Date: Mon, 31 Jan 2005 22:31:26 -0500
From: Rogue Writer <roguewriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad (1/4) (F/F)

A DEATH, BAKED BOB, AND THE PERSONAL AD
By Rogue Writer

(F/F, oral, anal, exhibitionism, jewelry, drugs, tattoos, piercings, food,
bad accents)

DISCLAIMER -- This is a fictional story to be read and enjoyed.  If you can't
read, stop reading.  If you can't enjoy, stop reading.  If you don't like
any of the story codes mentioned above, stop reading.  If you can't stop,
it's not my problem.


Part 1 -- Death and Addiction


There was complete silence for almost the entire car ride.  At first I
wasn't sure if Greg wanted it that way or if he was uncomfortable and unsure
of what to say.  We were stopped at a red light when a woman walking a
Dalmatian crossed in front of us.  She was wearing a white fur coat with
black spots and looked like the human twin of her dog. Greg broke the
silence by saying, "If I were that pooch I'd be mighty offended."

I didn't respond and kept my eyes forward.  Greg turned to me, and out of
the corner of my eye I could see that he was smiling.  He shrugged and said,
"I can't tell who's walking who."

That's when I knew he was uncomfortable.  I didn't say anything.  Greg's
smile slowly dropped.  If there was a slight amount of tension in the car
before, it had just doubled.  A horn behind us honked because the light was
green.  Greg hit the gas and didn't say anything else for the rest of the
ride.

It wasn't that I was trying to be a bitch, I was just holding in my
emotions.  I'd wanted to cry all day.  But I didn't want to do it in front
of Greg or any of his family, didn't want to give them the satisfaction of
seeing me vulnerable.  I wanted them to see a woman who was standing tall,
not ashamed of who or what she was and able to take tragedy without turning
into a puddle of tears.  Especially after the way they'd treated me.

I wasn't sure if Greg's offer to give me a ride home came from genuine
sincerity or if someone had dumped the responsibility on him.  I should have
left with my friends when they took off, but something -- pride,
stubbornness, or most likely spite -- made me stick around until almost
everyone was gone.  Very few of the family talked to me or even acknowledged
my presence, which seemed to make it all the more important for me to stick
around, so they would remember that I had been a part of her life too.

When we pulled up in front of my building I uttered a thank you, figuring I
should get out quickly and save us both from any more uncomfortable time
together.  But before I could open the door Greg said, "Keisha?"

"Yes?" I responded, without looking at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, "for the way my family behaves around you."

It should have cut the tension in half, yet somehow it didn't work.  I
wasn't exactly sure how I was going to respond to his statement, but Greg
continued before I had the chance.  "They're a conservative bunch of people.
  And with Monica being the baby of the family, well, that just made it
worse."  He paused for a moment and I realized he couldn't look at me
either.  "They just wanted to think that it was some kind of phase she was
going through."

"It was not a phase," I spat out with anger, "and she was twenty-seven, not
a baby."

"I know," Greg said.  Then he turned to look at me.  "And I know it wasn't
just some phase.  I think I knew it since we were teenagers.  Just one of
those things you kind of sense, you know?"  Greg waited for a response but I
offered none.  He continued, "Anyway, I'm not trying to excuse the way they
behaved, in fact I'm telling you I know it's not right and I'm sorry I
played along with it." He turned and looked out at the street.  "My cousin
really loved you and we should have understood that.  To tell you the truth,
I don't think Monica had half as much of a problem with the family accepting
her for who she was as she did with how we treated you."

There was a long silence after that, but the tension was gone, at least for
me.  I realized I needed to ease it for Greg, but couldn't think of how.

Finally I said, "When I came out to my dad...he laughed."

Greg turned to me and I looked at him.  "Not the kind of reaction you'd
usually expect, but if you knew my dad," I smiled, both for emphasis and the
thought of my father.  Greg smiled too.  "He was such a joker," I continued,
"and a wiseass.  He laughed at a lot of things in life.  But it was the kind
of laughter that came as a reaction to how horrible and twisted life could
be, because if he didn't laugh the only other options were anger or
depression.  So when he was done laughing he told me `Honey, you're a woman,
you're black, and now you're gay.  All you need is a disability and you'll
be the Minority Queen.'"

Greg laughed outright and so did I.  When we finished I shook my head.  "And
in that wonderfully fucked up way of his I immediately knew what my dad was
saying.  That I'd better prepare for having a hard time with people
accepting me."

Greg's smile faded and so did mine.  We both looked straight ahead.  Greg
said, "You're father sounds like a wise man."

I took a deep breath.  "He was.  And he was right about a lot of things."  I
turned towards Greg again.  "But it's people like you that prove he could be
wrong sometimes."  I leaned over and kissed Greg on the cheek.  "Thank you."

I got out of the car before he could say anything else.


Walking up the stairs to my apartment brought back memories, specifically of
that day, six months ago, which was the last time I could remember feeling
any kind of happiness.  A day when I was running up those stairs with only
joy and excitement coursing through my body because I'd just found out I'd
landed a promotion at work, something I had been working on and sweating
over for months.  Monica kept telling me I'd get it even though I worried
and fretted, so I was dying to tell her.  When I burst through the door she
was sitting on the couch.

"You will never guess what happened!" I yelled.  And that was exactly the
last moment of happiness I had.  The look on Monica's face told me there was
something wrong, very wrong.  She was home early because she had an
appointment with the doctor and suddenly I put the two together in my head.

Yeah, that was the last moment of happiness I can remember.

It was cancer, and it was long past the doctor's ability to do much about
it.  Sure, there were some last ditch efforts and the possibility of taking
part in a new experimental drug.  Lots of researching on my part with
everything from doctors working on the extreme edges of science to holistic
and natural remedies to positive thinking therapy, but nothing worked and
here I was six months later, walking through the door to the apartment
again.

And this time she was gone.  Forever.

Crying should have been the first thing on my agenda, I'd been holding it in
all day, but I was so tired that I went to the bedroom and laid down on the
bed and passed out.  When I woke up the sun was setting.  I went into the
living room and saw there were some messages on the machine.

My fingers went to touch the play button, and that's when it happened.  A
flash of memory from when Monica and I bought the machine -- we got into an
intense argument about whether to get it in silver or black (I won).  It was
one of those stupid arguments that started over something small and
blossomed to the point where it's more about anger than the small thing that
started it.  After spending the entire ride home bringing up every single
thing that bothered both of us about each other, we got into a screaming
match in the parking lot and finally ended up apologizing for everything we
ever did to piss each other off in the stairwell.  The makeup sex started as
soon as we walked through the door when she pushed me against the wall and
started kissing me.  Now I was alone with the stupid silver answering
machine.  Somehow I wished I could go back and let her win the argument.  I
shook my head and chalked it all up to not eating anything all day.

More memory flashes came in the kitchen.  The microwave was the second one
we owned together, only because we dropped the first on the way up the
stairs.  The utensil drawer held two sets of silverware that didn't even
come close to matching -- the cheap stuff from my college apartment and her
grandmother's ornate set that was older than our building.  The Liberty Bell
salt and pepper shakers were from a romantic weekend in Philadelphia where
we spent the entire time having sex in our hotel room.  We realized we
needed something to remember the trip and picked them up in the gift shop
after checking out.  I made food quickly and left the kitchen.

Eating and watching television kept my mind busy for a little while.  But
once all the food was in my stomach I started noticing how every damn story
on television has a romance blooming, in trouble or ending.  Don't these
stupid writers have anything else to write about?  Then I remembered when
Monica wrote a poem about the first time she saw me.  I could recall some of
the lines and started reciting them to myself and suddenly I started crying.

I turned off the television and curled up on the couch.  My nose was buried
in the cushion and I smelled the same scent I'd smelled all those times we
spent curled up here.  Monica would usually lay behind me and start by
kissing my neck, soft, light kisses that made me moan.  Then she'd press her
lips against one spot and let her tongue come between them to touch my skin.
  Her hand would slide slowly up and down my side until she finally got
under my shirt and...

No, no.  I wasn't going to do this to myself.  I needed to keep it together.

But the more I told myself that, the more I felt myself slipping.  I looked
around the room for some kind of help, but all I saw were things that
brought back more memories of Monica.  The computer she always screamed at,
the do-it-yourself cabinet that we put together backwards, the desk lamp we
both hated but kept around, pictures of us every place we'd been.  My eyes
fell on the picture of us at her uncle's cabin.  I walked over and picked it
up, staring at the two of us with wide smiles on our faces.  That was what
did it.  I started into an outright bawl and dropped to the floor, clutching
the picture to my chest and calling her name several times.  The picture
reminded me that at twenty-nine years old I was already a widow.

I had to get out of the apartment.  Jumping to my feet, I barely stopped to
grab my jacket and keys before I was out the door.  When I got to the street
I looked both ways, unsure of where I was headed.  I realized I needed to do
something extreme to get my mind off of things.  Suddenly I knew what that
was.  I walked the three blocks to a local bar, but I wasn't there for a
drink.  Alcoholism runs in my family, so I always avoided using booze to
ease my pains.  I used something else.

When I walked in the door someone grabbed my arm.  This was no surprise
since most of my friends hang out there.  But the person on the other end of
that arm was Asian Andy. When he was a baby Andy was abandoned on the steps
of a church, and since he doesn't know his exact ethnic background he just
calls himself Asian Andy.  His hair is down to his shoulders and he wore one
of the six hundred heavy metal T-shirts in his wardrobe.  For a laid back
guy, Andy always has a serious look on his face and tonight was no
different.  If I didn't know any better I'd think he was waiting for me to
walk in.

"Keisha, don't do it.  This is a mistake."

I yanked my arm away from him.  "Stop it Andy," I said and walked away as
fast as I could.  Andy is a sweetheart, but he claims to have psychic
visions that predict the future, and that bothered the hell out of me.  I'm
a firm believer in self-determination, that our destinies are not written
and we have the power to choose our own fate.  It's why I don't practice
religion, read horoscopes, call psychics, use Ouija boards or toss pennies
into fountains.  So Andy's visions have become more of an annoyance for me
on principal.  I decided not to worry about it and concentrate on what I
came for.

My eyes looked up and down the bar until I finally I spotted him.  He also
has long hair, except it's brown and curly, and where Andy is medium height
and thin, Baked Bob is a large framed man who towers over most people.
Usually he wears T-shirts as well, but Bob was still in his suit from the
funeral.  He was talking to an attractive woman that I recognized but
couldn't place.  I walked up to them and smiled.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt," I said.

Bob smiled.  "Keish!  Didn't expect to see you out tonight, I mean, after
the funeral and..." he suddenly turned to the woman.  "My friend Keisha here
is a lesbian.  You know what I always say about her, `Real men don't eat
Keish'."

His female companion laughed.  Something seemed strange about Bob; he was
acting weird and talking too fast.  I realized I needed to cut to the chase.
  "Bob, I need some pot."

Baked Bob looked like a deer caught in the headlights.  He got up and
excused himself and pulled me over to the wall.  "Your timing sucks ass."

I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen before -- they were
clear.  That's what was wrong with him.  "Holy shit," I said.  "Are you
straight?"

He sighed.  "I didn't want to smoke before the funeral today.  I figured I
owed Monica at least that."  While Monica smoked pot once in a while, she
objected to Bob's twenty-four seven diet.  Bob smiled, "And then I met the
lovely lady over there and we've been together the rest of the day."

"Wait...you picked up a girl at the funeral?!"

Bob nodded with vigor.  "Crazy, right?  I never thought about it before, but
funerals got loads of opportunity.  You're with all these girls you've never
met and you all have something in common to talk about already, you know?
`How'd you know the deceased?'  It's the perfect icebreaker."

I shook my head.  Monica had to be turning over in her grave right now.  Bob
continued, "And not only do I meet a chick, but she's so into me.  We spent
the day together, and I mean the whole day!  It's like she doesn't want to
be without me."

I looked over at the woman, and then it hit me.  "Fuck, Bob, that's Monica's
cousin Leslie!"

"So?"

"So she's insane!"

Bob laughed.  "Well, Monica always said any girlfriend of mine would have to
be."

"No, I mean literally insane!  She was committed for two years because she
was obsessed with some married guy and tried to kill his wife!"

"Really?" Bob looked over at Leslie.  "Cool."

"Cool!" I yelled.  Bob put up his hands to quiet me down.  I caught my
breath.  "I tell you she's a lethal head case and you say `cool'?"

"Yeah.  I mean, haven't you ever wished you had someone so into you that
they'd kill for you?"

Suddenly my heart sank.  Bob's jaw dropped and he put his hands on my
shoulders.  "Keish, I'm sorry, I didn't..."

I pushed his hands off.  "Don't," I said, keeping myself calm and trying to
keep Monica out of my head.   "Don't worry about it.  I just need some
stuff."

"I don't have any here.  But..." Baked Bob looked like he was in thought,
which was a strange look on him.  "I know someone who has some stuff, and
she's nearby."

Bob said he would call ahead and tell this woman I was coming.  I had to
take a taxi to the address he gave.  The whole ride over I kept thinking
about what Asian Andy said to me.  Deep down I knew I shouldn't even be
entertaining the thought, especially since I don't believe anyone has
psychic ability.  But there's just something about Andy.  I've seen him in
action, and while he's not a hundred percent correct all the time, his track
record was good enough for me to wonder if he was the real deal.

The address was in a part of town with large mansions, where rich people are
separated from the common riff raff by endless front lawns and tall bushes.
  The actual distance was only two miles, but in so many ways it's light
years from my area where apartment buildings and small row houses sit right
on top of each other.  It took about as long to walk to the front door as it
does for me to walk up to my fifth floor apartment from the street.  Right
as I was about to touch the bell the door swung open.  There was an Asian
woman standing there wearing a bra, panties and a sheer bed jacket. Many
Asian women can be hard to judge age-wise -- this one could have been
anywhere from sixteen to thirty-six.

"Renee?" I asked.

"No.  You must be Keisha.  Lady Renee has been expecting you.  Come in."  I
walked in and she shut the door behind me.  The foyer was lit with several
candles and a chandelier that barely illuminated the area around it.  The
woman stepped in front of me.  "Lady Renee will see you in the master
bedroom.  Follow me please."

I had to keep myself from laughing at all this pomp and circumstance.  Lady
Renee?  She's been expecting me?  There had to be ten or fifteen minutes
between the time I left Bob and the time I got there.  And this woman must
have been waiting by the window in order to open the door before I had a
chance to ring the bell.  What was really strange was the master bedroom
part, unless Renee was an invalid.

I followed her through the foyer into the living room.  It looked very
fancy, but in a strange way, like the designer was on crack.  Each corner of
the room had a long piece of fabric hanging down from the ceiling with an
excess bunch piled on the floor.  Every piece was a different color and none
of them matched the couch or chairs.  Somehow every one of the knick-knacks
around the room managed to look out of place, and instead of being one
piece, the mirror above the fireplace was a bunch of smaller mirrors of
different sizes and shapes.  It looked like a puzzle that would never come
together.

As we walked up the stairs I could see the thong the woman was wearing
through the sheer fabric of the bed jacket.  There was a tattoo on her right
butt cheek that I couldn't make out.  She wore an anklet on her left ankle,
and when I looked closer I realized it looked like diamonds.  Either it was
a really good fake or one of the most expensive pieces of jewelry I'd ever
seen.

Once we were upstairs she led me to a set of double doors and then turned to
face me.  "Please remove your shoes and socks," she said.  I complied and
put them beside the door.  The way things were in this place I wouldn't have
been surprised if the bedroom floor was covered in an inflatable moonwalk.
The woman turned and gave a soft knock on the door.

A voice from inside said "Enter."

She opened both doors and we stepped in.  It was a large room designed the
same way as the one we passed through downstairs, with mismatching trinkets
and the colored fabrics hanging in each corner.  Soft music played from a
stereo I couldn't see, some kind of nature sounds were mixed in with the
music.  There was a heavy smell of incense in the air.

Against the far wall of the room was a large four-poster bed with a canopy.
On the bed were two naked women.  One had copper colored skin and long dark
hair and looked to be somewhere in her mid to late thirties.  Her body had
some curves to it and she had large breasts with large, brown nipples and a
thin strip of pubic hair. The other woman was a pale, thin girl who looked
to be nineteen or twenty.  She had small breasts and if she ever allowed
hair to grow on her mound it would probably be the same reddish brown as on
the top of her head.  The girl had what I assumed to be a bong in her hand.
It was a large metal piece with a tube covered in metallic mesh leading out
of it.  The girl held the tube while the older woman sucked out of it.

"Miss Renee, this is Keisha."

The older woman sat up and slowly let the smoke dribble out of her nostrils.
  "Thank you Zhi.  You may go."  Renee spoke with an English accent.  Zhi
gave a slight bow and closed the doors as she left.  It was getting harder
and harder to keep from laughing at all this.

"So," Renee said.  "Baked Bob tells me you want to buy some pot."  She
started stroking the younger woman's breast.  "How much?"

"Depends on price.  An eighth.  Maybe a quarter."

Renee gave what she must have considered a snort.  "That's barely worth my
time.  Why did he send you to me?"

I smiled and shrugged.  "We're both lesbians?"

That didn't amuse her any.  "Are you planning to sell what you buy from me?"

"No.  It's just for personal use."

Renee smiled.  "Personal use.  You work in the corporate world, don't you?"
I simply nodded without offering more detail.  The less she knew about me
the better.

"I pity you," she said.  "When I was doing interior design I'd take a few
jobs for corporations.  I was able to see how they sucked the life out of
people, turned them into robots scurrying around at their bidding, doing
things their way, using their language.  Personal use."  She shook her head.
  "So, is pot the only thing you personally use?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"That's a shame.  There are so many other wonderful things to try."  Renee
stared into my face for a moment.  "Bob told me you're in pain," she said.
I felt a flash of anger at my friend, but filed it away for later.

"Is that why you want the pot?" she asked.  "To relieve your pain and
suffering?"

I nodded sheepishly.

Renee shook her head with a disapproving look.  "Marijuana is not the
solution for that.  It's for opening up your mind, not shutting it down."
Renee stretched out her hand, tapped on a silver tray on the bedside and
said, "Duscha."  I assumed that was the young woman's name, because she slid
off the bed and brought the tray to me. I noticed Duscha wore a silver belly
chain.  On the tray there were about a dozen white pills.

"What is it?" I asked.

Renee smiled.  "Your ticket down the rabbit hole."  Duscha giggled.

I sighed and said, "No, really, what are they?"

"The cure to your pain."

"No thanks," I said.  "One vice is enough for me.  I don't even smoke that
often anyway."

Renee got on her knees, crawled to the bedpost and leaned on it.  "Life
should be experienced, not denied.  Besides, what do you have to lose?"

For the first time since I walked into the house I thought about Monica.  I
took a pill off the tray and looked at it.  Small, round, and innocent
looking, it hardly struck me as a magical cure.  Getting Monica back was the
only way to do that.  I popped the pill into my mouth and swallowed.

Renee smiled.  "Welcome to oblivion."

"I don't feel anything," I said.

"Soon.  Let us have some entertainment while we wait."  Renee turned.
"Duscha."

"Yes ma'am."  The girl spoke with an accent that I couldn't place, maybe
European.   After she walked out I asked Renee where she was from.

"Russia.  She came over here to be a model.  I don't think it's working out
to well for her."  There seemed to be a sinister quality to Renee's voice as
she said the last part, but I couldn't tell for sure.  Reality was in flux
at the moment.

The doors opened and Zhi walked in behind Duscha.  Renee got up and went to
a round, half backed sofa across from the side of the bed.  When she lay
down on it I noticed there was enough space for another person.  Renee
looked at me and patted the space next to her.  I walked over and sat on the
edge.

"Don't be afraid of me," Renee said.  "I only bite upon request."

I slid over and lay next to her.  She put her arm around me and we looked at
the bed.  Duscha and Zhi were kneeling on it, facing each other.  I realized
the music had changed and some techno song was playing.  The two girls
started crawling around on the bed, like two predators sizing each other up.

Renee's fingers started caressing my shoulder.  As the two women circled, I
could see the playful look on Duscha's face and the fierce look on Zhi's.
It was obvious the Asian woman was very competitive.  Duscha may have been
playing around, but to someone like Zhi, even a game like this was something
she had to win.

Renee's other hand rested on my leg and started moving back and forth.  For
a moment it looked like Duscha was going to move in on Zhi, but she held her
place.  Renee's hand moved up the inside of my leg.

Duscha started to swat her hand at Zhi, trying to provoke her.  I felt
Renee's other hand move from my shoulder to the back of my neck.  One of
Duscha's swats made contact with Zhi's face, just as Renee's hand arrived at
my sex and pressed down.

I sighed as Zhi made some sort of grunting noise.  Suddenly she lunged.
Duscha was caught off guard and before she knew it Zhi was on top of her,
literally, kissing her mouth with force.  There was pressure on my neck and
suddenly Renee's mouth and mine were engaged.  Our kiss was as soft and
gentle as the one on the bed was savage and forced.

I was a little reluctant to open my mouth to Renee, but suddenly my mind had
the notion that it wanted to feel her tongue and I gave in.  Then I realized
something had changed.  A shift of some kind that wasn't as much physical as
it was mental.  Renee ended the kiss by putting her hands on my face and
pushing it back.   Her thumbs were caressing my cheeks when she asked, "How
do you feel?"

Suddenly I remembered the pill.  The smile on my face was more of a feeling
than an action.  "Much better," I responded.

"Good," Renee said.  We looked at the bed and watched for a moment as Zhi
sucked on Duscha's right breast, then turned back towards each other.  Renee
pulled my face to hers and we started a slow, sensual kiss. She pulled me
closer and I could feel her bare breasts up against my shirt.  I brought my
hands up and slowly touched her breasts with my fingertips, lightly tracing
their size.  Our eyes made contact and we stared at each other as we slowly
broke the kiss.

A groan brought our attention back to the bed.  Zhi's tongue had made its
way down Duscha's stomach and was licking her crotch.  Duscha spread her
legs and, with the grace and agility of a gymnast, brought them back so her
ankles were at her ears.  Zhi licked the underside of Duscha's legs in such
a slow and deliberate manner that Duscha's moan sounded more like she was
being tortured than pleasured.  Zhi sat back for a moment and let her
fingers trace around Duscha's crotch, and then leaned in to give a long,
slow lick from asshole to clit.

"Oh, God!" Duscha cried out, and then said something in what sounded like
Russian.  At that point Zhi dove in and began eating out the young girl in
front of her.

I lost track of time after that.  Renee started kissing me again and while
that happened we both worked on getting my clothes off.  I licked and sucked
one of Renee's nipples, my tongue flicking over the skin as my hand caressed
and tweaked the other one.  She turned us over and licked down my left side
until she got to my foot, which she bathed with her tongue, and after giving
the other one the same treatment she licked up the inside of my leg to my
sex.  I anticipated her tongue so much there I could almost feel it as she
locked eyes with me.  Renee leaned down and pressed her lips to my mound,
kissing it as she gave a moan that sent vibrations through my entire body.

Renee was easily the best lover I'd ever had.  In that night alone she
discovered all of my sensitive spots -- behind my ears, my armpits, my toes
and even the line where my leg met my hip right above my crotch.  Renee's
tongue danced over my nether lips so well that I was crying and screaming.
At that moment, if she had asked me to go out and rob a bank for her to
continue, I probably would have done it.  When I cried out "Oh yeah!" as her
tongue moved down and touched my rosebud, I noticed the look in her eyes and
the grin on her face.  She knew she had my weakness.  Renee took a break
from my pussy and gave me the best rim job I'd ever experienced.  The music
had changed and "Six Underground" by The Sneaker Pimps was playing.

I looked at what was happening on the bed.  Zhi was on her hands and knees.
She had lost her housecoat and thong and I could see the tattoo on her ass
was a green colored Chinese character.  Duscha was behind Zhi, her hands
holding open the Asian woman's ass checks as her tongue worked on Zhi's
anus.  Zhi's face showed little reaction to what was being done to her, but
I had the impression Zhi would look the same way if her arm were being
ripped off.  Her only indication of pleasure was to make a low moan when she
exhaled.  And there was something about that subtle gesture that made it
twice as sexy as it would have been if she was writhing and screaming.
Suddenly Zhi looked up and our eyes met. There was sadness in her stare, and
something in the look we exchanged went beyond the sexual acts being
performed on us.  A recognition of some kind, and suddenly I had the feeling
neither of us were very happy people.

Renee crawled up my back and lay down on top of me, kissing along my
neckline and then bringing her lips close to my ear.

"Do you feel it now?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," I said, dragging out the last word for way too long.  We watched
as Zhi turned over and Duscha began eating her pussy.  I passed out before
Zhi came.

When I woke up it was dark in the room.  I was still on the two-person chair
and there was a blanket over me.  Renee was on the bed, flanked by Zhi and
Duscha, all of them asleep. The little white pill was still working it's
magic, but I managed to find my clothes without waking anyone and slipped
out into the hallway where I got dressed.  I went out the front door and
started walking.  My place was across town and it was three in the morning,
but I was feeling very good and it didn't seem like a big deal.  When I got
to the center of town I looked through all the shop windows as I passed.
For some reason I equated it with flipping channels while watching
television, checking out each one and moving on.

But looking through the window at a hobby shop stopped me cold in my tracks.
  They had displays of little model houses and scenes.  One of them was a
log cabin.  Suddenly the numbness in my chest went away and my heart felt
hollow.  For the first time in several hours Monica's face popped back in my
head.

I remembered being blindfolded on the ride.   We were in Monica's jeep and
it felt like we needed to be.  The bumps on the road felt like we were
driving over boulders and into depressions bigger than the potholes in
Brooklyn.  I heard Monica laugh, that sweet childish laugh of hers, and
realized she was having fun on this road.

I pointed at the blindfold.  "Is this because I always complain about your
driving?"

"Nooo, silly.  There's a surprise."

I grabbed at the dashboard as we rose and then dropped.  "I'll be surprised
enough if we survive the trip."

Monica laughed again.  A little while later we stopped, but I wasn't sure if
it was because she hit the brakes or we were stuck.  I heard Monica open her
door and get out.  "Hey!" I said, but there was no response.  I was about to
peek out of the blindfold when my door opened.

"No peeking!" Monica said as she slapped my hand away.  She assisted me out
of the jeep and led me a few feet until we stopped.  Other than the fact
that I knew we were outside because I felt the sun on my face I had no clue
where we were.

"Stay put for a minute," Monica ordered.  I heard some kind of rustling
nearby.  A bird chirped and then there was a kind of swooshing sound.  I was
really confused.

"Okay," Monica called out from what sounded like a few yards behind me.
"You can take it off now."

I slid the cloth from my eyes and what I saw took my breath away.  We must
have been on the side of a mountain because I could see a valley below and
other mountains off in the distance.  It was one of the most beautiful
vistas I'd ever seen.  Most of the valley was full of trees and the majestic
mountain range beyond looked untouched by human hands.  "Wow," I simply
stated.

Monica said, "If you think that's cool, check out what's behind you."

I turned.  It was a small log cabin with a stone chimney and a large porch
with two rocking chairs sitting on it.  The cabin sat near the middle of a
small grass clearing surrounded by trees, and behind the cabin it looked
like the hill sloped up another half a mile to the top of the mountain.
Monica stood in front of the cabin, stark naked except for a waist chain and
an anklet.  She held her arms up high.  "Isn't it fantastic?" she yelled.

I walked over to her.  "What is this place?"

"My uncle owns it.  Well, the cabin and some of the land around it."  She
put her arms around me and gave me a kiss.  "Just think," she said when she
broke the kiss.  "You and me here for eight days, far away from
civilization.  No need for clothes.  We can have sex anywhere we want.  And
there's a lake down the path over there."

"Mmm," I said.  "Skinny dipping."

"Only one problem," she said.  "You've still got your clothes on."

"Maybe you can rip them off for me."

"Or maybe you'll struggle out of them trying to catch up to me."  Monica
pushed me away and ran towards the path.  I started taking off my clothes as
I ran after her.  It wasn't much of a struggle since I was wearing slides
that I jumped out of when I started running, my top came off in one smooth
movement and I pulled my underwear down along with my shorts.  A quick stop
as I jumped out of them and then kept going as I started to get my bra off.
When I saw the lake up ahead I picked up speed.  As I passed Monica I tossed
my bra in her face and said, "Get those chubby legs moving!"

"I do not have chubby legs!" Monica yelled.  I ran into the water and threw
my body below the surface before my body registered how cold it was.  When I
came up I didn't see Monica anywhere and called out her name.  Suddenly I
felt hands on my feet and I was pulled under.  As she rose up past me,
Monica pinched my nipples and stuck her tongue out.

When I broke the surface of the water Monica said, "That was for saying my
legs are chubby."

"You're right.  They're not chubby.  In fact, they're so thin I'm surprised
they're keeping you up right now."

Monica splashed at me.  I splashed back and we chased each other in the
water for a while.  I finally caught up to her and when she turned around we
began to kiss.  Her mouth and tongue felt warm against mine and the chill of
the water lost its effect on me.  Our arms encircled each other and we held
on tight, pressing our bodies together.  At times it was hard keeping the
kiss going since one of us would slow down our kicking and start to sink.
We broke the kiss laughing.

"This looks so much easier in the movies," Monica said.

I smiled.  "I think they're usually closer to shore where you can stand."

Monica gave a wry look and with sarcasm dripping from her voice said, "Wow,
you're smart."

"One of us has to be."

Monica splashed me again as we moved to where we could stand.  As we resumed
the kiss Monica's hands slid down my back and gripped the cheeks of my ass,
giving gentle squeezes and making me moan in her mouth every time she did
it.  I did the same and she started moaning too.  We started out alternating
our moans, and then we began to moan at the same time, which made us laugh.

I said, "We should start our own choir."

Monica threw her head back and laughed.  She was so sexy when she did that.
When Monica laughed it was like she did it with her whole body and soul.  As
she stopped, her head came back to face mine and there was lust in her eyes.

"It's time for a solo performance," Monica said, just before she leaned down
and started licking the skin on my right breast.  Slowly she moved in
towards the areola, rubbing her nose against it at first, teasing me to the
point of begging.  Finally she began licking the nipple, making me gasp.
While she did this, Monica's hands slid over my belly where they moved in
slow little circles, making their way down to my mound.  Her fingers slid
between my legs and started rubbing back and forth as her lips began sucking
hard on my nipple.  I ran one hand along Monica's back as the other ran
through her curly auburn hair, sometimes twirling one of her ringlets on a
finger.  This might have inspired her, because one of Monica's fingers slid
further between my lips until it came to my hole, curled and pressed up
inside of me.  I let out the oddest sound, something that I can best
describe as a stuttered moan with a little bit of gurgle in there for good
measure.  It didn't seem to break Monica's concentration, she moved to the
other nipple and started licking while her finger slowly moved in and out of
me.  The licking turned to sucking and she slowly picked up the pace.  I
spread my legs wider, which brought us both lower into the water.

"As much...as I'm enjoying this," I managed to say, "I think we should take
this to the shore before we drown."

Monica separated her lips from my nipple and looked up at me.  "You've got
no sense of priorities."

We laughed and I chased her out of the water.  When she stopped and turned,
I grabbed her waist and brought us both down on the grass.  There was a
little scrambling around, and some tickling, but when it was over I was
lying on my back and Monica straddled my hips.  Her hands disappeared behind
her and suddenly I felt where they went.

"Now, where was I?" she said.

"Uh, right about there," I groaned.

Monica's fingers slid up and down my lower lips and I let out a few gasps
until she moved up to my clit.  That's when my mouth dropped open and I let
out a sigh.  Her fingers danced and brought me to the edge and back down
again.  The look on Monica's face told me she enjoyed being in control of my
pleasure.  She brought her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes as she
sucked my honey.  Then she leaned down and kissed me, sharing the taste of
her work.  When the kiss ended she held her face in front of mine and looked
deep into my eyes.

"Do you want it?" she said.

I didn't have to ask what she meant.  "Yes."

Monica's fingers touched my face.  "From anyone?"

"I can get it from anyone," I said.  "But it wouldn't feel the same as when
I get it from you."

Monica leaned down and started kissing my neck.  I let out a low moan,
encouraging her.  She licked up and down, causing me to close my eyes and
shudder.  Her tongue moved to my throat and licked up to my chin and back
down again.  I felt kisses moving straight down my chest, past my breasts
and over my belly button, until they stopped just above my mound.  I spread
my legs and gave her access to my most private area, a physical sign of my
trust in her.  Monica's fingers lightly traced the folds of my flower, and
my breathing pattern changed involuntarily.  The moment her tongue touched
my clit I felt a warmth that comforted my very soul.  Monica licked my
button as her fingers continued to play.  I opened my eyes and looked around
at the green of the trees and the blue of the sky.  I felt the breeze on my
body and the grass on my back.  There was life all around me.  Monica slid a
finger inside me and started pumping it slowly, and I felt that spiraling
buildup of pleasure.  I heard birds chirping and felt the warmth of the
setting sun.  Monica added another finger as she began to suck on my clit.
My eyes looked into the sky above and it seemed like I was falling into it.
The speed of Monica's fingers increased as she alternated between licking
and sucking.  I felt the muscles in my legs start to tense up and my back
arched as I let out several loud moans.  Monica struggled to keep her place
as my body moved with the physical sensations that overtook me.  I screamed.
  Suddenly I shut my eyes and closed off the world.  My breathing stopped.
I couldn't hear anything.  I was immersed in pleasure.

I felt pressure on top of me and opened my eyes.  Monica was lying on top of
me.  "Was that special?" she asked.

"More than you'll ever know."

We kissed with passion and need and lust.  My fingers went between her legs
and found her clit.  I started rubbing it and felt Monica moan in my mouth.
Her hand covered my left breast and squeezed.  I kept fingering her clit,
moving up and down lightly.  We kept the kiss going, our tongues alternating
between fierce dueling and slow tenderness.  My finger felt her wetness,
lubricating my action and giving me confidence in my abilities.  I pressed
down on her clit, rubbed some more, tapped it several times, rubbed some
more, and started the whole cycle over again.  I knew she was on the edge
when her body tensed.  I pinched her clit between my fingers and Monica made
a noise.  I couldn't tell if it was pleasure or frustration.  I increased
the speed of my fingers and suddenly Monica's body pressed hard against
mine.  Her mouth came away from the kiss and she let out a loud moan just
before she slumped against me.

As we lay there, spent from our lovemaking, Monica looked over at me and
said, "This is going to be perfect."

I couldn't have agreed with her more.  There was a surprise I had for
Monica, and I'd been waiting for the right moment to spring it on her.
Actually I'd been procrastinating, unsure if it was too soon and too much
all at once.  But up there, in that setting, seemed like a perfect time.


It was around four in the morning when I got back to my building.  Monica
was still on my mind, but it didn't hurt as much as it did when I ran out
hours earlier. The little white pill had done its job.  I would need more of
them, and I had a feeling Renee would give me what I needed.  The only
question was what she wanted in return.

I turned to walk up the front steps of my building when I heard his voice.

"Hello my little homo niglet."

It was Ronald, a Nazi skinhead who lived in the building.  He stood six feet
tall and looked like he could hold his own in a fight.  Ronald was leaning
against the railing on the stairs, which is where he usually spent time when
he wasn't out doing whatever Nazi skinheads do.  Next to him was Tim,
Ronald's short and stocky sidekick.  I kept walking towards the door and
tried to ignore their taunting.

"What?  No smart-assed comeback from the monkey dyke?" Tim said.

"She's not so brave when her girlfriend's not around."  I felt the sorrow
starting to rise from the pit of my stomach when he brought up Monica.

Tim smiled.  "Yeah, where is that cute piece of ass anyway?"

I was just passing in front of Ronald when he gave his response.  "Where she
belongs, six feet under ground."

I stopped and stared at him.  He held my gaze as the corners of his mouth
rose into a smile.  Anger raced past sorrow as I balled up my fist and hit
Ronald in the chest.  His smile dropped and he looked down at where I'd hit
him and put his hand over the spot.  He looked back up at me.  "Ouch."

He started laughing and Tim laughed along with him.  Ronald scared me, but
Tim just made me angry beyond words.  He had this baby face that made me
think about some mother somewhere who loved this guy.  I just turned and
went inside.

I managed to calm myself by the time I got upstairs.  The little white pill
was still having an effect on me, and the rush of emotion during my
confrontation with Ronald seemed to increase it.  I walked into my place and
went straight for the stereo.  At first I was going to put on one of my
CD's, maybe some Portishead or Faithless, but then I looked at the
collection of records I'd inherited from my father.

Soon the funky sounds of Parliament filled the room.  My dad had been a
studio musician, and one of the many things he bestowed on me was an
appreciation for great music.  I became lost in the song, the familiar beats
soothing my muscles and the singing speaking to me like a good friend.  My
body swayed and moved slowly to the sounds of "All Your Goodies Are Gone",
wishing I could live up to the singers' refusal to be blue.  As powerful as
music can be, sometimes things are easier sung than done.

As I started to twirl I noticed the light on the answering machine was
blinking.  I danced over to the machine and dipped myself as my finger hit
the button.  Baked Bob's voice spoke over the music and I went over to the
couch and plopped down.

"Hey Keish.  Listen, I think I gave you some bad advice before.  I really
don't think you should go see that Renee chick, she can be trouble
sometimes.  I don't know what the hell I was thinking sending you to her.  I
mean, you wanted some stuff and I didn't have any...by the way I finally got
to smoke cause Leslie took off.  She told me I was acting weird.  Fucking
woman's insane and she calls me weird, go figure.  Anyway, once I got my
head straight I remembered that I sent you Renee's way, and trust me that
wasn't cool on my part.  Just give me a call and I'll hook you up.  I'm
guessing you want to get your mind off of Monica for a while and that's
cool, I can understand that.  Later."

The very second the message ended, the phone rang.  It scared the shit out
of me and I jumped back.  I was almost afraid to pick it up.  Finally I did.

"Keisha?"

I sighed.  "What is it Andy?  It's late."

"I need to talk to you about before.  I had a vision," he said. "It happened
today, at the funeral, right when you were standing over Monica's coffin.  I
saw you in a hallway, or maybe in a house, walking up some stairs with a
girl who had blonde hair.  I couldn't make out much about her, but I could
tell that you cared about her a lot.  All of a sudden she was shot.  And
then you were kneeling, holding her body and crying, telling her you loved
her."  Andy paused for breath, his words just spilling out of him all at
once.  I sat there stunned at what he had told me.

"Andy...what...what the fuck?"

He paused for a moment and said, "I think what happened with Monica...it's
going to happen to you again."

I slammed the phone down.  Suddenly I wasn't so relaxed anymore.  I got up
and started pacing, which is what I do when I get nervous.  My eyes caught
the picture of Monica and me at the cabin.  I felt pressure in my chest,
almost like the sorrow in my heart was going to crush my insides.  The
thought of going through all this again was unbearable.

That went on for about ten minutes.  But then I stopped and looked at the
picture of my dad, which reminded me of what I believed -- that our destinies
are not so predetermined that someone else can predict them.  I sat down and
my nerves eased up, my mind calmed down and my body started to relax again.
No, Andy was wrong.  Maybe he gets visions, maybe he can see one possible
future, but that doesn't mean it's definitely what's going to happen.  Fuck
that.  And fuck Andy too.  I'm sure his powers are not as sharp as he makes
them out to be.

With that thought I looked at the answering machine and realized something.
Bob wanted to talk to me really bad, but all he could do was leave a
message, because he didn't know what time I'd be home.  Yet it was four in
the morning, and Andy just happened to call five minutes after I walked
through the door?

Fuck.


Coming next in Part 2- Baked Bob to the rescue! (You can shake your head
now)

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