meal together. 
Please, Anastasia?"

"Yes Elizabeth. I think I could enjoy having a nice 
meal. Together."

When their host came to ask about appetizers, she also 
asked if the ladies wanted full dinners or the lighter 
portions. Lighter consisted of less of everything except 
the main dish. This was done because there were many 
women who couldn't finish a full meal, never mind enjoy 
dessert afterwards, and felt guilty leaving food behind. 
Both asked for the lighter portions.

It was a fabulous dinner. They shared a shrimp cocktail 
for an appetizer, and ordered a half-litre of the house 
dry white wine to go with their meal. Next, Betty had 
some Beaufort bisque soup while Stacy had a Spanish 
salad. Their main course choices were veal chops 
savoyarde, wine-braised pork tenderloin with mushrooms, 
or chicken breast with artichokes. Betty picked the veal 
and Stacy picked the pork. 

They shared some from each other's plates, of course. 
Betty made the first move by stealing a mushroom from 
Stacy, then looking totally innocent, like she'd never 
ever do anything like that. Stacy retaliated by pointing 
out one of the hostesses, then stealing a piece of ham 
from Betty (yes, that's part of the veal dish) when she 
looked up. It escalated from there. Betty was never sure 
afterwards whether she'd had more of her meal or of 
Stacy's. Both were delicious.

They both relaxed a bit after finishing the main course, 
before ordering dessert, and just leaned back. Betty 
ordered another half-litre of wine. She also asked to 
see a menu, wanting to know what other desserts were 
available. Their host brought them desserts-only menus. 
Everything had pictures, even the weekly special. Betty 
thought she'd gain five pounds just looking.

After the two of them drooled for a while, pointing out 
some that looked especially nice, they ordered. Stacy 
went for the chocolate raspberry torte (what can I say - 
she likes raspberries). Betty couldn't decide whether 
she wanted that fruited streusel thingy with the orange 
cream, or the grand marnier chocolate mousse torte. When 
Stacy pointed at the little river of chocolate sauce 
running off the whipped cream, she went for the 
chocolate mousse. Yes, these were decadent times.

Before the desserts came, there was a surprise. The 
maitre'd arrived at the table with two other girls, one 
'host' and one 'hostess'.

"Good evening Elizabeth, Anastasia. To honor your 
birthday (nodding at Stacy) and your first official 
dinner here (nodding at Betty), may I present a gift 
from the management."

The 'gifts' were two beautiful bouquets of flowers, both 
centrepieced with carnations surrounded by pink, white, 
and green. One had white carnations, the other had pink.

"They're gorgeous!" 

Betty reached out to take the one with pink carnations, 
but Stacy stopped her and handed her the white bouquet. 
She took the pink for herself.

Both girls thanked the maitre'd and the host and 
hostess.

Dessert done, sipping on the last of the wine, coffees 
on order, Stacy relaxed by slipping off her shoes, 
turning, and sitting in the corner. Betty slipped off 
her shoes, turned, leaned back into the corner padding, 
and put both of her feet into Stacy's lap. The older 
girl turned and looked at her, wearing a puzzled 
expression. It looked like she was about to say 
something, but then turned back without a word. She 
began to massage the feet in her lap.

They sat there like that for some time, through the last 
of the wine and then through the coffees, Betty watching 
Stacy, Stacy staring off into nowhere. Betty broke their 
long silence.

"Will you invite me here for dessert again?"

After a long pause. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes please. But not right away. Maybe in a week or 
two."

"It's a date. Guaranteed."

Betty ordered two more coffees. She didn't want to leave 
yet.

"Elizabeth, how did you arrange this? It's a member's 
only restaurant."

"When I first called, they said that if you were coming, 
they would let me use your membership, if you agreed. 
That wasn't necessary."

"It wasn't?"

"No. I'm a member."

Stacy turned and looked Betty straight in the eye. "How 
did you become a member?"

Betty smiled and shrugged her shoulders. After a minute 
with no other reply, Stacy turned her head back and 
stared off into the distance again.

"Elizabeth, do you know what this place is?"

"No, Anastasia, I don't. You and a few other people have 
made me realize it's not just a nice restaurant. I found 
out that some of the girls are 'hosts', and some are 
'hostesses'. It just made me more confused."

"That's all right. In time, you'll learn. Right now, 
we'll leave you as an innocent, in white and pink."

Eventually they packed up to go. Stacy offered Betty a 
ride, but was refused. She said she wanted the evening 
to end just like this. It was late, so she called a cab. 
She also called Robert to let him know she was okay and 
wouldn't need a ride home, and thanked him again.

Betty felt better now than she had in a long, long time.


<<present>>

The two of them just sat there for a while, Stacy 
humming a bit and playing with Betty's hair, Betty 
trying to sort out how she felt about moving away from 
home, her father, Stacy, her mother, moving in with 
Stacy, how her friends would react, how it would feel 
living with Stacy, going back to school Monday, how she 
was going to survive on her own, and how nice it felt to 
be sitting there with Stacy. She giggled, suddenly 
realizing where her thoughts kept circling around to.

"What's so funny, Little Blossom?"

"Well, it's a bit strange. I'm trying to sort out what 
to do about Dad, moving out, school, and everything 
else. The trouble is, every line of thought I follow 
ends up with you in it. I guess I really am in love."

"Now that you brought it up, I've been sitting here 
daydreaming, not thinking about anything in particular, 
except about how right it feels with you here. I already 
know I love you. I figured that out this past week. I 
missed you so much it hurt. I just didn't know how you 
felt, because we've never used the word love before. I 
don't want to lose you. Now, look me in the eye. 
Elizabeth, I love you."

Betty's heart just melted, right there. Stacy was 
serious, and meant every word. Betty knew she loved 
Stacy, but until that moment didn't realize how much, or 
how much Stacy loved her.

Fighting back her tears, Betty replied. "Anastasia 
Celeste Augden, I love you too. Now kiss me." And they 
did, in a long, passionate embrace. It was like being in 
heaven, being held by the person she most loved in the 
world, knowing that she was loved just as much in 
return, and then feeling and tasting the passion in 
those lips and that tongue, their kiss being both soft 
and sensuous. Betty could care less that it hurt her 
face. This was interrupted by an "Ahem" from the 
doorway, sometime after it started.

"I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds, but the tea is 
hot and the sandwiches are cold. Therefore I need you 
both in the kitchen. Come along." They got up and 
followed Joyce. A plate of cold cuts, bread, and fixings 
was set out, along with a large pot of fresh tea.

After they all sat down and the tea was poured, Joyce 
spoke again.

"I assume from what I saw in there that you've made up 
your mind where you'll be staying?"

"I think I'll be moving in with Stacy. That is, if 
she'll have me."

"Elizabeth, you're being silly again. I'd be heartbroken 
if you even considered going anywhere else. Of course I 
want you." And with a wink, "In more ways than one."


<<past>>

Sunday she had another date with Dave, her boyfriend. To 
his surprise and delight she was the aggressor that 
night, doing things he had only ever had wet dreams of. 
She satisfied herself and him physically several times, 
but emotionally she felt very little. Finally she had to 
admit to herself that she was using him as a shield 
against finding someone who would inspire feelings, and 
possibly pain again, in her. It was time to let him go, 
regardless of how things went with Stacy.

Stacy called the following week, setting up a date for 
Thursday, around eight. Betty was thrilled, but nervous 
and uptight as well. She liked Stacy a lot, and knew now 
that her feelings for the other girl were real. It just 
felt right in the restaurant when they'd had dinner. 
This yearning to be with Stacy was there and hard to 
resist. 

Could she? 

According to the half-conversation she'd heard in 
Diana's office, Stacy had some pretty strong feelings 
too. She just didn't want to fall into the same trap 
she'd landed in before. This next date would determine 
if she would continue seeing Stacy, or forget all about 
her, regardless of her own emotions.

At precisely 8:00, Betty was in Stacy's car and they 
were heading to the restaurant. The only words spoken 
were by Betty. "We'll have a nice long talk after we 
eat."

Betty had an English trifle along with a cafe Belge, and 
Stacy had key lime pie and the house coffee. They split 
a half-litre of the house dry white wine. Betty made a 
mental note to find out what kind it was. It was good.

After their desserts, they relaxed. It wasn't the same 
booth this time. It had and 'L' shaped seat, but both 
ends were open. Surprising the hell out of Stacy, Betty 
took the initiative, sliding right around the corner, 
putting her now-shoeless feet up on the other side, and 
leaning back into Stacy. In self-defense, the older girl 
put her arm around Betty's waist to keep herself from 
being slowly pushed off the seat.

"Anastasia, do you still have that lover?"

Stacy was again surprised, this time by the forthright 
nature of the question. Her mental image of Betty was 
that of a rather shy, timid girl.

"You mean the one I had last year, when we, uh, parted 
company?"

"That's the one."

"No. We broke up again about a month after that."

"Why?"

"<sigh> That's a difficult question. It was probably 
your fault. I was always very much physically attracted 
to the lady, and she could do things for me that nobody 
else I've met could. The one thing this lady wasn't, 
though, was a friend, or a nice person. I needed more 
than just the physical part of a relationship. It took a 
while after our split for your words to sink in. I was 
cheating myself in this relationship, and in any others 
where I couldn't connect physically, emotionally and 
mentally. It was also cheating on the other person, 
because I'd be looking for what was missing with someone 
else."

"Have you had any lovers since then?"

"None. I have had bedmates, but that's not the same. 
With them, we both knew we were looking for physical 
pleasure, with no commitment."

"I've had a bunch of different bedmates too, since 
then."

<Insert suitable pause for Stacy to get over her shock>

"Elizabeth, what have you been up to?"

"I've been trying to find someone who could give me some 
spark, or some real emotional highs. Sex was supposed to 
be the greatest thing ever, so I tried it. I lost my 
virginity to a half-drunken lout who jerked himself off 
with my vagina. After that, I let a few of my dates go 
all the way. They were all beginners and couldn't even 
satisfy me physically. 

"I finally found a nice guy who could give me pleasure, 
and did every chance he could get, but even with good 
sex I still felt empty and hollow afterwards, not 
satisfied. There was no real feeling, no big release, 
when we had sex. I've decided to drop him because of 
that. He deserves to have someone who'll be really happy 
with him."

"It sounds like you've become very experienced and jaded 
over the last year."

"No, I don't think so. I haven't found anybody who's 
good for me yet, who can teach me what I need to know. 
And I'm not experienced. A half-dozen near-identical 
copies of the same wham-bam-thankyou-ma'am guy isn't my 
idea of enlightening. Now, if only I could find a 
straight version of Robert."

"Is that what you're looking for? A guy that can 
entertain, thrill, and excite you, all at the same time, 
and still be good in bed?"

"I'm looking for... someone... who can do that for me."

Stacy ordered another half-litre of wine and two house 
coffees.

"Elizabeth, you've changed an awful lot since last year. 
That person I taught English to could never sit in a 
restaurant discussing her sex life in public. And she'd 
never be caught dead in public with another girl's arm 
around her."

"Would the old Elizabeth have politely told you to 
shove-off in a restaurant, like I did last year?"

"Touche. I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I 
did. You are more aggressive than you used to be, 
though."

"True. But just remember, we're in a private restaurant, 
in a private booth, and I imagine the staff is very 
discreet. And I'm not discussing myself in public, I'm 
talking with Anastasia."

"I am a little more forthright. I've found that the 
people worth knowing rarely come to you. They have to be 
tracked down and ambushed, just so they take notice. 
There are too many other things in their lives that 
they're involved in so they'd never find sweet, 
innocent, shy you. Like Dave, my soon-to-be-ex-
boyfriend. He's a wonderful person, but until I hunted 
him down and broke through the armor, there's no way I 
could have known that. He'd never dare approach the 
prettiest girl in school and ask her for a date."

"So why haven't you had any other lovers, Anastasia?"

<long pause>

"Come on, 'fess up. I'm trying to learn who you are."

"All right, you asked for it. I've had opportunities, 
and several girls and guys have hinted that they're 
interested, especially some of the juniors and seniors 
in college. These weren't all hitting on be because of 
my looks, either. Some were really interested in me. I 
let the guys down gently, of course, but it was more 
difficult with the girls. It's very hard for a girl to 
approach another girl. It takes a lot of courage, 
because you might be making a mistake. I had to let them 
know that yes, it was okay, yes I was attracted, but no 
I wasn't really interested in any kind of long-term 
commitment."

<another pause>

"Anastasia, come on. You've told me what, but not why."

"Let's leave that for another time, please. I'm not 
ready to talk about it. Not yet."

"<sigh> More secrets. All right, answer me this instead. 
How come you don't go out with guys?"

"That's something I've never shared with anybody, not 
even my father. Maybe someday, but not here, not now. 
I'm still not comfortable being with you, Elizabeth. I 
don't have your, uh, your confidence. It takes me a long 
time before I completely trust someone, even you. Even 
though I want to."

"I guess I'll have to live with that, for now. Just one 
more question, before we get going. When you came here 
to have dinner with me, did you really miss out on a 
party?"

"How did you... What did... All right, yes I did miss 
out on a party. It wasn't a big deal though. How did you 
know about that?"

"It was your birthday party, wasn't it. You gave up a 
lot to be with me, didn't you."

"Yes, I guess I did. I had to choose what was more 
important to me. We moved the party to Friday instead, 
even though some of my friends wouldn't be able to make 
it. It was still a nice party. Who knows, maybe Saturday 
could be one of the best birthday presents I've ever 
had."

"Thank you for being honest."

"Your turn. How did you know about the party?"

"Nope. I said just one more question, and that was it. 
You'll just have to be curious until next time."

"When will next time be?"

"How about Saturday after next. Phone me and invite me 
shopping. It's time we met somewhere other than here. I 
can't afford this place often enough."

"Me neither, though I'd like to. I'll call you next 
week."

Little was said on the drive back to Betty's place.


<<present>>

"Now that that's settled, eat up. The food's getting 
warm and the tea is getting cold."

After Joyce and Betty finished eating, and everyone had 
had their fill of tea, Joyce noticed that Betty was 
thinking about something, and it was bothering her. She 
thought she knew what it was.

"Betty, now that you've decided you're moving away from 
your father, it's time to think about what's next. 
You've got a place to stay, at least for a while. What 
about the long haul. Did you want to finish school, go 
to college, find a job, or what?"

"I wasn't thinking that far ahead. I was trying to 
figure out what to do about simple things, like food and 
clothes and stuff. Almost everything I own is at home, 
and I don't think I could go back there to get it. At 
least, not right away. My father now scares me too much. 
I don't think he realizes yet that I'm moving out 
permanently. He probably thinks I'll be back in a day or 
two, ready to beg for his forgiveness. Fat chance."

"'Atta girl. That's the right attitude. To hell with 
that ignorant Neanderthal. I know you still love him, 
but that doesn't change what he is, an arrogant, hot-
tempered, bull-headed, homophobic misogynist. I'm sorry, 
sweetie, but that's the way I feel about him."

"Now, what are the important things that you need. I 
don't mean like clothes either. I mean personal things 
that you don't want to lose. We can replace the clothes, 
but there's no way to replace the things you love. I 
have a couple of ideas on how I might be able to get 
them for you."

"Well, there's my photo albums, my trophies, Bert (her 
teddy bear), some of my jewelry, the photo of Mum and 
Dad and me, the one of me and Stacy hidden in the 
closet, some of the knick-knacks on top of the dresser, 
and probably a few other things I can't remember. Oh, 
right, my school stuff. I need the textbooks and my 
notebooks and binders. Some of that stuff I've been 
working on for a month. I wouldn't have time to re-do 
it. And my basketball uniform. It would be hard to 
replace in a hurry."

"No problem. Knowing that you need those things for 
school will make it easier to get the rest. I'll pick 
them up Sunday night."

"Joyce, no! I couldn't let you go in there with him. He 
might hurt you!"

"Don't worry about me, sweetie, but thanks for caring. 
I'll have two very large police officers with me. They 
helped me deal with your father after your mother left, 
and don't like him any more than I do. It'll be fun 
seeing him squirm again. The only problem is, he'll 
probably try and take it out on you later, or on Patsy. 
That reminds me, I'd better call her and warn her about 
what's happened so she can lay low too."

"Patsy? You talk with her too? After what she did?"

"Listen sweetie, Patsy was part of the reason your 
parents broke up, but certainly not the only cause. If 
it wasn't her, it would have been someone else. She is a 
conniving bitch, always scheming to get what she wants, 
but she did help out your mother and I several times 
after the breakup. I owe her a few favours. I don't 
think I'd let even her walk in on your Dad right now 
without some warning."

"Joyce," asked Stacy, "you sound like you're really 
enjoying this."

"Stacy, I enjoy the intrigues, the secrets and 
mysteries, the late-night rendezvous, and sometimes even 
the confrontations. I don't enjoy seeing my friends get 
hurt, or battered, or worse. That makes me very mad. 
Those of us involved with the breakup knew that this 
would happen, as soon as Betty started to have an 
independent life. Her father would try to keep control 
of 'his little girl', and a showdown would be 
inevitable. And, using his past actions as a guide, it 
would probably be fairly messy. That's why we prepared 
for this. Stacy, if you weren't here for Betty, we had 
several different backup plans ready to go."

"You mean you had everything planned for me, what I was 
going to do and everything? Isn't that like what my 
father's trying to do?"

"No, not really. We were ready with alternatives, giving 
you some choices as to what you could do. It would 
always be your choice, even if you wanted to move back 
in with your father. I don't think you would, but you 
would be free to do so."

"You're right on that. I don't think I could. What other 
choices do I have?"

"Well, Marion and Mike have set aside some money as a 
just-in-case fund, that I can use as I see fit. There's 
enough cash in it now for you to finish high school. 
There's certainly more than enough to get you set up 
again away from your father, even starting from scratch. 
They've also promised to put you through college, if 
that's what you want."

"The other choice would be to move in with them, before 
or after you finish school. It would probably be harder 
for you, having to move away from all your friends, but 
you would be with your mother, who still loves you very 
much."

"Okay, I get the idea. But - Mike? Who's Mike?"

"Damn my big mouth. Forget I said that. It's something 
you can ask your mother about. So like I said, there are 
some choices for you. My advice is that you move in with 
that delightful lady beside you, and use some of that 
money to get settled in and support yourself. If you two 
split the costs, there should be enough for you to set 
up house and finish school without needing a real job. 
Just remember, though, this is advice only. I'm not 
telling you what to do."

"It sounds like good advice though. I'm going to have to 
think about it."

"Good. In the meantime, I take it you'll be staying with 
Stacy tonight?" Betty nodded her head in assent. "Fine. 
I'll pick you up around eleven tomorrow morning, and 
we'll go shopping for some things. This isn't optional. 
I'm in a good mood and feel like going out and spending 
money, and I can't think of a better way of doing it. 
You too Stacy, if you'd like to come."

"It sounds like fun. I always feel better after a day of 
serious bargain hunting."

"Doesn't everyone?" They all laughed.

Joyce chased them out of the house, telling them to get 
a good night's sleep. They'd need it for tomorrow. After 
they left, the curtains in the next house slid back into 
position. Daddy had been watching.


<<past>>

It took Betty days to figure out how to break up with 
Dave. She didn't want to just dump him because he was 
too nice a guy to do that to. He'd be hurting for too 
long. Then she thought about Rosie, and a plan came to 
mind. She wouldn't dump Dave, she'd give him away. 

Perfect.

Rosie would be a good match for him. She was 
intelligent, witty, and with friends she could be very 
daring. In public, though, she was much too shy. 
Sometimes she wouldn't even have to turn down a date. 
The guy would give up after a minute or two of her 
blushing and stammering. There were a few guys who'd 
taken her out, but the word was she was too shy to be 
any fun. It took her a long time to get used to someone.

Betty had known Rosie for years, and knew how much she 
envied the easy way Betty had with guys, even the jerks. 
She would never go looking for the right man. If managed 
properly, they could end up being very good for each 
other. Now for the rest of the plan.

First she called Dave and invited him out to dinner next 
Friday. He was surprised, but said okay. He was even 
more surprised when she told him to cancel any plans he 
had for the weekend. He'd be busy. Remembering what 
happened the last time she took control, he agreed 
quickly.

Next, Rosie. When she called Rosie up, she invited her 
out for a blind date Friday. It took a while to convince 
her to come, but Betty was insistent, and finally she 
agreed. Betty also learned that Rosie had no other 
concrete plans for the weekend. The stage was set.

Also during the week Stacy called and they agreed to 
meet at a nearby mall Saturday at eleven.

Friday showed up, like it usually does, and Betty got to 
the restaurant early. She wanted to get as private a 
booth as possible, just in case things got difficult. 
Dave was supposed to be there half an hour before Rosie, 
so she'd have some time to talk. There were butterflies 
in her stomach, small knots of fear and excitement at 
what she was going to try.

When Dave showed up and saw her, a big grin came over 
his face. She grinned back. They exchanged greetings. He 
asked what the big deal was for the weekend.

"Dave, you're going to be busy this weekend." His grin 
got bigger. 

"But not with me." His grin froze, then slowly 
disappeared.

"I really don't know how to say this. You are one of the 
sweetest, kindest men I've ever known. You are a 
genuinely nice person. But you are not the man for me. 
If I let this go on much longer, you're going to use 
that 'L' word. Don't say anything, I can see it in your 
eyes when you look at me."

"So you're dumping me, is that it?"

"No."

"Then what? You say I'm not the guy for you, and then 
you say you're not dumping me?"

"What I'm saying is that I won't be going out with you 
anymore. I do care for you, but that's all it is for me. 
I need more. You're simply the wrong person for me."

"I'm not good enough for you, is that it?"

"Wrong again. It's not you, it's me. I can't give you 
what I don't have. You deserve someone who could maybe 
fall in love with you. I just don't have those feelings 
for you."

"Why not? What have I done wrong? I've done everything I 
can think of. Maybe it's just that you haven't given us 
enough time. If you stay with me I'll try harder, you'll 
learn to love me. Please."

"No. You've done everything right. It's just been with 
the wrong person. That's part of the reason I have to 
break off now, before it gets worse. I feel like I've 
been using you, leading you on, tempting you with 
something I don't have to give you. It hurts me."

"Is it... is it another guy?"

"Still wrong. I'm not throwing you over for another guy. 
I don't do things like that. Try to understand, it's not 
your fault that I'll never have those feelings for you."

"Do I have a choice? No, I don't understand. All I know 
is that you're dumping me. Now if you'll excuse me, I 
think I'll go home."

"Shut up and sit down. I told you I'm not dumping you. I 
also said that I had plans for you for this weekend."

"Make up your mind. Please. You're either dumping me or 
you're not. Even if you're not, you've made it plain 
that you're not really interested in me. Why would I 
want to keep going out with you?"

"You wouldn't. I know that. Now listen, and don't 
interrupt. You are far too shy and sensitive a guy. 
Getting dumped is hard on anyone, but for you it's 
worse. You have a really hard time meeting nice people. 
That's why I'm giving you away to a friend of mine. No, 
don't interrupt. She is a very kind and gentle person, 
just like you, and also very shy and sensitive.

"I'm setting you both up for this weekend. Period. No, 
she doesn't know anything about this either. In fact, 
she should be here any minute, thinking she's here for a 
blind date. Just remember, if you reject her tonight, it 
will hurt her deeply. You have no idea how delicate she 
is inside."

"I don't like this. I feel like I'm being used. Why are 
you doing this to me?"

"Dave, I've been using you ever since we started going 
out. I'm trying to make myself feel better by setting 
you up with someone who could fall in love with you. 
Please. Just go through with this weekend. Anything 
after that is purely up to you. Just don't hurt her. 
She's a nice person. Here she comes now."

"Hi Betty. Hi Dave."

"Hi Rosie."

She slid into the bench opposite Dave and Betty.

"So, where's this dreamy guy you're supposed to be 
setting me up with. Do I know him?"

"Only a little. Rosie, meet Dave. Dave, Rosie."

"Betty, is this some kind of joke?"

"No Rosie. No joke. Now sit there and listen for a 
minute. Dave and I just broke up. I knew about it a week 
ago, he just found out. I don't want to just dump him, 
he's too nice a guy for that. I want to give him to 
you."

"What kind of nonsense it this? You just broke up? And 
you don't just give someone away!"

"True. Let's just say I want to give him a chance to get 
to know you. He's going to be hurting real bad for the 
next while, and needs someone who understands that kind 
of pain. You've been through this before, so you know 
what it's like. If you say no right now, you know you'll 
always regret it."

Rosie sat there for a while, thinking. It was difficult 
to tell from her expression what was going on inside. 
"What if I say yes. What happens?"

"You'll spend most of this weekend together. That's it. 
Anything else is up to you. Rosie, Dave is one of the 
sweetest, kindest, most romantic guys I've ever met. 
He's just not the guy for me. If you treat him gently 
but firmly, and don't pull all that shy stuff you 
usually do, you just might end up with the kind of 
boyfriend you've always dreamed of having."

"All right, as a favor to you, I'll do it. But only if 
Dave agrees. Dave?"

He was blushing a nice shade of pink, listening to this 
frank discussion of himself, the two girls going on as 
though he wasn't there. "Yes."

"Good. That's settled. Now here's your itinerary for the 
weekend. And don't either of you skip out on any of it. 
If you do, I'll know and I'll be mad."

"First, dinner here, now. Saturday morning, you two take 
a walk along Beach Drive, the whole thing. Lunch on the 
river front. An afternoon matinee, then dinner at 
Juliette's restaurant."

"Sunday you'll go to the zoo for the whole afternoon. 
Dinner will be at Dominique's. Take your time and enjoy 
the meal. Now I'm outta here. Just remember, you both 
promised me you'd do this."

With that, she just stood up and walked out, leaving 
them alone. She really hoped they'd do as promised, 
because they would be good for each other. There was 
some pain and a feeling of loss because of Dave, but not 
as much as she'd feared. It was manageable. She might 
not even cry.


CHAPTER 6


<<present>> The Manager, Woody, Woody and Joyce

<<past>> Going steady & buying a negligee, the 
seduction, the seduction part two


<<present>>

When they were getting close to Stacy's, she told Betty 
that they would have to stop in and talk to the manager 
of the apartment complex first. It wasn't a problem with 
Betty staying over, but a rule that the manager had 
imposed years ago, and strictly enforced, was that if 
anyone renting or staying in any of the apartments had 
any type of potential family or legal problems, ones 
that might cause difficulties in the buildings, it had 
to be reported immediately. Stacy had heard of several 
evictions because of people not reporting problems, but 
had never heard of anyone being evicted because of 
problems they had reported.

"You'll like her. Don't let her manner fool you, she's a 
nice lady and cares a lot about 'her place', which 
includes everyone living here."

The manager turned out to be a big woman. At 5'10" she 
was almost as tall as Stacy, but the exact opposite in 
build. Stacy was slender, almost skinny, lucky to top 
125 pounds with her clothes on. Mrs. Jacobs (nobody had 
heard anything about a Mr. Jacobs) was stout, heavily 
muscled, and big all over. 

She looked like she could hoist Betty and Stacy over one 
shoulder and hardly notice it, and since she was well 
over 250 pounds and worked out in the weight room a lot, 
she probably could. Her hair was dark, laced with grey, 
pulled back into a severe bun, and her face was heavy 
and thick. She looked like your prototypical Russian 
factory worker.

"So, you're havin' troubles with daddy, eh?" This was 
after Stacy had gone over the situation. They were 
sitting in the office, which was attached to Mrs. 
Jacobs' apartment, sitting uncomfortably in those 
standardized waiting chairs nobody ever likes. Mrs. 
Jacobs was sitting in her plush chair behind the desk, 
of course.

"You movin' in permanent like, or part time?"

"We're not sure yet," explained Stacy. "She's moving in 
for at least a few days, until I can convince her to 
move in full time."

"Har har!" She let loose with a couple of guffaws, 
startling Betty. "Don't look like it'll take much 
convincin'. You two's is the likeliest couple o' roomies 
I ever seen, an' I seen a few. I got no problem with you 
bein' here as long as you want. Problem is, rules is 
rules."

"Number one. Two in the apartment full time, rent goes 
up twenty bucks. No big deal, it covers extra wear'n 
tear. More'n two weeks is full time."

"Number two. Papa. He don't get into that apartment no 
how, no way.

If you lets him in, you're out. Period."

"Number three. Papa again. He wants in, you call here 
first. Immediately. If'n I ain't here, call Woody, the 
fix-up-man. If he ain't here, call security. Here's 
their card. You can see him if you want, but only here 
in my office, with one of us as witness. It's amazin' 
how civil peoples gets when there's witnesses. If'n you 
don't want ta see him, say so. We'll tell 'im to take a 
hike."

"Number four. You tells me if there's changes, like more 
shit, or you make up or sumthin'."

"Now, these rules sounds weird, yeah, but they works. I 
ain't had a single busted room or busted head from 
people what follows 'em. It makes livin' here a helluva 
lot easier 'n safer, not havin' ta worry about Papa or 
whomever showin' up whenever. What you does outside o' 
my place ain't my business. But if'n you thinks he might 
be waitin' outside, call. I'll fix him up good."

"Now, if you kin follow the rules, you're welcome, 
otherwise, you go elsewhere. Any problems?"

Betty tried to summarize. "So, basically, if Dad shows 
up here, I can meet him here, or not. My choice. Either 
way, I call you. Until we've patched things up, he's not 
allowed anywhere in the complex except this office, and 
there has to be a witness at all times. Is that about 
it?"

"You got it. Us witnesses is real discreet too. We don't 
say nuthin' to no-one. You kin say anythin' you want, 
and we only remembers it in court. If we hafta."

"I think I can handle that. If not, I leave, or Stacy 
gets the boot.

Sounds a little harsh, but okay."

"Good. Sounds like you need someplace safe for a bit, 
an' my place is the safest. If you two gonna be roomies, 
remember ta come down and do the paperwork. Makes my 
life easier. Have fun."

Stacy and Betty left the office, heading for Stacy's. 
Before they got to the elevator, they were interrupted.


<<past>>

Stacy and Betty dated frequently over the next several 
months, usually in public, but never overtly showing the 
attraction they were developing for each other. They had 
one dessert at Annabella's, and Betty talked Robert and 
Jordan into treating the two of them to a fancy dinner 
at Dominique's. She introduced Stacy to Joyce, and they 
had a few lunches and dinners as a threesome. During all 
that time, they never had another serious talk like 
they'd had a month after Christmas. Betty wouldn't let 
it happen.

To keep up appearances, Betty also stayed active in the 
dating circles at school. She didn't let any of the guys 
get past second base though. It didn't feel right, as 
though she would be cheating on Stacy. Strange.

It was early April when Betty decided to push their 
relationship a lot farther. She was happy with the way 
it was developing, and was having a lot of fun, but, 
with the lack of intimacy for the last few months, she 
was feeling very needy. Time to test the waters, as it 
were.

She took her chance when the two of them were out 
shopping on a Saturday. Going into the lingerie section 
of a department store, she found what she wanted - an 
unwitting target (a salesman). She dragged the poor guy 
over to the negligees and started going through every 
item in stock, working her way from the 'granny-gowns' 
to the most revealing, most diaphanous, come-get-me 
wisps of fabric. 

She flirted and teased, showing no mercy, asking his 
opinion on each one as she held it up in front of her 
and struck suggestive poses. Some of the better ones she 
even offered to try on, if he really wanted her too. The 
poor sap was married and tried really hard to keep his 
composure and his job.

Finally relenting, she bought one of the sexier outfits. 
On their way out she called him a sweetie and gave him a 
peck on the cheek. Stacy was standing on the sidelines 
through all this, alternately blushing and trying to 
keep from laughing out loud. She couldn't believe Betty.

"What were you doing in there? That poor guy's gonna 
have a hard-on for a week!"

"It was fun! Serves him right, working in the lingerie 
department. Besides, his wife might appreciate getting 
some extra attention tonight. He's sure not gonna forget 
me in a hurry."

"No he isn't. I've never been so embarrassed in my life, 
and I was only a spectator! You're shameless!"

"You're learnin'. I can't wait to try this on! Let's 
go."

"Back to your place?"

"No, your place. I couldn't wear this at home! Dad would 
have a heart attack! Maybe even for real, if it looks as 
good on me as it does on the hanger."

"My place?" Stacy gave Betty a strange look. "Are you 
sure?"

"Yep. Let's do it right, though. You go get us some 
wine, and I'll pick up something for lunch. We'll have a 
picnic in your front room."

Stacy was learning, slowly, that when Betty was in a 
mood like this, she was after something. God only knows 
what, because she never gave any clues, but something. 
Stacy never could read Betty. It would be Betty's first 
time in Stacy's apartment. This made the older girl 
nervous and, though she'd never admit it, excited. She 
certainly would never let Betty know that the show she 
just saw made her hornier than she'd been in months. It 
was almost painful, especially with Betty and her 
delicious body standing so close, yet being so 
untouchable.

Suspecting that Betty wanted this to be a 'special' day, 
Stacy picked up a better wine than she normally would, 
wincing at the cost. Betty picked up some fresh kaisers, 
cheeses, crackers, sliced meats, and pickles. They met 
back at the car and headed for Stacy's.

The trip there was a bit subdued. Betty tried to keep 
the conversation going, and on a light tone, but Stacy 
was nervous. There was some obvious tension in the car.

When the two girls finally arrived, they set out the 
food and wine on the coffee table, adding in the 
condiments they liked. After the obligatory tour of the 
place, with the usual 'excuse the mess' nonsense, it was 
time for lunch. Sitting on the floor on opposite sides 
of the table, enjoying the food and wine, they did 
little talking.

After the food was done, Stacy poured them each another 
glass of wine.

"It's time to see what this thing looks like." Betty 
picked up her package and headed for the bedroom. On the 
way, she bent over and gave Stacy a nice, soft, warm 
kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?"

Betty replied as she was closing the door to the 
bedroom. "Revenge. I've been haunted by that smooch 
Anastasia gave me for a year now." Stacy could feel the 
imprint of those lips burning into her cheek.


<<present>>

"Stacy, baby, how ya doin'?" This guy, this gorgeous 
hunk, came walking up behind them. Before Betty realized 
what was happening, he'd wrapped one arm around her and 
one arm around Stacy, and proceeded to give Stacy a nice 
warm smooch on the lips. It looked like she didn't mind 
a bit. In fact, it looked like she was enjoying it. A 
lot. Then the guy turned and kissed Betty, lightly, on 
the forehead.

"Hi Woody. Not bad."

Woody was the kind of guy wet dreams are made of. 
(Remember him? from several chapters ago?) Around 6'4", 
muscular and well-built without being heavy, dark curly 
hair, big brown eyes, and soft lips curled up into a 
permanent smile. He looked Mediterranean, possibly 
Greek, but with a finely chiseled profile. His age was 
hard to guess, but he looked like he'd be in his late 
twenties.

"So who's this gorgeous lady you're sneaking in here? 
Not trying to pull a fast one on me, are you?" This was 
only the second time Betty and Woody had seen each 
other, the last time being in Betty's place close to two 
years ago.

"Woody, nobody has ever managed to sneak anything past 
you. This is Elizabeth, Betty to her friends. She's 
going to be staying with me for a while. She may have 
some trouble with her father though. We've spoken with 
Mrs. Jacobs already, so she can fill you in on the 
details. How come you're still out and about this time 
of night?"

"Oh, just shutting down a party in the west block. They 
were a bit rowdy. The usual. So, Betty, if you're going 
to be here a while, you'll have to come over to my place 
to get better acquainted. Right, Stacy?"

"Oh, of course. Maybe next week some time."

"It's a date. Anyway, I've got to run. See you later."

He gave Betty a peck on the cheek, and Stacy another 
real kiss, then sauntered off down the hall, towards the 
office.

Betty finally found her voice again. "What just 
happened?"

"That's Woody. He's just about the dreamiest hunk on the 
planet."

"But he was kissing you. I mean really kissing you. I 
remember him kissing you just like that at my place, 
when we first met. Is there something going on I should 
know about?"

"Nah. Once he's seen you three or four times, you'll get 
the same treatment. He kisses almost every girl in the 
complex, just to say hi. And he kisses wonderfully. 
There are a few ladies, like me, that he pays special 
attention to, but it doesn't seem to be looks or age 
that attracts him. Hell, when I first got here, I made 
it perfectly clear that I wasn't interested in him. He 
knows that. I think he just likes flirting, especially 
when he feels safe doing it. It's kind of complicated to 
explain, but he's perfectly safe to be around."

"All right, explain away. I'm jealous and I want to know 
what's going on."

"You sure you want to hear all this right now?" Betty 
nodded.

"All right, you asked for it. Like I said, Woody is one 
of the dreamiest hunks on the planet. You can see that 
for yourself. Not only is he gorgeous, but he's a great 
kisser and a really nice guy. He flirts and kisses with 
every woman in the complex, except for a couple of real 
man-haters. He's not picky either. He gives the same 
treatment to everyone, regardless of age or looks. One 
of the older ladies upstairs almost faints anytime Woody 
shows up."

"Now, you've received a standing invitation to go to his 
place, so you two can get 'better acquainted'. As far as 
I can tell, that's all that ever happens in his place. 
He's never done anything other than talk to or kiss any 
woman who's gone there. A few have claimed more, but 
they were famous liars. He's not married, or at least he 
acts like he's not. He's never accepted any offers from 
any woman in the place. And before you ask, he's never 
accepted any offers from any of the guys in the place 
either."

"This is the strange part. He has his own apartment 
here, and he keeps it up. He does his own cooking and 
cleaning and all that stuff, but he never sleeps there. 
He always sleeps with Mrs. Jacobs. In the morning he 
goes back to his place for breakfast. It's weird. He's 
not Mr. Jacobs, we know that. Neither one of them have 
ever admitted to sleeping together either, but they've 
never hidden it from anyone. She's never said anything 
about what he does in public, even when he does it right 
in front of her. Hell, he gives her the same treatment! 
You've met Mrs. Jacobs. Can you picture the two of them 
as a couple?"

Betty had to laugh at the picture. She could see Woody 
gracing the pages of Playgirl or Cosmo. See them as a 
couple? It seemed ludicrous.

"Stacy, Woody looks like he could probably pick any 
woman he wanted. Christ, he could probably pick three or 
four and they'd all go for it. What's he doing with Mrs. 
Jacobs?"

"Well, Betty, there's at least a dozen different ladies 
here, all chasing after Woody, wanting to know the 
answer to that question. If you find out, you could 
probably make a bundle."

By this time, they were at Stacy's door. Unlocking it 
and ushering Betty inside, she locked it again behind 
her. Turning around, she was hit with a big kiss.


<<past>>

Betty spent a long time in the bedroom, looking things 
over, changing slowly. She was trying to absorb the 
feeling of this room, Stacy's most private sanctuary. It 
was quite feminine, as expected, but also a little 
messy. Not dirty, but with things left lying around. 
There were two pictures on the wall, one of an older 
man, one of an older woman. She assumed they were 
Stacy's parents. The centerpiece of the room, what gave 
it character, were the crossed ostrich feathers on the 
wall over the queen-sized bed.

Stacy probably expected her to model this risqué and 
revealing negligee while wearing her bra and panties. 
She was in for a real surprise. This situation was what 
Betty had been hoping for, a way to get Stacy cornered, 
relaxed, and horny. That act in the store had been very 
embarrassing, but it had also been exciting and quite a 
turn-on. It would have been worth it if it got Stacy as 
worked up as she was.

This was it. She could chicken out or go through with 
her plan. The scared part of her said she was making a 
big mistake, forget it. The other part was more 
insistent - 'If you don't go through with this now, you 
may never have the courage to do it again. It's a 
question of what you want. Do you want Stacy as a 
friend, or as a lover. Are you having second thoughts on 
that choice you made a year ago?'

Finally she was ready. Opening the door, she stood back 
out of sight for a few seconds, just to build a little 
suspense. Stepping into view, she leaned against the 
doorway, one hand stretched up over her head, looking 
very seductive and sultry. She was feeling nervous, 
excited, and sexy. She couldn't help it, knowing she 
looked real hot. Knowing Stacy would think she was hot.

Stacy, sitting on the couch, looked over her shoulder 
when the door opened. She watched Betty step out into 
the doorway and stared. Her mouth went dry, her nipples 
got tight, and her pussy tingled. It had been a long 
time since her last bedmate, and the sight before her 
was like an oasis after a month lost in the desert.

Betty looked warm, tender, and juicy. Now standing 5'6", 
she'd grown a little since last year. Her breasts were 
now a large B or small C. Her hips had widened a little, 
giving her a more pronounced figure. The little bit of 
baby fat she once had was now gone. She was still 
slender, but had more of a model's figure than a girl's. 
Her face, framed by her long, chestnut brown hair, was 
beautiful. An elfin face, delicate, fine-boned, with 
large, expressive, light-brown eyes, skin lightly 
tanned, mouth small, with pouting red lips slightly 
parted, now soft and moist.

All she wore was her slight smile, a touch of makeup, 
and the nightgown. And barely that. It was a soft, 
powder-blue colour, mostly transparent, with two 
shoulder straps to hold it up. The straps widened out 
into enough fabric to cover her breasts, but was so 
sheer you could not only see her nipples, you could just 
make out the lighter patches of her bikini tan. The 
neckline was modest, but the back was not. It left a 
bare expanse of flesh ending in a point just at the 
small of her back. 

It was cut to accentuate the length of her arms, legs, 
and neck, making her appear taller and even more willowy 
than she already was. The hemline, if you could call it 
that, was set three or four inches below the bottom of 
her crotch, and was flared, giving it a distinct ripple 
and bounce when she walked. Any skin touching the fabric 
showed through clearly, and that was a lot of skin. You 
could even see a shadowy patch at the V of her legs.

Betty sashayed into the room, swinging her hips a 
little, showing glimpses of thigh and ass with each 
movement. Walking to the center of the room, the 
brunette turned to present front, back, and both 
profiles, to Stacy.

Raising her arms above her head, and giving a final 
pirouette to complete her display, pulled up the 
nightgown, with the twirl causing the hem to flair and 
rise. Stacy gasped at this display of flesh. She could 
see the bottom of Betty's ass, her thighs, and her 
complete pussy, shaved bare except for a small triangle 
of hair at the top of her mound. She almost whined. This 
beautiful temptation in front of her was just about too 
much to bear. It had been soooo long.

Betty watched and saw the effect she was having on the 
older girl. There was no denying the desire and the 
arousal. There was a flush on her chest, rising to her 
neck, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. One hand 
was unconsciously moving towards her crotch, and the 
other was hugging her breasts. That was an erotic sight.

She herself was getting more excited, especially with 
the illicit thrill of displaying herself wantonly to 
another woman. Her nipples were like small stones, and 
she could feel the heat and damp radiating from her 
pussy. God, she was horny.

"Well, what do you think? Will it drive 'em wild?"

Stacy took a deep breath, then tightened and loosened 
her entire body.

"Looking like that, you'll drive all of 'em wild, 
whomever those lucky folks are. You are guaranteed to 
turn on anyone you show that to."

"Thank you. I thought it looked pretty good."

"I think what's in it makes it look good."

Betty took a gulp of her wine.


<<present>>

"Mmmmm. Nice. I've missed you a lot."

Betty had to ask. "How much did you miss me?"

"Let's just say bath time wasn't the same, and it was 
very hard to get to sleep. I know it wasn't much 
different than before, but not knowing if I'd see you 
again made me really miss those times we did have. God, 
this sounds like a dime store novel, but it's true. I 
love you, Little Blossom, and don't ever want to lose 
you."

"Well, Stacy, now that you've admitted it, you're stuck 
with me. They'd hafta chain me up and drag me away. I 
love you, and I'm not going to leave you. Period."

"Mmmm" They shared another kiss. "Let's go have a shower 
and make up for lost time. Then let's go to bed and show 
each other how happy we are to be together."

"Now I know you've been reading too many of those cheesy 
novels, but it sounds like fun. I'm really tired, but a 
shower and cuddling would be wonderful."

"We'd better see to your face, too. It doesn't look 
nearly as bad as it did, but some ointment for the sting 
and the swelling couldn't hurt. C'mon, let's go get 
wet."


<<past>>

"Do you really think it makes me look sexy?"

"Betty, it makes you look irresistible."

"Thank you."

She struck a few more seductive poses for Stacy while 
moving around the room. Topping up Stacy's wineglass, 
she handed it to her. Taking her own glass, she drained 
it and put it back on the table.

Sitting on the couch beside the older girl, Betty turned 
and lay down, putting her head in Stacy's lap. Sighing, 
she shut her eyes and stretched her arms out over her 
head.

Lying like that, her eyes closed, just resting for a 
while, she was very much aware of the feel of Stacy's 
body, her thighs and belly touching her through their 
clothes, the warmth feeling good. There was also a lot 
of tension in them both, something she was hoping the 
extra wine would help with. She was sure Stacy could 
feel the hammering of her heart.

"Betty, what are you doing?"

She ignored that question and just lay there, doing and 
saying nothing. Even without looking, she knew Stacy was 
devouring her with her eyes. She could feel it, from her 
toes to her scalp, but especially on her breasts and 
bared pussy. Finally Stacy's arm, the one not holding 
the wine glass, touched, and then rested on, her middle. 

It was carefully placed, arm running up and across, and 
hand curling around to hold the other side, seemingly by 
accident, not touching anything that could be considered 
private. It was an electric touch, the first one Betty 
considered truly sexual from the older girl. She could 
now smell the arousal emanating from Stacy's pussy, 
right through her jeans.

That arm and hand, at first tentative, finally relaxed 
when there was no sign of resistance or refusal. 
Eventually the hand even started very light, slow, 
almost unnoticeable caresses of her skin.

Betty was trying to figure out why Stacy, being the 
experienced older woman, was being so slow and shy 
touching this body being thrust so shamelessly at her. 
Was she afraid? Was she hiding something? Time to find 
out what she wanted to know.

"Anastasia, why haven't you taken another lover? You've 
had lots of opportunities, and lots of offers."

She heard Stacy sigh, and felt her take a gulp of her 
wine.

"Elizabeth, you are a most difficult person to deal 
with. I thought I knew what you were planning, what you 
were after, and then you come out with something like 
today and a question like that."

Neither spoke for a minute, Stacy lost in thought, Betty 
waiting for an answer.

"Anastasia, I asked you before, months ago, and you 
wouldn't tell me. 

Now I'm asking again. Why haven't you taken another 
lover?"

Another sigh, and another gulp of wine.

"It's a very difficult, very personal question. I don't 
know if I should answer it or not. Especially to you. 
But, I think you deserve an explanation."

"When you and I split, oh-so-long-ago, you shook up my 
nice little self. I'd had no idea what I was doing to 
myself and my lovers. It was rare for me to stick with 
one for more than a few months, because none of them 
could satisfy me completely, either physically or as an 
intimate friend. After your speech, I knew there was an 
explanation. 

"It was the fact that I picked lovers for one reason or 
another, never getting one that was just right. Either I 
was impatient or was looking for the wrong thing at the 
wrong time. Ever since, I've been looking very carefully 
at anyone making an approach, feeling how both my body 
and my heart responded, and checking to see if they had 
any real feelings for me. None met those standards."

"Did you really give any of them a chance?"

"Two, for a time. I dated each of them for a month 
before deciding they just weren't right for me. It has 
been difficult."

Betty knew that Stacy was still being evasive, hiding 
something. The answer she gave didn't match the 
nervousness of her voice, or the quivering in her 
stomach.

"I'm sure some of them were really nice. Why weren't 
they good enough for you?"

Stacy squirmed a bit, seemingly uncomfortable.

"That's not it at all. Some were genuinely good people. 
It just didn't seem right with any of them. The feelings 
I got weren't the ones I was looking for. All right?"

Betty let that hang in the air for a couple of minutes.

"Now what's the real reason?"

"Dammit Betty! I didn't want any of them because they 
weren't you!

There! Are you satisfied? Have I humiliated myself 
enough yet?"

They sat there for a couple of minutes, Betty relaxing, 
Stacy visibly upset and embarrassed. Her tension was 
apparent in the taught muscles of her belly and thighs, 
and the rigid feel of her arm.

"I think I like that answer."

She could feel the tension drain out of Stacy. A few 
seconds later, that hand at her waist started it's slow 
caress again, filling her with a soft, warm glow. 
Smiling inwardly, she decided to ask the other question, 
the one that would determine if they had a future 
together. 

"Anastasia?"

"Yes?"

"If we were lovers, would you ever cheat on me?"

That caressing hand stopped dead. There was a pause as 
Stacy collected her jaw from the floor.

"Am I supposed to answer that truthfully, or should I be 
giving you the standard line about me always being 
faithful and true. Because if you want a real answer, 
you're going to have to tell me what you mean by 
cheating."

"Cheating. It could be a physical relationship with 
another person. It could also be an intense emotional 
relationship with another person. In either case, it's 
usually without the partner's knowledge."

"If that's what you mean by cheating, no I would not 
cheat on you. I am a monogamous person. I was before, 
too, but only in the physical sense. You're pretty hard 
on a simple soul like myself, you know."

Her hand began its massage again, only a little higher. 
Occasionally Betty could feel it brushing the bottom of 
her breast. Her nipples responded to this, tightening 
and lengthening noticeably. Not watching Stacy's eyes 
made it difficult to tell if she'd noticed or not. Betty 
would bet money that Stacy noticed. 

She liked the answers Stacy gave. They had a ring of 
truth about them. Now she could relax and enjoy whatever 
happened. Picking up from the middle of Stacy's last 
sentence, she continued.

"I guess I am hard. And demanding. And inscrutable. And 
pushy. And devious. And pretty. And shameless. And 
sometimes without couth or tact." She took a deep breath 
and sighed. "And monogamous. And without a boyfriend. Or 
lover. Have I missed anything?"

"How about beautiful and sexy?"

"All right, I'll take those. Oh, one more. And horny."

"Shameless is right."

Now Stacy began a wonderful massage of Betty's breasts, 
fondling and stroking each in turn, brushing over the 
nipples, teasing them. At the first feathery touch on 
her nipple, Betty gasped. Delightful little shocks ran 
back and forth between her nipples and her groin.

"Anastasia?"

"Is this another question?"

"Yes."

"I'm beginning to dread these questions of yours, but 
okay, go ahead and ask."

"Weeeellll, I know I'm a beginner at this, but aren't 
you supposed to kiss me right about now?"

"Is this what you really want?"

"I think so. I won't know for sure until afterwards, but 
I need to try."

It took some time, but eventually Betty felt the 
faintest of touches on her lips.


<<present>>

The next morning, around eleven, Joyce buzzed up. Betty 
was still getting ready, so Stacy let her in. After the 
hello's and a few last minute touch-ups, everyone was 
ready to go. When they got off the elevator, Woody found 
them again.

"Stacy, Betty, how'ya doin?" He wrapped an arm around 
each of them, and gave Stacy a nice smooch on the lips. 
He was about to give Betty a peck on her cheek when she 
turned and met him lip to lip. He *was* a very good 
kisser. When he finished, she felt a little light-
headed, and kind of fuzzy all over. Then he spotted 
Joyce.

"Joyce, cupcake, you're back!" He picked her up in a 
warm embrace. They kissed for what seemed like hours, 
with Joyce's arms wrapped around Woody's neck. Betty was 
more than a little shocked at this. Then again, so was 
Stacy.

Finally, pulling back, Joyce spoke. "Woody, you nasty 
tease you. Here you are, getting me all worked up, and 
you're not going to do a damn thing about it, are you. 
You are a horrid bastard." She said the last with a 
smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

"That's me all right." Then, in a loud, conspiratorial 
whisper that everyone could hear, "Next time, make sure 
there aren't any witnesses, and I'll give you a real 
kiss." With that, he gave her a peck on the nose and 
walked off, whistling to himself.

Betty couldn't help herself. "Well Joyce, what gives? 
That certainly didn't seem like the Woody I heard about. 
You apparently know him better than Stacy does!"

"Yeah, Joyce. I've seen him kiss like that a few times, 
but only with long-timers, people he's known for ages. 
He's certainly never kissed me like that, and I've known 
him for over two years! Time to come clean and let us in 
on the dirt. What's the scoop?"

Joyce let out a little "hrmph" as she straightened out 
her clothes and hair. "Can't a girl have any secrets?" 
After receiving two hard stares, she decided to come 
clean. "Actually, this is the second time we've met. The 
first time was earlier in the week when I came up to 
meet you, Stacy. He met me at the front entrance and 
guided me to your door. Then he snuck in a smooch on my 
cheek as he was turning to go."

"I wasn't going to let him get away with that! I grabbed 
his shirt and pulled him back. I know, I know. If he'd 
wanted to get away, he could have just kept walking. He 
turned around with a sheepish grin on his face, looking 
like he was about to apologize. I cut him off."

"'Look mister, I don't know what sort of stunts you're 
used to pulling around here, but I'm not going to let 
you get away with that. No way! You don't just grab a 
little smooch and run off, not with me anyway. If you 
want a kiss, you damn well better do it right, or you're 
in big trouble.' I grabbed him by the hair and pulled 
him down to my level. Oooo, can that man kiss. My toes 
were curling! Hey, don't look at me like that. I don't 
get many of those at my age. I'll take anything I can 
get." With that, she threw her head back a bit, blushed 
(believe it or not), and headed for the door.

Betty and Stacy looked at each other and grinned. Still 
smiling, they followed Joyce out the door.


CHAPTER 7


<<present>> Shopping and finances, modelling clothes

<<past>> Betty's fulfillment, Stacy's turn the next 
morning


<<past>>

After that faintest of feathery touches, Betty could 
feel the other girl's breath, light and warm, on her 
lips and face. She could smell the wine, and a hint of 
sweetness from Stacy herself. Opening her lips slightly, 
she began to breathe deeply and evenly. Once again those 
lips touched hers, slightly firmer, but still oh-so-
soft. A tiny tingle ran from her lips down to the bottom 
of her spine, settling there.

She moved then, causing Stacy to tense up and move her 
head back. Betty moved farther up, lying across Stacy's 
lap, with her head now resting on the cushions heaped at 
the end of the couch. Wanting to reassure her, make her 
know this is what she wanted, she placed her right hand 
over her head and moved her other hand behind Stacy, 
slowly rubbing her back. Wiggling a bit to get more 
comfortable, she put a little more pressure into her 
back rub to encourage Stacy to resume her efforts.

A third time those lips touched hers, but this time they 
stayed, tasting, caressing, and nibbling her lips, first 
one, then the other, not content with sitting still, but 
moving slowly and teasingly around.

Stacy's tongue joined her lips in tasting Betty's mouth. 
She felt like one of Annabella's new desserts, one being 
enjoyed for the first time, something to be savoured 
slowly and fully. 

Those lips began to roam around on her face and neck, 
going slowly, kissing and licking everything - eyes, 
ears, chin, cheek. She opened her eyes a little, wanting 
to watch what was happening, not wanting to miss out any 
of this, her first time. She felt like a virgin again, 
except she was giving it to someone special, and knew it 
would be a wonderful experience. Those lips, that 
tongue, and that hand were all generating their own 
little sensations, tiny tingles that moved through her 
from toes to scalp to fingertip, finally settling in her 
groin. It was the first time Betty thought she might cum 
without anything touching her pussy.

Again those lips returned to hers, teasing, tantalizing, 
not satisfying her growing passion. When her tongue 
moved to join that other, it moved away, allowing only a 
brief contact, but letting her touch and taste those 
other lips.

During this time Stacy's hand was not idle. Gradually 
she had increased the pressure of her fingers, spreading 
them, until her hand and palm were massaging Betty's 
breasts, especially those tight, hard points.

It was delicious how this felt, every touch and movement 
creating little highs, building up steadily in her 
pussy. Her breath was still deep, but faster, more 
insistent. This was broken into a gasp, then short 
panting breaths when Stacy started pinching and pulling 
at her nipples.

"Ohhhh... that feels so... goooood!" 

Betty squeezed her thighs together, feeling her need 
growing inside. She was hot and moist, ready for 
anything, wanting to cum. Stacy wasn't letting her. She 
knew she was close, she was building up, but she needed 
more.

Finally Stacy kissed her, fully, open mouth, tongue 
extended, hard and passionately. Wrapping her arms 
around the blonde, she kissed back just as hard, sucking 
and licking the other tongue like she would a cock. Now 
Stacy moaned.

They kept at it like this for another few minutes, 
feverishly working tongue and lip, expressing their 
desire for each other, building up the tension and 
excitement. Finally Betty pushed Stacy's hand off her 
breasts and down towards her pussy, spreading her legs 
as wide as they would go. Her groin was now almost 
aching with the build up and she couldn't stand waiting 
any longer.

When Stacy's hand finally reached its goal, she still 
teased and tantalized - the blonde was taking her time. 
Placing one finger on each side of her pussy, that hand 
gently traced the outside of her crack from the top of 
her mound down to the bottom of her cheeks, repeating 
this motion several times. Betty finally whimpered with 
frustration, grabbing Stacy's hand and mashing it into 
her own twat. Breaking their kiss for a second, she 
whispered "Come on!"

Quickly the blonde lubricated her fingers in Betty's 
steaming snatch. She was sopping wet inside, so this 
didn't take much time. Sliding one finger inside, then a 
second, she began pumping slowly, grinding the heel of 
her thumb in where she thought the brunette's clit would 
be. Betty repositioned the blonde's hand to hit her 
pleasure spots. 

It felt wonderful, those long fingers pumping into her, 
wiggling inside, her clit massaged through her pussy 
lips, mouth and face being attacked by Stacy's lips and 
tongue. Her heart was now pounding with the excitement 
of finally being with another woman, with Stacy. Hardly 
believing it to be real, she could still feel her orgasm 
building, slowly moving outward from deep within her 
groin. 

Impatiently she waited for it, wanting it, needing it 
desperately. Putting all her desire and lust into her 
kisses of the blonde's mouth, face, neck, and whatever 
else was offered, she began to roll her hips, trying to 
get Stacy to go faster and deeper.

And she did, pumping those fingers deep and hard, 
mashing the brunette's crack and clit on every in-
stroke, driving Betty quickly to the edge and over.

She came hard, with her entire body tensing up for 
several seconds, holding off her big release as long as 
possible before coming down off that plateau of intense 
pleasure. With a rush of air, she released her body into 
the rest of her orgasm, pleasant sensations running all 
over and inside her, centered on her twat. 

Stacy slowed a little with her fingers when she saw 
Betty cum, but didn't quit until Betty reached down and 
stopped her movements, pushing her friend's hand into 
her pussy and closing her thighs to keep it there, with 
two fingers buried deep in her vagina. It felt... nice, 
like Dave's cock, when he stayed inside her, waiting for 
her to recover before starting again. 

Betty lay there for a few minutes, recovering her breath 
and some of her strength, squeezing her thighs whenever 
she felt Stacy's hand shifting, not wanting to let it 
go.

It wasn't over yet. That hand in her pussy started 
moving again, a slow rocking rhythm, sliding just a tiny 
ways up and down her crack, rubbing between her lips, 
massaging her clit very softly. Both fingers in her hole 
were moving, a slow dance up and down, bending at the 
knuckles and twirling around in a circular motion. Betty 
whimpered a bit and clamped her thighs together tight, 
not really ready to go again this soon. She felt that 
knot inside of her still, but it was distant, pushed 
back by her recent physical release.

Stacy's mouth, which had been idly nibbling on the 
brunette's lips, traced a path down her neck to her 
breast, licking and nibbling a circle around it, through 
the fabric. Betty whined a bit more, unsure if she 
wanted to stop things or not. She hadn't yet recovered 
from her last orgasm, but it was starting to feel good 
again. Her body decided - she was too relaxed to fight. 
Letting her thighs fall open again, she went limp, 
giving Stacy tacit approval to do whatever she wanted.

Spiraling inwards, those lips finally reached her 
nipple, lightly teasing it through the fabric, lips and 
tongue just brushing it, moving away and circling around 
to tickle it again. Those little flickers were 
generating tiny jolts in her nipple, jolts being echoed 
deep in her groin.

Suddenly Betty gasped, her body arching and straining. 
Stacy had sucked almost half her tit into her mouth and 
was sucking and licking her nipple like a demon. She'd 
also resumed pounding that hand into Betty's twat, 
adding a third finger, driving them in deep and fast. 

She gasped again, and again, as that feeling in her 
groin returned full force. Almost without warning, she 
was in the middle of another full-blown orgasm, much 
stronger than the last one, head thrown back, thighs 
clenching, hips thrusting, pulling Stacy hard into her 
breast, pushing back, trying to force more of herself 
into Stacy's mouth. She hung there, hardly breathing, 
right at the peak, seemingly forever. 

There was no letup in the powerful waves of pleasure 
being created in her breast and her crotch, the blonde 
seemingly unwilling to allow her to slide down the other 
side of this peak, holding her there until she was 
almost ready to pass out.

When Stacy finally let up, it was over quickly. All her 
tension and need had been completely burned away, 
leaving nothing but a warm, very tired, all-over glow, 
and leaving Betty a limp and exhausted mass of flesh. 
When Stacy pulled her fingers out, Betty whimpered a 
bit, not liking that suddenly empty feeling. She did 
open her mouth to lick and suck those fingers clean, 
once she realized what was being offered. The flavor 
wasn't new to her, she'd tasted it before on her own 
fingers and on Dave's cock, but for some reason her 
juices seemed much sweeter while being sucked and licked 
off Stacy's hand.

She was tired, sweaty, and satiated, feeling properly 
fucked for the first time. The only thing she could 
compare this with was her best sessions with Dave. Even 
that match-up was a little lame, because he had never 
managed to push her into such an intense orgasm.

Stacy made her get up and move into the bedroom, where 
she stripped them both nude, put Betty under the covers 
and climbed in after her. Cuddling the brunette to her, 
holding her close, she let her friend fall asleep in 
that warm, soft, afterglow. In a while, Stacy also fell 
asleep.


<<present>>

They spent the rest of the day shopping, picking up 
several outfits, undergarments, toiletries, some makeup, 
and a few other essential items. Betty was upset at the 
amount of money being spent, and protested several 
times. It was worse when Joyce picked out a few things 
for Stacy. She finally put her foot down when Joyce went 
to transfer money into her bank account.

"Joyce, this is too much. I won't let you do it. I can 
make do without. I've got some of my own money, enough 
to last a while anyway." 

"Betty, weren't you listening last night? This isn't my 
money we're spending, it's yours. Your mother put the 
money aside just in case something like this happened. 
And before you protest any more, she can afford it. 
Besides, most of it came from your father as part of the 
divorce settlement. Think of the look on his face if he 
knew you were spending his money like this, and don't 
feel so guilty."

"You will need the cash, too. I expect you'll start 
splitting the rent with Stacy, easing some of the 
pressure on her checkbook, as well as sharing costs for 
utilities and food, and maybe even gas. Who knows, you 
might even get your license and want to drive somewhere. 
Trust me, a grand a month sounds like a lot, but it 
disappears fast. You're going to have to be very careful 
how you spend it, if you want it to last from month to 
month."

"But it still seems like a lot of money."

"Betty," Stacy interrupted, "trust me. You'll be glad of 
every penny. I'm getting by on twelve hundred a month 
right now from Dad, but with having to pay all my own 
bills, and pay for gas, I'm falling behind a little bit 
every month. Without the savings I have, I'd have had to 
move home or find another part-time job. With Dad paying 
for tuition, books, and the car and insurance, I 
couldn't ask for more from him."

"I guess, when you put it like that, it doesn't seem 
like all that much anymore."

"So, Joyce, you said Betty would be getting a grand per 
month?" Getting a nod, she carried on. "We'll work out a 
budget next week, and you can see how much it really 
costs to survive. Especially for food and rent."

"Good. I'm glad to see you've got some financial sense 
Stacy. Betty needs to learn from scratch apparently. 
Anyway, this will be your first installment, sort of a 
bonus. The next one will be on the twenty-fifth, and on 
that same date for some time to come. By the way, we're 
going shopping again next weekend. You'll have figured 
out what you need by then, and I know a girl can never 
have too many clothes. Now, now. Don't make faces! We're 
going, and that's final."

"All right, all right, I give up. When you're both 
ganging up on me I don't have a hope, do I. Besides, I'm 
getting tired and hungry. When's dinner? In fact, when 
was lunch?"

"Oops, I think we missed it somehow. Too busy shopping I 
guess. Lets pick up something on the way to your place, 
Stacy, my treat. Yes, with my own money this time. 
Chicken 'n fixin's okay? Whaddaya mean, watch your 
figures. Neither one of you has enough figure to worry 
about! You can afford one greasy meal. Now let's go."

That settled, they packed up and headed back, picking up 
some chicken. To Joyce's great disappointment, they 
never saw Woody on the way in. 


<<past>>

Betty woke up slowly, enjoying that warm and fuzzy half-
asleep state, tired, yet, on the whole, feeling very 
good. It took a minute to realize she wasn't alone in 
bed, and a little longer to notice it wasn't her bed and 
that she was with Stacy. When the memories of what had 
happened started coming back, she closed her eyes and 
enjoyed the replays in her mind, especially that second 
explosive climax.

Opening her eyes again, she saw she was lying up against 
Stacy's side and that the blonde was sound asleep. 
Grinning to herself, she decided a nice slow wakeup call 
would be in order.

Moving very slowly and cautiously, she slid down under 
the covers, continuing until she could get Stacy's 
nipple in her mouth. Moistening her lips and forming an 
'O', she surrounded the nipple without touching it, and 
began a slow gentle suck, taking it in, then releasing, 
pausing for a second between each cycle.

Checking first to see if Stacy showed any signs of 
waking up, she moved one hand down to her friend's 
pussy. There was very little hair there, only a Mohawk 
left in the middle of her mound. Using the ends of her 
fingers, she began a slow circular rub on top of the 
other's crack, as far between those thighs as could be 
reached with the legs closed. She matched her hand's 
rhythm to that of her mouth.

After several minutes of this, Stacy was beginning to 
breathe a little more deeply, and her thighs opened a 
bit, reacting automatically to the stimulation. Betty 
took advantage of this by ever-so-slowly moving her hand 
farther in with each rotation. She could feel the 
softness under her fingers where Stacy's vaginal opening 
was. Now she was massaging with the full length of her 
fingers and palm, covering almost all of the girl's 
pussy. Her rhythm hadn't changed.

Betty was warm, relaxed, and comfortable. She decided 
she liked the feel of Stacy's near-naked pussy. It 
wasn't the same as a cock, but it was just as warm and 
silky, and much softer underneath.

Stacy took a deep breath, moved around a bit, then 
settled down again. Her breathing was a little faster 
now, not as deep as before. It was hard to tell if she 
was really asleep, or in that half-way stage, where 
everything was still rather dreamlike. Her body knew 
what was happening, though, and was reacting regardless. 

There was moisture under Betty's hand, she could feel it 
working its way up through the folds of skin, which were 
now warm and puffy. Extending her middle finger, she 
began to work it down into the blonde's crack, slowly of 
course, still circling in sync with the suction on 
Stacy's nipple.

When her finger was fully engulfed in those warm wet 
lips, she began to move her hand farther down again, 
this time working her finger into Stacy's hole. At the 
first, slight penetration, Stacy let out a small gasp, 
then continued with shorter, faster, breaths. Every few 
exhales she let out a tiny whimper. When Betty's finger 
was all the way in, she settled into her rhythm again, 
massaging that pussy with her hand, rolling her finger 
around in that wonderfully warm, soft, wet, clinging 
tunnel, waiting to see if Stacy would wake up before she 
climaxed.

It was close. "Uh? Whaa? Ooooooo. Whadyadoin... oh, 
don't stop, that's nice, yes, oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhh!"

As Stacy woke up, Betty began working her in earnest, 
sucking hard on her breast and nipple, licking it, 
gently nipping at it with her lips and teeth. At the 
same time, she began to pump her finger in and out of 
Stacy's tunnel, rocking her hand up and down the length 
of her crack, rubbing hard and fast.

Another minute or two of this and Stacy let out a series 
of mewling cries, then gasped and went rigid for a 
second as her orgasm hit. Panting heavily, she grabbed 
onto the sheets for support, her body now writhing 
around out of her control, still being driven on by 
Betty's mouth and fingers.

One final "Ahhhhhhhhhhh" signalled the end, and Betty 
stopped, letting the nipple pop out of her mouth, but 
leaving her hand and finger in place. Both lay there for 
several minutes, Stacy recovering, Betty relaxing, 
listening to and feeling Stacy's return. She could feel 
her finger being grabbed and released each time her 
friend gave a slight shiver. It felt... different. 

"You rotter you!"

"Whaaaat? Me?"

"Yes you! I was kinda hoping to be awake for my first 
time with you!"

"Well, you were, sorta."

"Yeah, just sorta long enough to enjoy the aftermath."

After a few more deep breaths, she continued.

"Thank you. It was nice. I needed it, especially after 
you paraded around in that near-nothing outfit, and then 
fell asleep on me! I mean really, is that the polite 
thing to do? Oooooooh."

Betty had started her slow massage of Stacy's twat 
again.

"Hmmm. Let's see. Near-nothing outfit. I distinctly 
remember your eyes popping out of their sockets, drool 
coming out of your mouth, and your tongue hitting the 
floor when you saw me in that thing. I thought you liked 
it. Maybe I was wrong. And then falling asleep on you? 
As if I had a choice in the matter with what you did to 
me. Besides, I'm a guest here. And it's not very polite 
for a hostess to fall asleep on a guest. As for what I'm 
doing, since I'm a beginner at this, I thought I'd sneak 
in a little practice while you weren't looking, as it 
were. If that's not okay, should I stop? Or is it okay?"

"Nnnnnnng, no! I mean yes! Oh, just don't stop, please, 
it feels so gooood."

"You mean, it's okay if I keep practicing?"

"Uuhhh, yes. Yes... please."

"Okay, you asked for it. I know you've done this lots, 
and I'm a real amateur, so don't mind me if I make lots 
of mistakes. I'll get better with practice. And I'm 
planning on getting a lot of practice."

With that, she wriggled her way down to Stacy's snatch, 
pushing the covers ahead of her, keeping her finger 
rotating in that warm, soft hole.

This was Betty's first look as Stacy's pussy. In fact, 
it was her first good look at anybody's adult pussy. It 
looked neat and tidy, carefully shaved, with only a 
vertical stripe of hair just above the top of her slit. 
Right now, it was wet and glistening, with her juices 
coating her from her mound right 'round to her cheeks 
and from thigh to thigh. 

Her lips were red and engorged, spread wide, showing 
everything. That little nubbin down there hiding under a 
flap of skin must be her clit, and Betty could actually 
see her finger disappearing into and coming out of 
Stacy's hole. Leaning over a little, she could see the 
small, puckered anal sphincter, and wet spots on the bed 
where some juices had dribbled.

Now for the hard part. Despite her bravado and casual 
words, she'd never licked another pussy before, and 
wasn't sure she could do it. The fingering was easy - it 
was just like jacking off, except she couldn't feel what 
was happening. But getting in there to kiss and suck and 
taste, that was a big step. She'd seen it on video and 
in pictures, and read about it in stories, but this was 
different. 

Could she? 

Well, if Dave could learn to do it with her (and he had, 
and practiced lots too) she could learn to do it with 
Stacy. At least it didn't smell bad like she'd been 
afraid of, like some of the stories had described. It 
was a light, musty sort of smell, not unpleasant, 
overlaid with the stronger smell of sex.

"It's all right, don't rush things. If you're not ready 
for this, don't force yourself. It's not something you 
have to do for me, and you certainly don't need to prove 
anything to me either. Just put your head down on my 
stomach, that's right, now relax and enjoy what you're 
doing. I know I'm enjoying it."

Stacy was now caressing Betty's bottom, thighs, and 
calves, gently and tenderly, with one hand. It felt 
nice.

"Now pull your finger out of my hole, and I'll tell you 
what I like. First I want you to lube me up good, 
spreading my juices all over my pussy and ass. Yes my 
ass, even my rectum. It's very sensitive and can feel 
good if treated gently. That's right, with slow, light 
caresses, yes, that feels good. Be careful with my clit, 
it's small, but it's very sensitive too, and you can 
hurt me easily. Usually you don't touch it directly 
unless I'm really excited, and then some light stroking 
or licking or sucking will send me through the roof. 

"If you want to play with it, do it through one of my 
lips, or through the skin cover... ooooh, nnnnnngyea, 
you've got the idea, really light and tender. As you 
know, everything around there is sensitive to some 
degree, but for me, it's the skin around my clit and the 
patch of skin between my vagina and rectum. Yesss, oh! 
Right there and there, you've got it, oh, yes you've got 
it you got it you got it... oooohh yes, keep doing it, 
please."

Betty got it, and decided it would be okay to use two 
hands instead of her tongue, at least until she got more 
used to this. Moving a little, she slid her right arm 
under Stacy's right leg, lifting it a bit for better 
access, brought her left arm in over Stacy's middle, and 
put her head down on Stacy's thigh for a good, close, 
front-row view of the action. From there, she could 
actually see into Betty's hole, and watched the pinkish 
muscles relax and contract in time to Stacy's "oh's". 

It was a fascinating sight. She could also smell 
everything. It was different from anything else she 
knew, coming closest to the smell of her own panties 
after they'd been worn for a while. She could get used 
to it easily.

After licking and sucking the thumb and first two 
fingers of her right hand for lubrication, she slowly 
and carefully slid two fingers into her friend's wet 
hole. Once in, she began a slow pumping action, moving 
in and out. She used her thumb to gently massage the 
skin between the two holes, getting some delighted 
whimpers from Stacy. 

Next to be licked and sucked were the first two fingers 
of her other hand. These she used to touch and massage 
the upper parts of that wonderful pussy in front of her, 
lightly feeling and caressing both inside and outside 
those puffy lips.

When she heard Stacy's breath become fast and panting, 
she increased the speed of her pumping, and began to 
tease Stacy's clit, touching the skin over top of it, 
circling around the edge, moving away up or down then 
coming back, and finally, when she heard the blonde 
gasping, she started a very gentle fingertip massage of 
the top of it.

"Oh god, yes, oh yes, don't stop, don't st... oh, I'm 
cumming! I'm cum... I'm cum.... cumiiiiiiinnnnnngggg!" 
Caught up in her orgasm, she almost managed to shake the 
brunette loose with her hips thrusting and gyrating all 
over. Betty moved her finger off Stacy's clit when the 
orgasm started to subside, knowing how sensitive her own 
got after cumming, instead rubbing the skin around it. 
Stacy obviously liked it, she kept cumming and cumming 
and cumming...

It seemed like hours before Stacy came back down from 
her high, but was in fact about a minute.

"Stop, please, no more for now. I'm drained."

Betty stopped, but left her fingers where they were 
sitting, in Stacy's hole and in her slot. She liked it 
when Dave left her full for a while afterwards too. That 
euphoric glow, that wonderful feeling of just having 
been fucked, seemed to last longer and sink deeper when 
he did. Besides, the way her fingers were being grabbed 
and sucked inside, she didn't think Stacy wanted her to 
pull out.

Once Stacy's breathing returned to more-or-less normal, 
Betty pulled out (getting a whimper of protest for that) 
and moved up to be face-to-face again. Her eyes were 
closed, mouth slightly open, face flushed and 
perspiring. Touching those lips with her cum-covered 
fingertips, she rubbed some in. Stacy's tongue came out 
and licked off the juice, and her mouth opened for the 
rest.

When it didn't come, she opened her eyes. Seeing what 
was in front of her, she closed her eyes and shivered 
her way through a mini-orgasm, a small aftershock left 
over from the big one. Betty was licking her fingers 
clean of Stacy's juices, just as though she was licking 
a popsicle. The taste wasn't bad, a little sweet, with a 
very slight tang to it. Not too far from the taste of 
her own juices. 

When done, she slid her fingers into Stacy's twat for 
more, causing the girl to shiver and gasp all over 
again. This time she let Stacy suck her fingers clean. 
She went back for one more load, but this time, when she 
put her fingers in Stacy's mouth, she followed them with 
her own lips and tongue, sharing the taste and the 
juices between them.

"Hmm, I think I need some more practice."

"No! Nononono, please. I've had enough for now. You've 
exhausted me. Just let me rest for a little while. Pull 
the covers up and let's cuddle."

"Better not. At least, I'd better not. Dad would have a 
fit if I stayed out all night without calling. You rest 
for a bit. You need it right now. It looks like I might 
have been a bit rough on you. Too many amateur mistakes, 
I guess."

Betty gave Stacy a warm, soft, chaste kiss on the lips, 
pulled up the covers, and left the room. Two hours later 
she was back, waking her friend with the same kind of 
kiss she'd left her to sleep with.

"Hey sleepyhead, time to wake up. It's late, dinner's 
almost here, and I want a shower before I go to bed. 
C'mon, get that cute tail of yours in gear."

"Dinner? Late? Shower? What time is it?" Her brain was 
fuzzy, her voice thick with sleep. She felt good, but 
was tired.

"The pizza should be here in a few minutes, it's dark 
out, I want a shower 'cause I smell funny, and it's 
after ten, in that order. You want to hear it again?"

"How long was I asleep?"

"Hours. Of course, I would've waited for the pizza to 
get here to feed you dinner in bed, but I don't think 
the delivery guy is ready to see me dressed like this."

"You're wearing that again? Shouldn't you be ready to 
head home soon?"

"Nope. I called Dad and told him you were having a party 
here tonight, and it'd be a late one. So I'd be staying 
the night here. I hope it's okay?"

"It's quite okay. I'm just not awake enough yet to 
appreciate it."

"Oops, you'd better get dressed fast, that's the door 
buzzer. Sounds like our pizza is here."

They had their pizza, showered together (her first 
intimate shower with another girl, too bad nothing 
exciting happened) and then they crawled into bed. It 
was the type of intimate, relaxed evening that only two 
lovers could really have. Remembering back to their 
first time at Annabella's.

Betty realized that they were sharing the same sort of 
quiet time together, both able to be themselves with no 
pressures or demands of any kind. She'd never had this 
before with anyone, except maybe a few times years ago 
with her mother. This was a little different, though, 
because of the attraction she had for Stacy. Each touch, 
each kiss and glance, created a soft, warm glow inside.

Both were still tired, suffering the after-effects of 
their early-evening activities, so they curled up 
together, necked and petted for a while, and went to 
sleep.


<<present>>

After dinner, Joyce insisted that Betty and Stacy model 
everything, especially the underclothes and their new 
nightgowns. Betty was rather embarrassed modelling the 
latter in front of Joyce. Some of the bras and panties 
were picked out with Stacy in mind, and were quite sexy 
and revealing. As were the nightgowns. Betty's was 
light, emerald green, very sheer, mostly see through, 
and very skimpy. 

You could see almost everything under it. Joyce thought 
she looked really cute. Stacy thought she looked 
absolutely gorgeous. Stacy's was similar, but much 
longer, reaching to her calves, and in a ruby red 
colour. Joyce gave her a wolf-whistle when she came 
strutting out of the bedroom.

When the modelling show was over, before either had a 
chance to change, Joyce excused herself, saying it was 
time for her to head home.

"I think I'd better, just to make certain your father is 
at home. By the way, he knows I came here this morning. 
He tailed me again. He thinks he's so clever."

"He tailed you? Again?" Joyce had to explain to Stacy 
how they'd been followed on the way to the restaurant. 
"What a bastard!"

"You're both going to have to be careful of him. If he 
starts getting bad, don't hesitate to call the police. 
You wouldn't be doing him any favors by not calling, and 
he'll just get worse. Believe me. Here's the number for 
detective Simons. He's the guy who handled the problems 
when your mother left, and I talked to him this morning 
and explained what's happening now." 

"Oh, I almost forgot. I called Patsy this morning and 
told her what happened. She said thanks, and wished you 
luck. She said, and I'm quoting her on this, 'It's about 
time she stood up to that bastard.' I told you she 
wasn't all that bad."

"Anyway, I'd better go. Maybe I'll get lucky and run 
into Woody on the way out. Wouldn't that be nice."

With that, she packed up and headed out, leaving the two 
girls alone.



CHAPTER 8


<<present>> on their own, the shower and goodnight

<<past>> the next morning plus spring summer & fall, the 
big fight

Epiloge:


<<past>>

It was strange. This was the first time she'd ever woken 
up in the morning with her bed partner beside her (that 
time with Dave didn't count. They hadn't gone to sleep 
until 4 am, and only slept for three hours). After a 
while, lying there, doing nothing, it came to her. The 
strangeness wasn't because it was a different bed in a 
different room, and it wasn't the touch and warmth of 
that naked body pressing into hers. It was the smell. 
Stacy had her own unique smell. With the two of them 
sharing warmth under the covers all night, both had 
released their bodies' odours, which became trapped in 
the sheets. It was a pleasant smell, faintly musky, with 
a hint of her friend's perfume.

Moving carefully, she rolled into the older girl, 
resting her head in the crook of her friend's arm and 
caressing one of Stacy's breasts with her hand. She 
loved the feel of this body beside her, so warm and 
silky soft, naked, with skin contact from head to toe. 
Sighing contentedly, she fell back to sleep.

There was a delicious tickling sensation running through 
her body when Betty woke up again. Without opening her 
eyes, she couldn't tell where it came from. There were 
tingles on her lips, in her nipples, in her clit, and 
deep in her vagina. Everything was sensitized, 
responding to... something.

Opening one eye, she looked down her body to see what 
was doing this to her. She was still stretched out full 
length along Stacy's side with her head resting on her 
friend's shoulder, but now Stacy's arm was hugging her 
as well, holding her close. So that was it. Stacy was 
using one finger to brush and tease just the tip of her 
one exposed nipple. How that managed to echo all through 
her body she didn't know.

"Mornin' sleepyhead. Your turn to wake up feeling good. 
I'm not as nasty as you are though. I wouldn't start 
without you."

"Whatever you're doin', it feels good. How long you been 
doin' it?"

"Ages and ages. I bet your whole body tingles by now."

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You don't think I just woke up and 
suddenly wondered what would happen if I... ?"

"Somebody did it to you too, right?"

"Mmmm hmmm. I know exactly how you feel."

"I've never had this done to me before. I guess I have a 
lot to learn."

"True, but I think we'll enjoy every minute of it. I've 
had some really good teachers. Not much luck with 
lovers, but most were excellent bedmates."

"Anastasia, does this mean we're bedmates now?"

Replying after a sigh and a long pause, she spoke in a 
quiet, serious voice.

"No, Elizabeth, it doesn't. At least, I hope not."

"Why?"

"You nasty creature you. These questions will be the 
death of me.

Elizabeth, I don't want another bedmate. I've had plenty 
of those."

"Then, what?"

"Do I have to spell it out again? I would like us to 
become lovers. I'm very much attracted to you, and I 
like you a lot. It's hard to define, but I want you with 
me."

"I'm glad. I needed to hear that. Remember, I am a 
young, inexperienced, rather naive, insecure little 
girl."

"Here I am, opening myself up to you, and you feed me a 
line like that. This time you don't get off the hook. 
You owe me some honesty now."

"Kiss me first, so I feel better."

"Mmmm, thank you. Anastasia, I'm not sure I want to be 
your lover yet. You hurt me last year, and that's hard 
to forget. I still don't know who you are inside. Until 
I do, I'm not willing to make a commitment. I hope you 
can settle for having me as a bedmate, at least for 
now." 

"If that's what you're willing to give me, for now, I'll 
accept. But when you make up your mind, one way or the 
other, you have to promise to tell me."

"I promise. Now you have to make me a promise too. You 
can't let my Dad know about us. He's absolutely strange 
when it comes to 'those horrid and disgusting lesbian 
affairs' - his words, not mine. I'd be in really big 
trouble if he ever found out."

"All right. My Dad doesn't know about me either. He 
thinks I'm going to go to university to meet Mr. Right. 
If he thought I was going just for the education, he'd 
disown me. Of course, it's easier hiding things from him 
because he lives three hundred miles away."

"You mean, you've been hiding yourself from him for 
years? He doesn't even suspect?"

"That's right. He's so old-fashioned, I think the shock 
of finding out who I really am could give him a heart 
attack. At first, I hid it from him because of my pain 
and humiliation. Now I'm using him to get through 
college. I'm ashamed of what I'm doing, but it's the 
only way I'll ever be free enough to live my own life. 
After I've graduated, I will tell him. No matter what 
the consequences."

"So how come you're here and not at home?"

"I can thank my mother for this. It's one of the best 
things she's ever done for me. When dad got promoted and 
transferred, she convinced him that I should be allowed 
to finish my senior year here, rather than going to a 
new school in a new town with all new people. I'd be 
moving back here in less than a year anyway to go to 
college. It would be just a little bit early. It was 
touch and go, but, even though they're divorced, he 
still has a lot of respect for her opinion."

"Next time you talk to your mother, give her my thanks. 
She kept you here so I could meet you."

"Maybe I will, at that." 

"Anastasia?"

"You're starting to scare me with these questions. What 
would you like to know this time?"

"How did it feel, yesterday, when you did me the first 
time? I mean, it's not every day you get to deflower a 
virgin."

"Virgin?"

"Yeah. You're my first woman, ever."

"I kinda got the impression that I was your first lady 
bedmate, but never really thought of you as a virgin. Is 
that how you felt yesterday?"

"I really did, and I wanted it to be special. That first 
time with a guy was pretty awful, so yesterday was 
really special for me. Thank you."

"Elizabeth, what we did yesterday was special for me 
too. You are the first... bedmate... I've ever had these 
types of feelings for. It was something I'll always 
remember. Even though you are a rookie. Now then, it's 
time for your next lesson."

This lesson involved the proper use of lips and tongue 
when meeting a pussy for the first time. Betty was 
incapable of paying close attention at times, so Stacy 
thought it only fair that she repeat the lesson 
immediately, with Betty trying to duplicate some of it 
herself. They both ended up tired and feeling good.

After a quick shower and breakfast, Stacy dropped Betty 
off at home. Dad was there, as usual. Her story was that 
after the party closed up at two am, she slept on the 
couch. He seemed to accept the story without question. 
She felt guilty about lying to her father, but knew the 
truth would be much worse.

Over the next several months, their intimate times were 
fairly rare, both from lack of common available time and 
the need for secrecy. They were definitely learning 
experiences for Betty. She learned how different it was 
making love with another woman, as compared to Dave or 
those other guy's she'd been with, and what her lips and 
tongue could really do to Stacy. She especially enjoyed 
the easy intimacy, the relaxed way they had with each 
other. Nothing was forced or taken, it was always 
shared. 

Her date for the junior prom was Robert. It took some 
convincing, but after telling both Robert and Jordan 
about her last experience, and getting Jordan to agree 
first, Robert finally assented. Now that was a prom 
night she'd have fond memories of for the rest of her 
life. After 'accidentally' letting it slip that Robert 
wasn't really her boyfriend (they'd already arranged 
this) he was hounded by a half-dozen girls looking to 
get to know him better. As agreed, though, he danced 
with Betty during all the slow songs and kept close tabs 
on her the rest of the time, forestalling any attempts 
by her former beaus to corner her. 

They slipped out quietly, after the last speeches but 
before the dance really wound down. Joined by Dave and 
Rosie, they drove down to beach drive (it should have 
been called river drive) for a walk in the moonlight. It 
made her glad to see those two having so much fun 
together. Stacy and Jordan were there, as planned, and 
the six of them paired off. 

Robert and Jordan disappeared for a while, Stacy and 
Betty went for a walk holding hands, and Dave and Rosie, 
after getting over the shock of seeing the two girls 
kissing, and promising to keep their damned mouths shut, 
sat on a sheltered bench to enjoy each other's company. 
Now Dave and Rosie thought they had a better 
understanding and appreciation for what Betty had done 
for them.

The two girls found a dark, secluded, sheltered spot and 
stood there, just holding each other for a while. Stacy 
asked if this was a better prom than the last one, and 
Betty said yes it was, especially the last part, the 
moonlight stroll. Stacy pulled a small white flower from 
Betty's corsage and wove it into her chestnut hair, 
above her left ear. "From now on Elizabeth, no matter 
what happens, you will always be my 'Little Blossom', my 
beautiful, innocent, delicate flower." She finalized 
that promise with a long, soft kiss.

Summertime was a little better for them because Betty 
had more flexibility about when she'd be available. It 
still didn't seem like they could get physical nearly as 
often as they'd like to (or sometimes almost needed to). 
Betty's part-time job was expanded to nearly full-time 
covering for co-workers on vacation, and, along with Dad 
and Patsy, she spent almost every other weekend at her 
father's favorite beach resort.

Stacy spent several weeks visiting with her father, and 
another couple of weeks visiting her mother. She was 
also putting in as many hours as she could as a 
teacher's aide in summer school and as a study 
coordinator at the university. The pay wasn't that good, 
less than Betty was making as a glorified coffee girl, 
but it was more rewarding.

They had one very close call with Jonathan just before 
school started. It was early on a Friday afternoon, when 
Betty thought the two of them would have several hours 
to themselves at her place. They were in her bedroom, on 
the bed, just getting started, when her dad arrived home 
early. Stacy was already topless and only had time to 
grab a pillow for decency's sake as he walked in on 
them. Thinking fast, Betty had just enough time to stand 
up and kick Stacy's bra and blouse under the bed.

"Dad! You're supposed to knock first before you open the 
door! Now look what you've done. You've embarrassed 
Stacy!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just wondering what you were up 
to."

The only thing he was sorry for was that he hadn't been 
a few seconds faster. He'd caught a glimpse of Stacy's 
tits before she got the pillow in front of her and 
wished he had managed to get a better look, only partly 
because he thought her nipples looked wet. He had his 
suspicions about Stacy and, when he'd seen her car out 
front, had walked in quietly, hoping to catch them 'in 
the act' as it were.

"If you must know, we're trying to find something of 
mine that will fit her. Now would you mind getting out 
and closing the door? You're causing a draft."

They found something that fit Stacy, and 'spilled' some 
cola on her blouse and bra as an excuse for why she 
needed something. They had to wait until her nipples 
returned to normal before heading out. Betty had an 
argument later with her dad about him spying on her and 
said 'what were you hoping to see, me or one of my 
friends naked or something?'

Jonathan started to find more and more excuses to be 
with his daughter, occupying her time, keeping her busy 
and away from Stacy, but trying not to be obvious about 
it. He still couldn't do much about her occasional 
lunches and dinners with Joyce, but he'd think of 
something.

It was slow, it was subtle, and it worked. They started 
to get out of the habit of seeing each other regularly, 
because neither seemed to be able to find much in the 
way of common free time. Betty thought this might be 
Stacy's choice. 

Maybe Stacy was hinting that it was time to move on. 
Meanwhile Betty was feeling lonelier and more distant 
from Stacy every day. They were lucky if they saw each 
other once a week, sometimes missing a week, and rarely 
being able to get intimate. Betty couldn't find any way 
to speak freely about what she was going through. That 
empty feeling inside her was returning, and she couldn't 
figure out why.


<<present>>

Stacy leaned back into the couch. "Whew. Where does she 
get the energy? She tired me out, and I wasn't even 
doing the shopping!"

Sitting down and curling up beside her friend, Betty 
replied. "I think she saves it up for the weekend. I'm 
not sure. She's always been like this, ever since I've 
known her." Stacy wrapped an arm around Betty.

"I wonder about her though. When we were modeling these 
things, (fondling Betty through her skimpy garment) she 
was definitely getting hot. Do you think she's secretly 
bi?"

"You heard her last night. She said no. She might have 
been fibbing though."

"Then again maybe not. Maybe she just likes to look at 
pretty girls in skimpy outfits, without wanting to 
touch."

"Yeah, could be. Sort of like you and those kisses Woody 
hands out. I can see you really like them, but you've 
never seemed interested in men before."

"I'm still not, especially with you here. But that 
doesn't mean I can't enjoy a really good kiss, knowing 
there's no pressure on me to do anything else. You still 
haven't gotten a good kiss from him though."

"I thought that one this morning was wonderful. You mean 
he gets better?"

"You caught him by surprise. He wasn't ready to give you 
a real kiss. Next time, you'd better hold on tight. He 
wraps his arm around you for a reason. He doesn't want 
you to fall down when he's finished. I've seen it 
happen."

"Oooh, I can't wait. C'mere, you. I want you to get as 
good as him, and that means you'll need a *lot* of 
practice."

"Mmmm. I think I could get used to this. Y'know, Stacy, 
it feels strange. I know that we could sit here all 
night, just kissing and feeling good, but I can't seem 
to really relax tonight."

"Okay Betty, what's the problem."

"I'm not sure it's a problem. A little piece of me is 
still worried about my father and what this will do to 
him, and how moving out will affect my life from now on. 
I've lost the security of my home, and that scares me a 
little. Joyce is helping with getting me, I mean us, set 
up here, but she's using my mother's money. Soon I'll be 
talking with her again. After five years! That scares me 
a little too. So much has happened lately, it's becoming 
a little dreamy, sort of like one of those cheap novels 
you read. I mean, I'm sitting here with you, in *our* 
apartment, making kissy-kissy, and it just doesn't seem 
real somehow. I feel like I should be waking up soon to 
find myself still at home in bed. Am I making any 
sense?"

"Well, it sounds like you just need to get used to the 
fact that you've moved out. It will take a while. After 
all, this is only your second night away from home, and 
things happened very quickly. Remember, two weeks ago 
your father didn't even know about us, and three days 
ago you were still living happily at home."

"It did happen kind of sudden, didn't it. One minute I 
was arguing with dad, the next minute I was out of the 
house, probably for good. Deep inside, I don't feel it 
yet."

"I know. There's just too much, too fast, to absorb it 
all right away. Don't worry, you'll catch up. It took me 
a while too, and I was only a bit older than you when I 
moved in here."

Stacy started nibbling on Betty's ears and neck, keeping 
them both silent for a few minutes. Well, silent except 
for the odd moan or sigh.

"One thing I do know, Stacy, is that I'd rather be 
sitting here with you right now than be anywhere else in 
the world. What's going to happen now?"


<<past>>

The proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan one Saturday 
late in October.

Jonathan had promised Patsy an evening of dinner and 
dancing. This would leave Betty alone in the house all 
evening, since her Dad had never returned from one of 
these dates before one in the morning. She called Stacy 
and, amazingly, she was free as well. Stacy promised to 
be over around eight. Dad usually went out between seven 
and seven thirty, so this left a half-hour safety 
margin.

They hadn't seen each other for almost two weeks, and 
hadn't been intimate in over a month, so when Stacy 
arrived they went straight to the bedroom for some much 
needed physical contact. Betty wanted to talk as well, 
but afterwards, when lust didn't cloud her mind. She 
wanted to know why the two of them were growing so 
distant.

It was about an hour later when they were interrupted. 
Both were sweating, lying naked on Betty's bed, with 
Betty's face buried in Stacy's snatch, working her 
towards her third release.

"WHAT THE FUCKING CHRIST IS GOING ON IN HERE!?!"

Jonathan had come home early. Patsy, claiming fatigue, 
had begged off dancing and gone home. Neither of the 
girls would have noticed a brass band marching past the 
bedroom door, and were oblivious to the sounds he'd made 
driving in and opening the front door. The noises they 
were making were unmistakable. All he heard, though, was 
another woman's sounds of pleasure, not his daughter's. 
Giving in to his fears, he peeked into her bedroom. His 
darkest suspicions were now confirmed in the worst way.

It was a very loud and long series of arguments. He had 
almost thrown Stacy out the door naked, but thought 
better of it. He let her get dressed at the front door 
with him standing in front of her, yelling the whole 
time. His temper and language were horrid, calling both 
of them some of the worst things imaginable. 

There hadn't even been time for Betty to throw on a 
robe, trying to catch up to her father when he dragged 
Stacy by the arm out of her room, so she was also naked, 
covered with both of their juices, crying, and yelling 
at her father. Only when she went back to get Stacy's 
clothes did she take time to slip on her housecoat.

Some of the things that hurt the most weren't the cuss 
words or the shouting. They were what he said about 
Stacy, because the words had some plausibility, a 
possible ring of truth to them, no matter how much Betty 
tried to deny it.

"Stacy is a heartless lying bitch! She'll say anything 
at all to keep you coming back for more sex!"

"You goddamn lesbians are all the same! All you want to 
do is ruin a good home so you can laugh at us poor jerks 
when we're left with no one! Just like that bitch who 
stole my wife from me!"

"Get the fuck out of my house! Get the fuck out of my 
life! And stay the fuck out of my Daughter's life OR 
ELSE! And if I ever, and I do mean ever, see or hear of 
you near my daughter again, you will regret it horribly. 
DO YOU UNDERSTAND!"

"Jesus Christ Betty! It's exactly the same as when I met 
your mother! She'd just been dumped by her lover for 
some other floozy after giving her heart away! That 
Stacy bitch is doing the same thing to you!"

"You think she doesn't have other lovers besides you? 
Don't be so fucking naive! That bitch probably sees you 
once ever week or three, just when she wants a piece of 
young innocent tail! She could care less about how you 
feel!"

"No Betty. She doesn't love you. She never did. After 
tonight, you'll never hear from her again. Sure, love 
conquers all, but lust will find an easier route. She'll 
just grab another young innocent girl someplace to play 
her games with."

"Look at your mother! She found a lezzie bitch to shack 
up with and just dumped you and me on our own! Did you 
ever here from her again? I know I certainly haven't! 
And Stacy reminds me a lot of both of them!"

There were many other hateful and spiteful things said, 
some about Stacy, and some between father and daughter. 
Finally Betty went to her room to be alone, tired of the 
shouting. Jonathan sat up for most of the night, 
drinking, feeling somewhat pleased with himself. He'd 
finally caught them, and maybe gotten rid of Stacy for 
good. Now, hopefully, his daughter would change back to 
a normal person and start going out with boys again.


<<present>>

"Well, let's see, we'll probably sit here for a while, 
then have a shower and go to bed."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Little Blossom, we have our whole lives to live. Nobody 
can predict what will happen. We can look ahead and try 
to plan, but that's it. Right now, I'm taking things one 
day at a time, one thing at a time, having as much fun 
as I can. All I'm really sure of is that I love you. You 
want to know what my dream for the future is?"

"What, Stacy?"

"When I'm as old as Joyce, I hope I'm still having as 
much fun as she is. And that you'll be right there with 
me, so we'll never be lonely."

"I like that dream. Anastasia?"

"Yes?"

"I guess we'd better go down and fill out that paperwork 
for Mrs. Jacobs tomorrow. After all, I'm planning on 
being with my lover for a long time."

"You... you mean that? After all this time you've 
finally made your decision?"

"After all this time. I made it when I saw you in the 
restaurant the other day, waiting for me, wanting me. 
The ache in my heart when I thought you'd maybe gone for 
good was terrible. When I finally saw you again, it was 
wonderful. Right there I knew I didn't want to ever lose 
you."

"Elizabeth, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever 
said to me. I also owe you an apology. Not because of 
what you said, because I plan on being the best and the 
only lover you'll ever have, but because of what I put 
you through. It wasn't fair for me to just duck out like 
that. You needed me and I wasn't there. I just wish I 
was as brave as you are. After what your father did to 
me, all I could think of was running and finding a place 
to hide. I almost did too god a job. I abandoned you and 
almost lost you. I'm sorry, and I promise I'll never 
leave you again."

"Thank you. Apology accepted. And I'm gonna hold you to 
your promise. Y'know, I'm starting to get used to this 
now. Just sitting here, talking, you holding me, it 
feels so... so right. It's slowly sinking in that I 
don't have to go home tonight... or tomorrow... or the 
next day. I don't have to call daddy for permission to 
sleep over, worry about him finding out, or any of that 
stuff. Because I'm already home!"

"Yes you are. You're right exactly where you belong. 
With me. And don't you dare let me forget that, ever."

"I won't. As long as you remember that you are mine, and 
mine alone.

I don't share with anybody. Now kiss me. My lips are 
lonely."

They sat there for a while, kissing and caressing each 
other, slowly getting used to the lack of urgency, the 
fact that they didn't need to rush or watch the clock or 
listen for cars or footsteps. 

That feeling of rightness that she sometimes shared with 
Stacy was coming back. Draining away was the worry, the 
tension, the dread, anger, frustration and everything 
else. A calmness entered her, peace that she'd so often 
hungered for but rarely found, settling in to replace 
all those other emotions. She relaxed into Stacy's arms, 
finally able to really enjoy the touch of her skin, the 
warmth of her body, the comfort and security of her 
embrace. 

Sighing with contentment, she turned to hug Stacy, 
resting her head on her lover's chest and curling up in 
her lap. She could hear the slow, steady beating of her 
lover's heart, and feel her chest rise up and down with 
every breath. Stacy had one arm around Betty's 
shoulders, holding her close, and the other was stroking 
her hair, her cheek, and her neck. It was an intimate 
caress, one that made Betty feel safe and protected. 

Alas, reality eventually intruded on this most touching 
scene.

"Anastasia, let's go have that shower now. I'm getting 
cold."

"Me too. These outfits look hot and drive up the 
temperature of whoever sees them, but aren't much good 
at keeping a body warm, are they?"

Their shower was a long, slow, relaxed affair - well, 
mostly relaxed. Stacy showed Betty what the pulse 
setting on her removable showerhead was REALLY for.

First, they washed each other's hair, using Stacy's 
special floral shampoo. Stacy soaped up her partner 
really good, scrubbing her all over with a washcloth and 
a loofa, making her tingle everywhere. This was followed 
by a soapy massage of her neck, shoulders, back, 
breasts, bottom, legs, and finally her pussy (of 
course). 

Betty had her foot up on the ledge, opening her legs 
wide for easy access. After grabbing the showerhead and 
setting it to pulse, she used it to rinse off all the 
soap and give Betty a skin massage, running the staccato 
spray over almost every square inch of flesh. While 
doing this, she also slid two fingers into Betty's hole, 
starting a slow, grinding motion.

Betty liked this so much she grabbed the railing with 
both hands, closed her eyes, and moaned her approval.

Taking her time, Stacy slowly brought her lover up 
towards orgasm. 

When it grew imminent, she told Betty to hold off for a 
surprise. Working the sprayer across and down her 
stomach, she slowly brought the point of contact closer 
and closer to her lover's exposed clit. Betty was 
breathing rapidly, waiting, trying to hold off for that 
contact. 

When it happened, she tried to scream but her throat was 
locked up in her sudden orgasm. It was intense and long, 
lasting until Stacy pulled away the pulsed spray. All 
the way through, she could only gasp and give out small 
'ah' sounds. Without her grip on the railing, Betty 
would have fallen. As it was, Stacy had to help hold her 
up when it was over.

It was wonderful. Betty had needed that for a while. 
Last night she was too tired and wound up for any kind 
of fun or sex play, but tonight was perfect for their 
enjoyment.

Then it was Betty's turn. First the soaping with 
washcloth and loofa, then the massage, then the pulsed 
rinse. No fingers in the twat, no spray on the pussy. 
Yet.

She sat in the bottom of the tub, legs spread, and 
directed Stacy to sit also, facing her, legs spread, one 
arched over and one under her thighs. Holding her hands, 
she had Stacy lean back until she was lying flat out, 
pushing her pussy into the other's crotch. Betty then 
leaned against the back of the tub, head up but relaxed. 
Only then did she begin to play the pulsed spray over 
them both, covering each with the hot water, paying 
particular attention to Stacy's breasts.

It felt good, warm and tingly, especially when it 
touched the more sensitive areas on their bodies, like 
nipples and thighs. Stacy's eyes were closed, immersed 
in the tactile play of the water's caress and the touch 
of skin on skin.

Betty could feel a renewal of her need, the urgency of 
which had only slightly subsided with her first orgasm. 
Using her free hand, she began to play with her breasts 
and nipples, caressing them, gently pulling and pinching 
her sensitive nubs. Occasionally she reached down to 
spread her lips open for the streams of warm water, 
multiplying the effect, bringing her a little closer to 
the edge each time. She could see Stacy doing the same 
thing, unabashedly stroking both their pussies and 
playing with her own breasts and nipples. It was erotic 
because she knew what those soft hands and nimble 
fingers could do to her.

Hardly noticeable at first, the spray began to wander 
more and more over their bellies and thighs, 
occasionally even touching or passing over their 
crotches. She could hear Stacy gasp slightly or give out 
a tiny whimper whenever the spray touched her pussy. 
Tightening its wanderings further, she limited her 
attentions to their mounds, inner thighs and slots.

Betty closed her eyes, sighing with the pleasure of this 
new sensation. Using ears and touch, it was easy to tell 
when she hit Stacy's sensitive spots and how close she 
was to going over. She could feel everything through her 
thighs, buttocks, and pussy lips. Each time Stacy 
clamped down with her vagina, there was a tickling 
sensation on Betty's outer lips. It only added to the 
pleasure of their slow mutual masturbation. 

Building up a tiny bit at a time, Betty began a soft 
grind of her hips, rubbing herself up against Stacy's 
ass and crotch, almost crying when Stacy's hips started 
rotating in counterpoint. She let it drag out, not in 
any hurry for this, wanting a huge release. It was 
incredible how hot her cunt felt right now, juices 
flowing freely, washing over herself and Stacy, mixing 
in with the warm streams of water.

Neither girl cared about or noticed anything outside of 
their bodies, totally wrapped up in this deep, 
hedonistic play. The only senses active were touch and 
hearing, and that limited to the sound of the spray and 
of each other's pleasure. Both could feel the other's 
arousal, the twitching, the twisting, the muscle spasms, 
being locked in pussy against pussy. 

Each twist of her wrist sent fresh jets of hot, pulsing 
water against one or the other slot, sending new waves 
of sensation deep into each of their bellies. The one 
not directly under the spray received the lighter feel 
of the backwash and splashes, and the contractions, 
moans and whimpers of the other. Both were heavily 
aroused, outer and inner lips spread, clits fully 
engorged and extended, reaching for the next pulse of 
spray, water alternately flowing into and being squeezed 
out of each hole, this squirt sometimes travelling 
straight into the open hole of the other, all adding to 
their intense, shared pleasure.

"Oh god, I'm so close!"

"Soon, Stacy, soon. It'll be soon. I'll say when. Wait 
for me."

"Hurry. Please."

It was so close, Betty holding off until she couldn't 
endure any more. With a long, drawn-out whine, she said 
"now."

They each convulsed, bucking into one another. She felt 
her orgasm approaching, then crashing over her like an 
ocean wave, pulling her along helplessly, covering her 
completely, rolling her over and over. Each time she was 
coming down a little, the spray would be back on her, 
pushing her wave higher, or Stacy would buck again and 
rub hard against her. There was no stopping until her 
pleasure wave was completely spent, leaving her gasping 
on the beach. She left the spray full on Stacy then, 
knowing she could extend her orgasm longer, waiting 
until she cried 'no more'.

It was hard to come down. Each time she relaxed a 
little, Stacy would jerk or twist, rubbing against her 
lips and her clit, setting off small ripples of pleasure 
throughout her body. She couldn't help her own spasms 
from happening either, each one shooting down through 
her body, through her crotch and into her lover, making 
her squirm and groan. They bounced back and forth like 
this for what seemed like ages before calming down.

Both were completely drained, lying there in the tub, 
unable to move, the water still pulsing, but no longer 
directed at building their excitement. It might not be 
the strongest orgasm she'd ever had, but it was 
definitely the deepest and most satisfying. She just 
wanted to lie there and rest, maybe forever, bathed in 
that wonderful post-orgasmic bliss.

After the longest time, Stacy finally spoke.

"I think we're gonna do this again someday."

There was a long pause before Betty answered.

"Yeah. Like in a week or two. I might wake up by then."

<pause>

"Did it hit you as hard as it did me?"

<pause>

"Well, if you're talking about a freight train, yeah."

<pause>

"That's... pretty close. I guess we should get to bed 
soon, before I fall asleep here in the tub."

<pause>

"Yeah. Another hour I just might be able to move."

<pause>

With much moaning and groaning, and a little whimpering, 
they crawled out of the tub, dried off and went to bed.

Holding each other, both warm, tired and sleepy, 
completely satiated, they kissed, then relaxed. Each 
spoke once.

"Betty, I love you."

"Stacy, I love you too."

And fell asleep.


<<fourteen months later>>

Christmas this year was held at Marion and Mike's ranch 
house. Everyone made the trip except Jonathan. He hadn't 
been invited. The host and hostess (Betty's mom and her 
newish husband) were in the kitchen cleaning up, aided 
by Joyce, Diana, and Susan (Diana's live-in for the last 
few years). Walter and Madge (Stacy's Dad and his new 
girlfriend) were in the backyard along with Carol 
(Stacy's Mom, Walter's ex-wife), sitting and jawing with 
Phil and Nancy. They were Mike's two kids from his 
previous marriage, so officially they were Betty's step 
brother and step sister. Betty and Stacy were sitting in 
the front room, quietly talking, and playing with five 
year old Victoria. 

It was over two weeks after she left home before she had 
the courage to talk with her father and tell him what 
was happening. He was calm and reasonable the whole 
time. The fact that they met in a restaurant and had 
Robert, Patsy, and a police officer as witnesses 
probably had something to do with it. He finally agreed 
to let Joyce and the detective pack up her things. 

Betty refused to ever step foot in that house again, or 
ever be alone with him. At least they were now on 
speaking terms. She mailed him a Christmas card, from 
her and Stacy, and he called to wish them both the best 
of the season before they left. She told him where they 
would be spending Christmas. He was silent for a minute, 
but then told her to have fun.

The two girls settled in nicely together, rarely having 
spats and immediately making up afterwards (some thought 
their spats were just an excuse to make up, but that's 
some folks opinion and you know what that's worth). 
Stacy was now a sophomore in college, working towards a 
combined degree in economics and business management. 
Betty was a senior, still in high school, preparing for 
college. She didn't know if she wanted to go into 
biology, sociology, or theater. Some of Jordan's passion 
for the stage had apparently rubbed off onto her.

Walter was getting used to the fact that his daughter 
would probably never marry, at least in the traditional 
sense. He did smile when Stacy hinted that grand-kids 
weren't totally out of the question. That got a strange 
look from Betty, who promised herself they'd be talking 
about this real soon.

Patsy called them early on Christmas day to wish 
everyone a merry Christmas (from her place, of course). 
She and Jonathan were going out for a romantic dinner 
that night, and the next day they would be flying off to 
Paris for a week. Betty actually hoped they'd have a 
good time.

Victoria Naomi Brust was an absolutely delightful 
surprise for Betty. It was the biggest shock of her life 
when she found out that she had a baby sister. 
Apparently Mom was pregnant when she left Jonathan, and 
never told him. He still didn't know. Patsy did, and had 
sent along a nice present for the little tyke.

All in all, things were looking pretty good.

THE END

Authors notes: Jonathan did finally learn about Victoria 
and got to meet her for the first time last year. It was 
just after the birth of his and Patsy's son. Betty and 
Stacy brought her out to see her new half-brother, and 
promised they'd bring the baby back for a visit someday 
too. Patsy thought it was a wonderful idea, giving the 
rest of his relatives a chance to see him. This earned 
her some dark looks from Jonathan. 

No, Patsy hasn't married Jonathan or even moved in with 
him. She said he'd take that as a sign of ownership, 
which she could never stand. This way, he had to stay 
nice or she could (and would) tell him to take a hike.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 67