Path: newsspool1.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newsswing.news.prodigy.com!prodigy.net!newsfeed.cwix.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.monger.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: From: "Richard Schultz" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: New FFF story: "The Apple Orchard" 1/1 (Uber VOY: Uber J/7/T)NC-17 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Lines: 1344 Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 03:55:10 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: monger.newsread.com 1104206110 209.198.142.218 (Mon, 27 Dec 2004 22:55:10 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 22:55:10 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86390 X-Received-Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 19:55:31 PST (newsspool1.news.atl.earthlink.net) NEW FFF:"The Apple Orchard" 1/1(VOY: J/f)NC-17 "The Apple Orchard" by R.Schultz ( cousindream@msn.com ) Part 1/1 Series: Not hardly VOYAGER Code: Not quite B'Elanna or Kathryn & unknown Pairing: F/F Rating: This fiction is NC-17. Spoilers: None.=20=20 Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with Trek, actually. Excepting=20 Belle Anna bears a lot of resemblance to Roxann Dawson (aka B'Elanna=20 Torres), and Kathryn looks like Captain Janeway. Surprise,=20 surprise! This fiction mine under Berne International law. August,=20 2004. Apx. 9,300 words long. Summary: The Lee-Custis-Arlington Mansion is an historical site, the=20 of the Night Series. No one underage according to USA or local law=20 may enter here, nor may those whose country or locale legally=20 declares any kinky fiction something it believes you shouldn't=20 read. Your government is only trying to make sure your mind is=20 unused, your brain is washed, and you are prone to electoral=20 stupidity. All for your own good. Republicans are altruists, even=20 if they can't spell the word. They'll tell you so when they're not busy stealing your money.=20=20 Consider this a Free Speech Zone without the razor wire. Posted to=20 the FemmeFuhqFest group, and will later be posted to the ASCEM. May=20 be archived, but please notify. Comments to: cousindream@msn.com THE APPLE ORCHARD by R.Schultz "Even with hundreds of slaves, the grounds never looked so=20 manicured, you know." She was smiling at me, underneath her sunglasses and straw hat. The=20 brunette stranger was pretty, with bangs and straight hair, and an=20 engaging smile. Direct, and unwavering. For some reason I'd=20 expected whatever unknown might speak to me would be another old=20 wrinkled female tourist. In this case, however, she was young with=20 a cute nose, and was smaller than me. Probably wears petites, I=20 noted in an automatic envy. But she was not an old biddy, talking=20 to people unasked in a desperate attempt to communicate. In my=20 estimation, old people rarely enjoyed their golden years. Though=20 perhaps Running Lick was a little harder on people than most places. I smiled automatically, not particularly wishing to chat up some=20 stranger, now that I'd made the trip all the way out here. This was history, where I was, and I wanted to think my own thoughts=20 for a few moments. Battlefields didn't hold any especial magic for=20 me, but still some places drew me. Luray caverns, Williamsburg,=20 Dayton Air museum, and Arlington. Besides, Arlington Mansion was=20 another one of the few historical sites close enough for me to=20 visit. It was practically written into the Constitution that=20 Librarians visited places like this. Instead I got another unwished comment. All day long at work I was=20 utter placidity itself. All day long I had to listen to the same=20 questions and the same confusions. "The Lee's left their home in somewhat of a hurry, of course.=20=20 Robert E. Lee himself believed his proximity to the Capitol would=20 find his plantation quickly occupied and ravaged." Her glance went back and up, towards the top of the magnificent=20 building. "Lee had a yellow cat, or at least his daughter did. The General=20 himself was quite enthusiastic about horses, but he tolerated cats.=20=20 Kittens a little bit more than cats. His wife Mildred kept a few=20 cats of her own. Baxter, and Tom The Nipper, if I recall. Lee's=20 daughter had the one of her own. It was yellow, orange rather, with=20 darker stripes. Like all cats back then, it had a touch of feral to=20 it, and usually spent long intervals outdoors hunting, and such.=20=20 Tom Tita was its name. "The cat got left behind, by accident, up in the attic. A monstrous=20 space the attic was, and still is, and Tom lived well enough on mice=20 he caught and rain water in a few leaks. "General Montgomery C. Meigs was already the local Union Commanding=20 General when Mildred's cousin, Markie Williams, came by to salvage a=20 few things and ship them to the Lee's. This was during the last=20 months of `61, when everyone was finally realizing they were really=20 at war. "No," she corrected herself. "It was very early in 1862. There was=20 snow on the ground, but it was mushy, and you could see all those=20 bodies there. Off to the left. "In the apple orchard." There was no apple trees there now, but as the whole place was=20 presently a national cemetery, there might have been. But bodies? If I was going to get a monologue from some flighty tourist, at=20 least this one seemed to know something of the place, and its=20 history. Something made me think she was remembering, and that=20 thought sent chills up my spine. "They weren't the big sort of apples we're accustomed to finding in=20 our supermarkets. A good lot of them were small and just a little=20 bit sour. Italian apples they were, though they cooked up just fine=20 in crumble pies and sauces. "They were planted by the original owner of the plantation, Tom=20 Custis. Maybe it was the only kind he could find at the time. It=20 isn't like today when you can shop around. "Later on he planted other, more customary sweet apples." She looked at me, and I realized she had a really nice smile. Lots=20 of money in those teeth, I thought. The Library where I worked,=20 those coal miner's kids didn't have teeth like that. "Your husband around somewhere?" she asked. I stared down at the small gold band, and for the first time in=20 years felt stupid for keeping it and wearing it years after my=20 divorce. It established my place in the town. Not an old maid,=20 but ... "I'm divorced," I said in a rush. "I don't know why I still wear=20 it." She nodded. "Keeps a lot of men from botherin' you, doesn't it?" I wasn't ready for that much insight so quickly and glared at her=20 for it. "I'm Belle," she held out a hand. More than a trace of magnolia in=20 the voice, and I had visions of a pampered life, somewhere in the=20 cotton belt. As I shook her hand I also had a sudden vision of Tara=20 in "Gone With The Wind". Elegant clothes with a dozen slips and=20 crinolines and petticoats flouncing out the skirt of something=20 taffeta.=20=20 "Belle Anna. And yourself?" "Sam." I was suddenly embarrassed at using the nickname. My name=20 was Samantha. Sam was so ... masculine. "Samantha," I continued. "Samantha Lindsay." "You live round here?" Meaning the south of here. All that rural- mindset ultra-conservative Virginia that called the D.C. suburbia=20 nothing but Yankee-land. She held out her hand, and I was surprised to find her a strong=20 hand. Nothing weak about it. She was staring at me, appraising me. Like a man might. Suddenly I=20 felt a warm flush and a wild hope making me uncertain and reluctant=20 to let go her hand. Was she not just another straight-laced female=20 with her eyes on men? "Let's go on down to the apple orchard, shall we?" We took the long imposing concrete steps down to the lower level,=20 and she smiled at me to follow her in a veer to the left. The=20 gravestones were old ones, here. Belle Anna dipped her head to read=20 the stones, calling out the names and regiments in her clear voice.=20=20 I studied her face in profile, and flushed again when she caught me=20 looking. Cat ate the canary, I thought of when she smiled again. "These are all officers here, now," Belle Anna explained. "But when=20 they decided to make a cemetery out of Lee's plantation, they did so=20 as to deprive Lee forever after of regaining his great land. That=20 winter of '61 =96 '62, they brought the enlisted dead here, and=20 scratched out a bit of a place to lay them down. Very often still=20 holding on to the weapons they died with. Still holding on to them,=20 as if they would need their weapons where they went next." She caressed a few of the stones as we wandered. There were=20 ornamental trees here now, not a single apple tree to be seen. "There were not many dead to bury, that first winter along the banks=20 of the Potomac. So they were able to dig up the enlisted men the=20 next year, and replaced the enlisted men with fallen officers. They=20 felt officers should have pride of place, next to the mansion." She smiled faintly. "What a conceit! As if the dead cared." It was cooler here, underneath the ornamental trees in the manicured=20 landscape. A perceptible breeze blew up from the Potomac, riffling=20 our hair and relieving us in the heat of day. It was impossible now=20 to see the eternal flame and the blackened bronze and stone of the=20 Kennedy Memorial Monument. "The poor husks were poorly buried, here, that first winter. They=20 used Union soldiers, cavalrymen as a matter of fact, and they both=20 resented the gruesome work, and felt they should have used=20 infantry. The results were shallow graves, picked out of the hard=20 soil of an early Virginia winter." A twinge of emotion layered her voice, as she caressed yet another=20 old gray tombstone. She looked very vulnerable and hurt in the=20 summer breeze. "Come March, and the thaws and new snow had revealed most of the=20 pitiful men. They looked very cold and abandoned, there, lying on=20 their sides in the snow, their rifles still in their blue hands. "Markie Williams noted the melancholy scene, for when she came down=20 with Tom Tita, the orange cat, it clawed her and ran away down the=20 hill into the graveyard. She chased after it, but it stayed just a=20 step away, wandering amongst the dead. "Three of the Union officers volunteered their services, but were=20 unable to corner the wayward pet." Belle Anna pointed to a spot behind us then. "Markie came thus far and no further, unable to bring herself to=20 wander amongst the exposed dead. She called on me to call it back,=20 but I argued that it felt drawn to this place, and no other." A sly smile then, quite unexpected. "She was most put out at me for my refusal, and scolded me=20 intermittently all the way back to the Rapidian bridge. I knew=20 where the cat belonged, however, and held to my guns." I did not know how to take her way of speaking now, clearly as if=20 she remembered, rather than speculated. "The last I ever saw of the cat it was gently batting a young long- haired blond man with his small billed cap still on. Tom Tita was=20 licking his frigid face as if to wake him. He still had a slip of=20 paper with his name fastened to his jacket sleeve. Like most of the=20 buried, he looked quite serene and quiet, lying there in the wet=20 melting snow." Suddenly she laid a hand on my elbow, urging me back towards the Lee=20 Mansion. "General Meigs used the hordes of Contrabands, the escaped darkie=20 slaves, for labor next time the dead were buried. Meigs was also a=20 bit of a snob and prig, and began the practice of interring officers=20 closest to the Lee Mansion. The poor enlisted men first buried were=20 laid to final rest there, to the south and east. They were buried=20 proper this time. Deep into the rich soil of Virginia, and with=20 proper gravestones this time. "I am tired now, it has been for me a long day. Samantha." She placed her small hand in the crook of my arm as if I were a tall=20 gentleman about to escort her to the Governor's Ball. "Won't you come home with me? I live to the west of here, in the=20 hills, and would welcome some congenial company. Would you like=20 supper with me?" "I thank you," I managed. "But we hardly know each other." In my=20 own mind I was feeling the warmth of her hand, the pressure of her=20 hip, the scent (no doubt expensive) that clung to her hair. In my=20 own mind I was finally beginning to hope that this stranger was=20 being so forward for a reason. A good reason, as such goes. "Then if you accept my hospitality, we shall begin to know each=20 other much better." She was putting the moves on me. I felt my face flush. My thoughts=20 must have showed on my face or in my small trembling, for she=20 reached up and touched my cheek with the back of her hand. "You're a very handsome woman, Sam. "I'll bet you have women hanging from the chandeliers." "There are no chandeliers in Running Lick, West Virginia," I=20 answered. Belle Anna was lightly kissing the long sleeve of my now- sweaty blouse. "My car's in the lot," I replied. Meaning one of the general=20 parking lots the busses ran to and from. "Mine is behind the mansion," Belle Anna said. A mint cream Lincoln Continental was just where she said it would=20 be. There was a very small lot there, on the easy back slope, which=20 could hold maybe two dozen cars, or less. You had to have the proper permits and passes to park here. This=20 was where VIP's usually parked. A small auburn-haired older woman, whose long lovely waves of hair=20 were covering the collar of her dark chauffeur's suit, was standing=20 alongside the Lincoln. She smiled and put on her dark charcoal=20 chauffeur's cap as we approached. "We have a guest for dinner," Belle Anna introduced me. The older=20 woman's name was Kathryn, and she startled me by bowing, bringing my=20 free hand to her lips and sweeping it up to where her suddenly bare- headed visage kissed my knuckles. "Charmed," she said, then added something in what I think was=20 French. I blushed again. I was also more confident that my wildest=20 surmises were become a reality. For Belle opened the side door for=20 me, her hand lovingly caressing my butt. In the event, after I retrieved my Detroit iron, I sat up front with=20 Belle Anna. My new =96 friend =96 drove the Lincoln, and Kathryn=20 followed us in my old Pontiac gunboat. Waiting at a light, Belle=20 Anna brought my hand up and also kissed my knuckles. I took the initiative after that and was soon energetically=20 showering caresses and kisses and tongue-lashings on this exciting=20 little brunette. She was wearing panties, but Belle Anna stopped the car in order to=20 skin out of them. She threw them in the back seat, and let me=20 discover her dripping body. We had to stop again so I could finish bringing her off with my=20 fingers. I glanced back as Belle Anna came, wailing. Kathryn was=20 parked behind us, and gave me a salute. After that Belle Anna giggled and slapped my hand if I got too=20 forward. We had to make it to her place first. It was quite a place to the eyes of a dumb hillbilly librarian. It was in the Blue Ridge hills, and it fairly shouted Hideaway.=20=20 There was a For Sale sign at the side-road junction. A mansion it might not have been, but it was large enough. Red=20 brick, lavish cozy rather than ostentatious, maybe three bedrooms. It was set back from a short blacktop county road that had all the=20 appearance of being lightly used, if at all. We quickly pulled into=20 a gravel driveway, and wandered around to the back of the house. My=20 estimates of its size scaled upwards, and I thought five bedrooms,=20 or whatever they use to describe a place on the short edge of=20 becoming a mansion. A sloped glass cupola surmounted a castle-keep- like projection. I immediately thought of a library, but my most=20 basic love was for information and books, and I kept hoping to find=20 someone else who had the same outr=E9 tastes. A four-car garage was=20 adjacent to the place, and an outbuilding was present, with the=20 appearance of a cottage. I immediately thought of the chauffeur, and other staff. No one had servants, these days. There was no pool, but a dark stone wall appeared in back,=20 underneath a number of unknown shade trees. Class. Money. Maybe the cupola was a library after all. Hope=20 springs eternal. As Belle Anna wriggled out of the driver's side of the car, she was=20 already stripping off her dress and slip. "It's okay," she told me. "No one here, but us girls." In seconds she was jaybird naked and sprinting across a big lawn. I=20 was duly impressed. By her sense of joy, and Belle Anna's=20 delightful breasts moving with her body, and how close I already was=20 to coming. The sprinkling system cut in as she frolicked au=20 naturel. She squealed, and danced. Finally standing in the falling=20 water and beckoning me to join her. What the heck. I had my shoes and blouse off by the time Kathryn had navigated my=20 Pontiac into the garage. It looked out of place with the Lincoln on=20 one side and a salt-box top white-and-blue Thunderbird on the other. The older woman leaned back against the hood and gave me a wolf=20 whistle by the time I was down to my dainties. Evidently I was truly amongst friends. Dykes, at least. The water felt wonderful, at first. Then I was too damned cold and=20 Belle Anna was leading me into the house by the hand. I'd just seen the new "Stepford Wives" with Katherine Ross, the week=20 before, and her big movie kitchen looked much like the one I stepped=20 into. Shining pans and utensils, big wooden chopping table, copper- looking wall stove, all the signs of gracious ostentation and gaudy=20 utilitarianism. Watching the film I had pictured every suburban=20 housewife in America having a spontaneous orgasm, just from being=20 surrounded by a picture-perfect kitchen like that. A short-haired woman with raven hair was working at chopping veggies=20 as we scampered through this magic domain. "Susan Nicoletti," Belle Anna said in the way of an=20 introduction. "Her food is to die for, or at least to drool for.=20=20 Which tonight is ... ?" "Risi e bisi," she said. "Rice and green pea soup, and chicken=20 Mantua. I got some brownies over there, if you need a snack later.=20=20 And a pastry made with artichoke hearts. Last nights cold shrimp=20 cocktail is in the ice box." When was the last time I heard someone use the term ice box for a=20 refrigerator? With that we were past and into a short corridor which debouched=20 into a flight of stairs. We didn't get upstairs to the bedroom for half an hour. I'd never made love on a flight of carpeted stairs before. I thought I was in heaven. ---------------------------- By midnight I was sure of it. I was lying back on a white polar bear rug, alongside a cold=20 fireplace, and admiring the books surrounding me. That's the sort=20 of seductive atmosphere a Librarian dreams of. Being thrown down in=20 the middle of forty thousand books and getting her brains fucked out=20 while she inhales the scent of ancient first editions. The glass=20 cupola above me was dark with the night, and I felt at home=20 already. The entire Library felt like a place where people lived,=20 rather than a mere collection of books. No fire in the fireplace,=20 but it was summer, after all. And I was sweaty as hell. What I'd been doing for the past few hours would be enough to make=20 anyone sweat. Even just watching. To make up for the loss of a=20 roaring log fire, I was sipping on a big wide-bottomed snifter glass=20 which had a finger or two of what was probably pricey French brandy=20 in it. The fumes themselves were probably enough to make my head=20 spin. There was an audience, as well. Sort of. Kathryn and Susan=20 Nicoletti were busily engaged on the couch on the moment, with a big=20 lanky gal named Yar. She had hair cut in a man's buzz cut, and wide=20 slavic cheekbones. She looked about as femme as Johnny Unitas. I'd been aware for years of the butch-femme divide, but had always=20 been a little uncomfortable being either one. With the rarity of my=20 sexual encounters, it was rather immaterial. Though, after all, I'd=20 come to D.C. primarily in the hope I might find someone to spend a=20 night or two with. Quite possibly that had already occurred. And without once having=20 to step into a gay bar. Kathryn was growling something in an unknown language, and Belle=20 Anna raised her head from my belly to listen. "It's Gael she's speaking," Belle Anna said. She then dipped her=20 tongue into my belly button, prompting a fit of giggles. "She's actually kissed the blarney stone, you know. It shows at=20 moment like this. "She's praising Natasha's strong long tongue and how deeply it=20 wriggles inside her, and how much like harvested barley her short- cut hair looks like in this light. Her ears are petals on a flower,=20 her fingers are moonbeams come to earth and livid with fire ... " "You're joking," I whispered in some envy. "No one talks like that,=20 not even a poet." "Kathryn does," Belle Anna replied. "She can be passion and love=20 itself when she speaks." "Is that why you two became lovers?" Feeling a tinge of jealousy=20 and regret. All this glory and lust just miles away from my home=20 town. A day's easy drive from grandmother and mother and uncles and=20 aunts and nephews and Fourth of July parades and self-absorbed=20 teenagers searching for minimalist answers to high school lessons. Could I go back to that comfortable lie? Must I? "How did you know I was gay?" I asked Belle Anna. "I didn't." My eyes must have gotten big in surprise. "You looked like someone I'd like to throw on my big polar bear rug." "If I'd been straight?" "I'd have seduced you. "Don't goggle so. I've seduced more than one straight girl in my=20 time. Housewives, usually. Because of the laws, I avoid teenagers,=20 but most any other woman is literally dying for a little adventure. "Plus, if she succumbs to my evil blandishments, I can show a gal a=20 good time. Take her to a good restaurant or two, and give her cut=20 roses and chocolates. Champagne, maybe an expensive dress;=20 chauffeured cars, Broadway plays, fly to London or Paris for the=20 weekend. "Money is a means. I'm glad I've got some, but I don't worship it. "And besides, I like to curl up with a good book once in a while." "So do I. I'm a Librarian," I reminded her. "During one of my=20 better moments in the past few hours I was realizing how erotic it=20 felt to be making love in the middle of this lovely collection of=20 books. I love books ... and this ..." Waving my hand vaguely=20 around me. "Have you read much of it?" I asked, wondering if she'd bought these=20 in a job lot somewhere. I could visualize some agent traveling near=20 and far and buying books. Books which were never read, but=20 nonetheless lovingly collected. Like a large house, a large private library is also showing off. Belle Anna rose, with a mere glance towards where Kathryn was=20 wailing as Yar and Susan drove her over the top. Belle Anna had=20 such a delightful ass on her, I noticed again. So soft and little=20 and perfect and quivering as she moved. I had a skinny hillbillies=20 ass, and felt the odd duck amongst the women in this room. All=20 these beautiful women. It's nice to have money, obviously. I was cooling off rapidly, now. The controlled dryness and=20 temperature protecting the books raising a few goosebumps on me.=20=20 Belle Anna plopped back, reverently presenting me with a small dark- bound book. "An autographed first of `Dracula'," she proudly noted. "I have=20 firsts of every one of Bram's bound books and collections in which=20 he appeared, under whatever title. Most are autographed. "After Sir Irving died and he was let go, Bram tried frantically to=20 stay financially afloat." Regret in her voice. "I'd gone to New York to arrange rites for a friend of mine, one of=20 those who perished on board the TITANIC. Her body was recovered,=20 but not many were. "While I was in America, Bram drove himself to exhaustion trying to=20 pay of his little debts. "My agent in the City at the time was let go with prejudice for=20 failing to aid Stoker when a few judicious guineas might have done=20 much good for the poor plump Irishman. He had been given orders to=20 keep track of Bram, and that he had done. He had also stood by and=20 allowed the author to work himself to death without lifting the=20 smallest finger. "His callous behavior upset me greatly. "Susan had already arranged a skilled Venetian vendettaist to punish=20 the Agent, but the stingy fool was permitted his life, upon my=20 express orders." She talked as if she'd met Stoker. As if she'd been in the same era=20 as the TITANIC. Belle Anna chuckled to see my face. "Allow me my quirks," she asked. "Is it not true that most people=20 of money are a bit eccentric?" Okay. Eccentric I could buy into. Speaking of eccentric, I felt another pair of hands on my scrawny=20 rear, and turned to find Kathryn caressing me. "Belle, sweetheart?" the little redhead asked, "do you mind if I=20 welcome our new guest in my own fashion? She's cute, and has such=20 lovely nipples, and you know how I love to suck on nice nipples like=20 that." Cute. It felt luxurious to be called cute. Beautiful I'd never be=20 or been, but it made me to tingle to be called cute. "Do you mind being chewed on?" she asked me. "Just enough to make=20 it fun, not hurt." I loved her breasts rubbing on my rear end. Belle Anna nodded her head at me, adding; "You don't need my=20 permission, darling Sam." Belle Anna knelt, patting the Polar Bear Rug. "We should probably get it dry cleaned after this night anyways, so=20 we might as well make sure it absolutely reeks of sex." In a few minutes Belle Anna let me coax her into sitting on my happy=20 face. Kathryn never missed a lick. I'd never had a threesome=20 before. Afterwards Susan and Natasha came on over to kibbitz the show.=20=20 Natasha put on a large long red dildo in a top-notch red leather=20 strap-on. I'd never had a red dildo before. I guess it was also my first=20 fivesome. =20 ----------------------------------- Some time in the wee hours, this big brown-haired hillbilly was=20 bundled into a blanket, and I was transported up the stairs and into=20 a bed. Too many brandies was the consensus of others. I felt I was=20 quite able to move under my own volition, but it was incredibly=20 satisfying to be babied and treated like I was fragile and prone to=20 weariness. Fortunately they did two things once they rolled me into=20 bed. The first was leave a light on in the bathroom so I could find it=20 later on without committing suicide. The second was a guardian angel who snuggled into bed with me.=20=20 Shouldn't want me to wake up in a strange bed and die of the=20 vapors. Or of horniness. The sun was already up and creating patterns on the polished wooden=20 floor when I next forced my eyes open. Good French brandy it might have been, but my mouth felt as full of=20 macadam black-top as if I'd been drinking Uncle Elmo's best shine.=20=20 Sam, I complained to myself; "You can't handle likker, Sam, and you=20 know it. Asshole." The sun was too bright, and the birds were obviously building a new=20 interstate cloverleaf out in the tree outside my window, to judge by=20 the outlandish ruckus they were raising. A hand and a pair of lips (with tongue tip) was exploring my ass=20 cheek and hip and then fingers were trailing down my belly to my=20 pubic hair. That was what woke me up. Instead of Belle Anna, the hand belonged to Kathryn. Mind you, it felt nice being awakened this way, and I enjoyed=20 Kathryn's presence in my bed. Her bed? But I had sort of assumed=20 Belle Anna had claimed me. Reading my mind, Kathryn had whispered that Belle Anna had left, and=20 left me in Kathryn's tender hands. Very tender they were, even if they were in constant motion. Or=20 caress, to put it more accurately. Kathryn explained I'd been left, as in Belle Anna probably being=20 somewhere high in the stratosphere on her way to San Francisco at=20 this very moment. Business, Kathryn said, and all was explained.=20=20 Yar had gone with her, as her secretary and confidant. Maybe Belle Anna had done more than just inherit some money.=20=20 Evidently she was one of that rare breed of executive career woman,=20 and Yar as well. Susan Nicoletti was driving her way to Raleigh, again with the magic=20 word `Business' attached as explanation. Susan was not the cook,=20 but a friend and house guest who liked to cook. And I was going to=20 have to subsist on whatever was left in the fridge, and Kathryn=20 could fix. Later. Kathryn had other fish to fry first, in a manner of speaking. That lovely Irish tongue went back to work on my hip and side and=20 arm. For all the year since my last vacation I had missed the feel=20 of a woman's hands on my body, and her kisses. I missed the=20 completeness of having someone else sharing my bed and naked body. I'd only scratched the surface of my built-up need last night. This=20 felt much more satisfying than a weekend of groping and sex. I felt=20 myself amongst friends. There's a difference. God, but I missed sex and romance and being near a woman. For the=20 first time in years I was contemplating abandoning family and=20 friends and living openly as a lesbian. I could get to like it=20 here. But I would have to be offered this life. I wasn't the sort=20 to just move in and hope I could talk my way into being allowed to=20 stay. I also really didn't want to say I had a headache, even if I did=20 happen to have one. "You a little hung over?" Kathryn asked. Girl reads minds. Girl. She's ... what? Five years older than me? Six? That felt good to me, I suddenly realized. Someone my own age. It=20 made me feel ... compatible. As if romance were possible between=20 us. I wanted ... something more from life. Kathryn snuggled tightly against me, her velvety female flesh making=20 serious inroads on my composure. I really enjoyed feeling breasts=20 and nipples and a woman's body heat behind me. "Then we'll just lie here and listen to time going by and we'll nap=20 and laze and do nothing. Except do you know how nice your butt=20 feels against my belly?" I was aware. It felt enormously wonderful to have a loving woman's=20 hand on my hip as I drifted back into sleep. Hours later, I had to go, and Kathryn followed suit. It was hotter,=20 and I was a little stinky, but my almost-hangover seemed to have=20 diminished. The little redhead coerced/convinced/tickled me into getting up as=20 in staying up. She had a robe I could wear, and it was a little big for me. Hers=20 was so short it barely covered her ass. The large black man in the kitchen was greeted with squeals of=20 appreciation by Kathryn. I hung back a little, but Kathryn whirled=20 back to me and yanked me closer. "This is Iago," Kathryn introduced. "Iago Tuvok. He's a Moor from=20 Venice. Not Othello. Iago." They both laughed at my face. "God, but I love intelligent women!" Kathryn proclaimed. "You can=20 explain something like this to most Americans and it all sails right=20 over their heads. "Iago, this is Samantha. She's a Librarian, and she's ready to=20 marry me just so she inherits my library." After shaking hands, Iago returned to the Captain's chair he'd risen=20 from, and went back to nursing his Stroh's beer from the bottle.=20=20 There seemed a haughty air to him, though far from typical American=20 arrogance or black suspicion. "This your new lady, dear?" Kathryn put on a puss-in-boots leer and said maybe. "Iago and I were married once, a long time ago," Kathryn meowed. "Centuries ago," he informed me. "In Europe. I am Italian, or more=20 properly a Venetian. Born in the Republica Sereniessma itself.=20=20 Lived off in the side facing the Jesolo, by the Arsenal. "Kathryn was wandering through, and she took a fancy to me." "He seduced me," Kathryn explained. "I was just another innocent=20 Cassae Veeche girl debauched in his lustful bower and thrown away=20 like any canaler or Arsenalotti's daughter." "And now, in order to make ends meet, I tend to the gardens here,"=20 Iago explained. "Like Casanova when the di Notta threw him in the=20 Doge's dungeons, I am bereft and forlorn. Fallen upon hard times=20 and barely one step away from a debtor's prison." His accent, or more properly his cadences, certainly seemed far from=20 that found in America's black community. I didn't know what to think, either, about his claim to having once=20 been Kathryn's husband. Well, I'd been married to a man once myself. Kathryn picked up on some of my wonderment, for she sidled next to=20 me and cuddled against me. She kissed my bare arm and hooked her=20 hand around my waist. I looked down at her and saw a little worry=20 there. This was the woman I'd had fondling my ass not ten minutes=20 ago. Doing a good job of fondling, too, I had to admit. "He's my friend," she added. Meaning only my friend. "He visits, and he is always welcome. He also does some minor=20 upkeep around the place as a favor to me. We pay him with a smile=20 and a beer, and he tells us how things are in Pittsburgh." An hour later, we'd all finished a few flapjacks and link sausage=20 Kathryn organized for us, and I was feeling much more at ease with=20 this strange tall male black. I was still visualizing a naked=20 Kathryn writhing underneath that hard lean body, crying in passion,=20 but I was getting over it. I was never in any doubt that Kathryn=20 had enjoyed sex with Iago Tuvok. I couldn't have said why, except=20 for the easy way they were against each other. Frequent interchanges in Italian between the two helped quite a=20 lot. He stopped being a male and black and became Italian.=20=20 I caught him talking with his hands more than once, and indicating=20 someone was crazy by putting his finger against the side of his=20 nose, or tossing his head in punctuation. Very Italian. I even=20 enjoyed it when he pinched my bottom at one point. Italian men did=20 that, I knew. He was otherwise polite, and his pinch was abruptly=20 cut off once he realized I was not an Italian woman myself. Maybe. Kathryn slapped his hand and said things to him in a rapid-fire=20 Italian which I think were not complimentary. After which she=20 hugged me to her with some considerable strength, making a point=20 about whose woman I was. I fit her hand on my hip and snuggled into=20 my little redhead's arms. My. Little redhead's arms. My. There was more of a sense of possessiveness to me than I had=20 realized. Gotta watch that. Jealousy is next. If Iago could frequently see more of Kathryn's charms than should be=20 so visible in the middle of the day (certainly more than was proper=20 in most American homes), I consoled myself that it wasn't anything=20 he hadn't seen before. Al of it went on prominent and flagrant display once Kathryn had=20 finally turned on the house air-conditioning. She slipped out of=20 her robe, caught my hand and proudly proclaimed that Iago could look=20 after himself, and she was going to take a shower. Kathryn looked=20 good enough to eat, which I presume was one of the points of the=20 robe-abandoning exercise. A nude redhead asking if I wanted to join her in the shower was not=20 to be denied. I was giggling by the time we were upstairs. I was also nude and=20 playing grab-ass with a redhead with a cute little butt to her. It=20 wasn't my fault. Anyone who would wriggle an ass like that in front=20 of a dyke deserves all the groping she gets. All of her felt=20 marvelous. Once again I realized how much I missed the presence and=20 feel of a woman in my life. Once more I wondered if I could dare to=20 be openly gay in a place like Running Lick. All thoughts of tomorrow raced away once I'd followed Kathryn into=20 the shower. Mind you, I've had sex in a shower before, and usually enjoyed=20 myself. Even with my husband a few times. All that warm gushing=20 water and slippery soap lather and sliding all over someone else is=20 incredibly erotic. Getting covered with oil is wonderful, too, but=20 the sheets get messy like you wouldn't believe. And clammy, once=20 things cool off. Showers and a slick body intent on rubbing itself=20 all over your tingling skin is better. As a plus, I couldn't see=20 the shower suddenly running out of hot water in a fancy place like=20 this. I recalled there'd been this plump girl from Treasury, in White=20 Springs, Maryland, she and I had been enjoying a shower together.=20=20 Then the hot water suddenly went. Put a chill on things. This shower had room for a Basketball team, also. There were two ledges where you could park yourself down, and=20 indulge yourself with one of three hand-held hose connections. Kathryn, evidently long accustomed to the benefits of this shower,=20 sat me down and played with me with her thumb and a hard stream of=20 hot water gushing straight on my sex. It was one of the fastest comes I'd ever had. After that we shared one of the ledges, water showering on us, and=20 leisurely masturbated each other. Luxury. Sometime before our skin acquired the appearance of something=20 floating in Chesapeake Bay for the past five days, we acquired a=20 desire to return to bed. I felt like I'd stepped into Thule, Greenland, in January, after=20 that hot shower. The air-conditioning was ... energetic. So this was what the Finns loved to do. Get hot in a sauna and then=20 jump into a snowbank and beat each other with branches. Barbarians. We burrowed into the blankets after trying to rub some heat back=20 into our bodies with towels. It got very warm under those blankets=20 very quickly. Kathryn soon had my nipples in her mouth and a finger where it did=20 the most good. There was no more time, not for us. I spread Kathryn again and again, over the next few days, and=20 relished the taste of woman. She had me, groaning and scratching,=20 time and again. But there was no hurry, no need to watch a clock,=20 no place we had to be. Our only task was to enjoy each other. Sleep. Occasionally eat and=20 drink and other things. Then to tumble back into bed again, and=20 taste each other and enjoy each other. The best thing was being without a schedule. But even so I knew my=20 fool's holiday would be ending some day. My neck got horribly scratched during one of our sessions, and I=20 didn't realize it until the morning when I found the pillows had big=20 splotches of blood on them. Passionate Irish lass. Wore me out. I was exhausted for days. She=20 concentrated on building me up after that. Lots of vitamins and a=20 balanced high-iron diet. Sweet woman. Kathryn could play the lute. She sang for me. "When the women all heard that King Brady was dead, "They went back to home and they all dressed in red. "They come aslippin' and slidin' up and down the street "In their old Mother Hubbards and their stocking feet "Brady, brady, don't you know you done wrong? "You bust into my barroom when the game was on four "You sprung my new latch and bust down my wood door "You hit me and forced me and laughed at my cries "Your cut my barnes throats and told me drunk lies "Brady, Brady, don't you know you done wrong?" Her singing was not very good, but I was utterly entranced. How many women could say they'd been courted by a lute-player? Courting it was. One afternoon we were sprawled across the bed, Kathryn asked me if=20 I'd like to stay with her? As in? Forever. I confessed I had been working up my courage to ask her if she would=20 be MY wife. Mate. Lover. We both squealed loudly at realizing we=20 had been thinking along the same lines. After ten or so minutes of spirited babbling and kissing and=20 declaring perpetual undying love and oozing all over each other, I=20 sat up and began planning out loud. "You've got your job here, and there are some fantastic fringe=20 benefits, of course. And I'm a Librarian, and there shouldn't be=20 any difficulty in find a job somewhere in the area. They pay=20 starvation wages for Librarians, but with your job and my job we=20 could set up housekeeping with our own place. I'd like my own=20 place." Looking sideways at Kathryn as I said that. Seeing how she'd feel=20 about moving into our own place. It needn't be very big. We=20 wouldn't be liable to have very many children, after all. Maybe get a water bed. I've been on one, a few years back. "Why move?" she asked. "So we won't have to be dependent on Belle Anna's good will to have=20 a roof over our head. There's a lot to be said for having your own=20 place, wonderful as this place is." Kathryn shook her head, smiling. "Sam, sweet, dear one ... I own this big house." She waved her beautiful hands around, indicating the entire building. "I'm Belle Anna's step-mother." "That's incest," I blurted. Then felt like an utter fool. First=20 off, I was no stranger to real incest, not up in those hills.=20=20 Secondly, a theologian might argue the incest part as Belle Anna and=20 Kathryn weren't blood kin. "Who owns the Library?" I asked. Trust me to worry about the=20 important things. "We sort of own all the books together," Kathryn opinioned. "A=20 trust thing, I guess you'd call it, for the entire family.=20=20 Everybody has contributed, over the years. "Even Iago. Did you know the big folio of sketches by David is=20 his? The folio with thirteen Degas cartoons and sketches are his as=20 well. "If you wanted all a place of your own, Belle Anna could immediately=20 move out of here to Susan's place in Georgetown." "You aren't the chauffeur?" I asked. "Only if I feel like it," Kathryn explained. Susan was not a cook. Yar was not a secretary. Belle Anna was not=20 the mistress of this house. Kathryn was not the chauffeur. This could be my place. We immediately went downstairs and Kathryn made immense oodles of=20 long langruous love to me on the Polar Bear rug. To put it more=20 accurately she fucked my brains out. Then I fucked her brains out.=20=20 Turn-about's fair. We really WERE going to have to get the rug dry-cleaned by an expert=20 in furs. I ran my fingers through the reeking fur and inhaled the scent of=20 thousands of antique books. Not my books, if I wanted to think of=20 it that way. But I could be the guardian of this printed treasure. Did I mention that the scent of these antique books was an=20 aphrodisiac to me? Learn something new every day. ---------------------------------- After ten days I did two things. I phoned the Running Lick Library and got a grudgingly given=20 additional vacation extension. Didn't quit, not yet. And I once more put some clothes on. Just for something different to do. Belle Anna breezed in one afternoon, and hurried to bed, proclaiming=20 loudly how exhausted she was. No one commented on Yar's absence.=20=20 Within forty-eight hours Susan showed up in the middle of the night,=20 I think, with Yar in tow. Interesting relationships here. Belle Anna put on her own Chauffeur's uniform and drove Kathryn and=20 myself to Alexandria for a little shopping for me. Clothes, shoes,=20 a little new perfume called Opium, etc. Belle Anna was dutifully waiting for us when we came out of the=20 store. After all, Kathryn was not the only one who could pretend to=20 be hired help. Kathryn really did honestly own this almost-mansion. Belle Anne was=20 her heir, and a lot of the Library was hers. Susan herself owned a=20 place in Spain. Yar owned ranch land in Mexico cattle country.=20=20 Iago had ... interests. I felt a little bit like a fairy tale princess. Pun intended. I'd thought I was falling in love with the scullery maid, and=20 suddenly discovered she was the Queen. Snow White was awoken by the Evil Queen, who in reality saved her=20 from a poison administered by the dwarves by mistake, and took Snow=20 White back to the Castle with her to live happily ever after. No=20 sign of any handsome prince's on snow white horses. Tomorrow night I might be transported to a ball in a pumpkin. I expected a trio of singing mice to show up any minute now. Kathryn loved me. A lot. I loved Kathryn. A lot. There was no=20 doubt in my own mind about it. I loved her and she loved me. Which=20 made me a giddy female, I guess. Wonderful! And I wasn't entirely sure by this time of who actually had the=20 money. Belle Anna or Kathryn. Or Yar, or Susan (who I discovered=20 was into anal beads). To make the fairy tale part complete, I'd originally been taken with=20 and by Belle Anna. However, it hadn't taken me long to realize I=20 wished to spend all of my nights with Kathryn. Fairy tales. With me as the beautiful princess. Did I mention=20 Kathryn believed I was beautiful? Who am I to argue with someone=20 who's on a first-name basis with the Senator from Delaware? It was that Irish tongue of hers, I said to myself. That and the way she'd talk to me. Poetry in your ear in the dawn's=20 light is a great turn-on. She made me feel as if I was the most important woman in the world.=20=20 It didn't take an awful lot of effort to find myself responding to=20 Kathryn's blandishments. Not difficult at all. Maybe it was because Kathryn was obviously just a few years older=20 than myself. She might speak of Samuel Pepys as a selfish little=20 scandal monger, but everyone in the house talked funny like that. Yar talked about Napoleon in Warsaw, Susan talked about the Fourth=20 Crusade and the sack of Byzantium. And Belle Anna ... Belle Anna=20 mentioned when the plague took Milan in 1630. As well as what an=20 obsessive neurotic Michelangelo was. As well as seeing Essex's head=20 on the gate of the Tower of London, Elizabeth's lover, placed there=20 by order of Elizabeth the Virgin Queen herself. I just let it pass me by and found myself waiting for the next time=20 Kathryn would search me out in the Library. I wore dark hose and=20 black garter belts and lacey panties and hope Kathryn would come=20 into the stacks and take the panties off me. We used that Polar=20 Bear rug a lot. We never did get it sent out for dry cleaning. I=20 also found out the fireplace there was purely ornamental. It had no=20 flue. In other words, I took to concentrating on my little redhead and all=20 those gorgeous books. Belle Anna and Kathryn had already offered me the job of being their=20 private Librarian. Kathryn offered me ... life. I was now an official dyke girlfriend. I still wasn't entirely sure=20 if I was femme or butch, but all that seemed rather immaterial when=20 confronted by the reality of having a wife. Or I was a wife.=20=20 Virginia had no category for people like us except to define us as=20 perverts. Anyways, Kathryn being my wife didn't make me the=20 husband, and it didn't make Kathryn a soft femme either. Running=20 Lick could go to hell. I was in heaven. ---------------------------------- I should have known my run of luck couldn't hold. ---------------------------------- Kathryn and I had been grocery shopping, and we were going through a=20 green light at a semi-rural crossroads. Kathryn was driving my=20 Pontiac, and we were ... I can't remember what we were doing. Then the world turned noise and white and spinning crazy. It took a while for any pain to come to me. My legs were trapped=20 and the dashboard seemed lodged in my chest. Kathryn was ... She was impaled on the steering column. I could see the thick post sticking out her back. Then the pain hit me. I screamed. I know it was me, because=20 Kathryn couldn't. Not any more. --------------------------------- I'd never had what I'd call pretty legs before, and now there were a=20 whole series of scars pinpointing the results of a sudden stop due=20 to collision. The doctors said the scars would go away, for the=20 most part. As for what happened, a drunk running away from a traffic ticket had=20 ended two lives; his own being one of them. I felt more dead than=20 enraged. Such a stupid thing to die for. The Library had taken me back, once I had gotten to moving around=20 again. State law. They had to. Still, they didn't expect me to be running around much, not for a=20 while yet. It had been a sad, gray winter in Running Lick. Kathryn had been quickly cremated, so there was no funeral. Worries=20 about medical bills proved groundless. My hospital stay and therapy=20 were paid for by the county, and a trust fund and will which made me=20 partial heir to Kathryn's possessions. One day a truck had arrived at my decaying family home in Running=20 Lick with a number of sturdy wooden crates for me. They even=20 included a pry bar in the shipment. Mother had a ball helping me=20 rummage through the contents. I now had nine wooden boxes sitting in the family living room, and=20 the trust lawyer said he would be glad to find a place to auction=20 off the items. Books. About five hundred of them, most of them carefully sealed in=20 plastic. At one time I'd have been delighted to have this=20 treasure. Most were autographed, though not all were firsts. We'd also discovered a bonus inside one crate. A packet of twenty- seven letters carefully tucked into plastic sleeves, in a folio,=20 were in the top of one opened box. I hadn't had them tested and certified, but I presumed they were=20 genuine. Marilyn Monroe, Abraham Lincoln, Samuel Clemens, John J.=20 Pershing, Queen Victoria of England, Enrico Caruso, Tom Jefferson,=20 and many who not even I recognized. I was probably rich. It gave me only limited joy. I had been unable to find hide nor hair of Belle Anna, or Susan, or=20 Yar, or even Iago in Pittsburgh. I owned the house in the Blue Ridge mountains, but the Library stood=20 denuded of books, and the kitchen held no food. A vast empty=20 residence, with no carpets or Polar Bear rugs. It was still up for=20 sale, only now the real estate agents would send the money to me.=20=20 There would be estate taxes when it was sold, but even so they=20 talked of my after-taxes inheritance in increments of hundreds of=20 thousands of dollars. The books, on the other hand, were just ... there. There would be=20 no estate taxes on them, since I wasn't stupid enough to mention=20 them to the IRS. In the meantime there were bills to pay, and I wanted to be doing=20 something instead of brooding or spending my blood money in advance. I kept thinking I had to leave home and Running Lick soon. My=20 Mother wasn't going to remain hale and healthy for forever, and when=20 she began the long slide downhill both my sisters would think I=20 should care for her. Just like I had the past fifteen years since=20 the mine blast took dad. I was beginning to feel trapped here. So I ignored the still-present pain in my legs and pushed the=20 returns cart down the rows, patiently putting away the books brought=20 in today thus far. There wasn't much pain, and it felt better using=20 them as much as possible. Took my mind offen things and the=20 exercise did them good. I was going to leave Running Lick. Somehow. Somewhere. Brenda knocked on wood to get my attention. A package of some size=20 had just come for me, care of the Library. After several minutes of concentrated effort by four women, the=20 large packet was shredded open and two immense folios slid out on=20 the main desk. It was a photographic history of the Civil War of the sort called=20 coffee table books by some. They were expensive, magnificent, over- sized and there was a note taped to the front of one of these modern=20 treasures. "It struck me that your little Library would appreciate the books=20 enclosed. Take them as a gift for the Library," Belle Anna wrote. "I especially draw your attention to the first volume of the Civil=20 War photos, page 22, left. As you will see there was indeed an=20 Apple orchard at Arlington." I found the magnifying glass they keep on the second shelf and=20 studied the people in the picture. The legend said it was General C. Meigs, and a few of his officers,=20 outside the Lee mansion. The trees amongst which they stood could=20 have been apple trees, I couldn't have told. Of more interest at=20 center right was a young woman holding a cat in her arms. It=20 appeared white in the old tintype, with darker stripes. I had no=20 doubt it was orange and its name was Tom Tita. The woman had a small stylish hat of the period, and her eyes were=20 shaded, but I was sure it was Belle Anna. In 1862. I looked up and Belle Anna herself was standing in front of me. "March is a hideous season to drive in, in these hills," she=20 said. "Would it be possible for us to go somewhere and talk?" The chief Librarian groused, but she could see I had company, and=20 well-dressed company at that. So I was given permission to leave,=20 half-way through my shift. In twenty minutes I was slowly navigating the parking lot slush and=20 ice of a West Virginia March, and looking for the mint green Lincoln. It was to one side of center in back, and Belle Anna directed me by=20 a finger's touch. She did not offer to help me, and for that I was=20 grateful. Like most hill folk, I was touchy in my pride, and I was=20 prideful of my re-learned ability to walk. "Where'd you all go?" I asked, overflowing with questions. "I=20 looked for you and the others, but it was if you'd never existed?" Was that you in that old tintype? I also wanted to ask, but that=20 question would wait. I had a distinct feeling that the telling of=20 that story would be a long process, and I wanted to be sitting down=20 when it was told. "We are quite skilled by now in disappearing," Belle Anna=20 answered. "We've never been fond of the attentions of others, and=20 least of all the forces of the law, or the crowd of vultures called=20 the media these days." I noticed the eucenemical `We', and presumed `We' was the extended=20 family of Belle Anna's, of which I had seen a portion thereof. It was almost expected that the chauffeur lounging against the car=20 would be a small female that looked, even from the back, not unlike=20 Kathryn. Belle Anna probably ran to types just like everyone else=20 in the world, and hers was petite redheads. Over the months, I'd been riveted in shock many times. Four, five=20 dozen times since I returned to Running Lick, all by the sight of=20 short women. They didn't even need to be very Kathryn-like. My=20 mind was more than willing to project what I wanted to see onto a=20 stranger's body and face. I ached anew, for I still missed Kathryn=20 and the hollow black electricity still filled me at a second's=20 notice. I could tell this chauffeur was smoking, and Kathryn never smoked.=20=20 I watched the cigarette be ground underfoot, and hurt to see the=20 similarities of movement and grace I'd come to know in my Kathryn.=20=20 I missed her so. Then I touched the Lincoln and the chauffeur turned to get the door=20 for me and Belle Anna. Kathryn smiled up at me and said; "Hello, Sam, dear heart. Have I=20 got a story to tell you." END ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: