Shiv recalls more of the incidents of the past that helped shape her heart around Grace. The pair still have many adjustments to go through, including culture shock, language barriers and coming to terms with being open about their relationship. Grace's efforts to connect with Siobhan finally bear fruit after many years of waiting.
This entry is a section meant for adults only. That is to say:
This story is not safe for work and truly not acceptable reading for those under 18.
Having said that, I hope you can feel the intensity I tried to express in String of Pearls.
- Eclectic Kitty
Classes were a total pain by Christmas time. Not only was I getting behind in world history classes, I was feeling like Grace and I weren't seeing eye-to-eye about much lately.
She seemed uncomfortable around me. I don't know how to explain it, but I think that she didn't trust me for some reason. If it had to do with me almost seeing her nude, then that was silly. We'd seen each other in bathing suits that left precious little to the imagination.
I'd been trying to get to know her brother better, in case my previous lack of effort with Chris was the cause of the widening rift between Grace and I. Chris enjoyed the attention and actually scaled back on being a jerk quite noticeably as we became better friends.
The first day of Christmas break, Chris came over and asked to see me.
While not unusual, I was usually the one who went over to ask him to come out.
“Heya Chris. What's up?”
“Funny expression, that one. It makes me seem 'up' to no good.”
“Make of it what you will,” I said, not giving away the intent of my words. “It's new to me that you have come to see if I'm home before I went to see you.”
“I'm looking to turn over a new leaf. A truly new leaf.”
Chris got quiet and looked at the ground thoughtfully. I gave him his space to think.
With a sigh, he ran his hand through his long light brown hair and snapped his gaze to me, surprising me with its intensity.
“Grace needs you. Needs your friendship. She's been a total drag about the house and honestly could use a pick-me-up. She's been listening to that damn Police CD you got her nonstop and it is truly maddening; and I love The Police! Won't you go talk to her?”
“Of course I will. Is she willing to talk to me? Something I'm doing is not going over well and I don't know what it is, exactly.”
“Ah. That. Well, try this on for size: Grace is not yet ready to start chatting about boys and puberty and all that. Our family is a bit conservative, even by starchy English standards. Just walk around that subject for now, eh?”
“I can do that. It's not like I was trying to make her uncomfortable. I really want to be her friend. Her best friend.”
“I know that's how she feels about you too. She just didn't think it was okay to tell you what you should be talking about. I overheard her talking to Mum about all this, so don't tell her how you know.”
“I promise to be smart about the whole thing. Thank you, Cretein.”
“I like it when you call me Chris,” he said with a wink.
“One other thing before you go over there: Grace had trouble getting on with some of the kids at our old school in Hong Kong, though she likely won't want to talk about it.
“They made fun of her hair and eyes, but most cutting were the snide comments about her accent. I should know, they did it to me constantly, though I seemed to have had a knack with image that has eluded her. Surely it's jealousy. Those kids actually made fun of her for sounding 'too English'. That and having the arrogance to correct people's speech, spelling, grammar, maths, geography-- you name it. That penchant of hers fed into the snobby image the kids tried to hang on her.
“Brits aren't normally targeted for such discrimination, but my sister has, as you've noticed, unquestionably mixed lineage and that makes her an easier target than most. People know that her hair is naturally blonde, but I've gotten on with people assuming that I bleach mine out. That and lighter brown eyes aren't exactly unheard of.
“Just realize that people here aren't too dissimilar and they will certainly name her differences at the very least, and try to knock her down for those things that elevate her above others at worst.”
Chris's speech floored me. My whole image of him seemed to come undone like a clay mold that was broken away to reveal the iron casting within. It touched me deeply and made me go all watery-eyed.
“You have my word that anyone who has something to say edgewise about Grace will have to answer to me.”
“That's what I want to hear,” he agreed with a brightening of his face.
“Now get over there. You have a holilday to make the most of.”
“I will. You will join us more often? Please?”
“Hunh, I'll have to check my schedule. Er, looks as if I'm free for the time being!”
Mrs. Miao was happy to see that I was coming over to see Grace again. With an incline of her head, she acknowledged Chris's influence in the matter.
Grace was up in her room with the door ajar. I pushed my head in and said, “Hey girl!”
I got quite a show watching Grace sing and dance along with 'Canary in a Coalmine'. After being frightened out of her skin, she leapt across to her bed and threw one of her myriad pillows at me.
“Taking it to the physical altercation level, eh?” I challenged. I snatched up the errant pillow and dodged another tossed my way as I casually flicked the square pillow right into her midsection.
Chris begged off getting involved into a pillow fight, so he missed out on us playing like little kids, throwing pillows, tickling, singing, wrestling and dancing for over an hour until we were out of breath from laughing and we agreed to call the contest a draw.
Had he been there, I'm not sure we would have been dancing so crazily when "Man in a Suitcase" came on. It was embarrassingly high-stepping fun.
When we had caught our breath, Grace came over to me after regarding me for a moment and hugged me.
“What was that for?”
“For coming over again. I thought I'd really messed things up. I know Chris had some piece in it, but you still had the choice of whether to come.”
“He's really something. Quite surprising,” I lightly huffed.
“He's all right, yeah.”
“I'm sorry, Grace.”
“Don't even start. I've been feeling sorry for myself and didn't know how to tell you that I had a problem. Let's just begin anew, okay?”
“OK.”
Junior high school was bumpy for Grace, Chris and me. We all caused our own little stir, but none so much as I did.
The first thing that I can remember setting me off was Vince Bolini saying, “China's 'Most Favored Nation' status must be paying off if we're getting kinds of imports.”
I was taller than he by about four inches and he had it coming with his crude mouth and misogynistic outlook. I pushed him down and dared him to explain what he had just said in detail. He just stammered out apologies and ran off.
Grace wasn't pleased with either of us.
Another time, an eighth grade girl was making fun of Grace's accent in a group of six other girls girls from our class and I was caught flipping them all off. Nothing I told Sister Anna or fat Pastor Pat about the situation stopped them from calling my parents.
There were some other altercations, but the one that got me in the most trouble was when Jerry Cummings snapped Grace's bra and made her cry.
She'd been having a hard day already, and I just let loose on him with a cussing barrage that had him backpedaling away from me so fast that he hit a cement wall and started bleeding from the injury. He called me the unforgivable 'c' word, so I kicked him in the groin.
We both were suspended for three days. Grace only talked to me on the third day and she merely said, “Thanks.”
Now that I was armed with a bulldog reputation, neither Grace nor I ran into any trouble for the whole two months left of school. Sweet victory!
My parents weren't sure about Presentation High, since Junipero Serra offered high school level education but Grace's parents convinced them after showing them statistics on college entry successes for each school in the area. Chris was quite unhappy about heading off alone to all boys Bellarmine, but wisely kept his disappointment to himself.
We weren't too keen on an all girls school, but the magic of having a new best friend along with me made it all seem worthwhile. Grace's dismay over starting yet another new school grew slightly when she learned that she only shared two classes with me; tenth grade Honors English and Honors Algebra II. In my book, that meant my two most difficult classes had a partner that I could understand and respect.
Christmas vacation was a played-down affair this year, as we had a paper to finish that was due the day we returned from vacation. Mine was on “A Clockwork Orange.” Grace's was on “The Drug War: Are We Winning Yet?”
If I knew then what I know now, I would have bit into both more heavily. It's funny how popular culture can strike a chord with us and we don't even know why.
I remember my parents watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and being totally wrapped up in it. It made sense to me that everyone was against the Cardassians and the Romulans, then the Dominion. The Dominion in particular had the Founders, a secretive group of shapeshifters who thought themselves better than everyone else and ruled not for money or even for power, though that was an end to a means. They wanted all of us 'solids' eliminated.
Looking at how that fits into my current viewpoint, it frightens me that the science fiction dystopias have always held a kernel of truth; the most frightening parts, naturally.
We are too near A Clockwork Orange today. We are nearer 1984 than we know. More truthfully, we are just about at Animal Farm with this whole Kyoto Treaty farce. Industry bad, debt slavery good.
Grace was just about done with her report when I gave her my Powderburns: Iran, Contras and the Drug War book by Celerino Castillo. I helped her go through it and pick out how it fit with Nixon, Reagan, Clinton and the Bushes.
She got an "A" and I got a "B+" because I had “gone too far afield to bring up parallels.” My bad for being thorough, I guess.
Sister Valle turned her back to write on the board, so Carrie Anne took the opportunity to throw a note at Grace. I caught it easily, thanks to her telegraphing her intent with three different glances past my gaze. I opened the note.
Violets are blue
Your hair comes from a test tube
And so do you
Furious, I crossed her lame limerick out and wrote back:
Her friends are too
There is no one
Who they won't do
I hit her in the head with the note and watched her read it and discreetly give me the finger.
Grace noticed and whispered, “Eyes of sky blue that are meant to watch my back always; may I never be where they can't see me.”
“Eyes of cinnamon red that are meant to watch my back always; may I never be where they can't see me.”
“You both have eyes that should be up front,” an angry voice added in.
Sister Valle was not pleased by our constant conversations during her lectures. For some reason, we never got more than a talking to. Grace said it was because she always asked questions to see if we were paying attention and we always had intelligent answers. It was a theory, anyhow.
“Tell me, Ms. Llewellyn,” Sister Valle pronounced perfectly in her booming voice, “why did Bigger kill Mary?”
I knew she had me flat-footed, but that didn't stop me from easily knowing the answer to that particular question.
“She would have talked, Sister Valle”
“And what would she have said?”
My silence told her all she needed to know.
“I see. Ms. Miao?”
“That he'd been intimate with her, Sister Valle?”
“Are you asking me? Were you not paying attention? In a complete sentence this time, tell me how intimate.”
Grace almost took too long, but finally responded, “Bigger Thomas had kissed her and didn't want her to tell her blind mother about it. It was a thoughtless murder.”
Sister Valle's countenance didn't waver, though she did turn around before announcing loudly, “Ms. Miao, be so kind as to bring Ms. Llewellyn up to speed before next class.”
My face must have been quite telling, as Grace put her hand on my arm to calm me. I looked at her for a moment and found I couldn't be upset with being shown up a bit.
“Smartypants.”
“I certainly hope not.”
Seeing her deliver that straight-faced nearly got me detention for giggling in class.
Grace and I sat together with Chris and his friend Mike on the lattice-covered deck in my backyard. Some fireworks had been going off nearby though it was illegal to do so.
The four of us were looking forward to the Great America show, clearly visible from our backyard. Mike kept telling Chris that he wanted to go up on our roof, but I had said, “not a chance.” Chris was doing well to hold to that.
Grace went to get a couple of Dr. Peppers for us from the cooler and sat right next to me when she returned.
“Siobhan, do you think we will be friends five years from now?”
“What, are you kidding? Of course we will be. We're best friends forever. I've got your back, no matter what.”
I leaned forward for our S.W.A.K. and Grace dropped her smirk and did something she hadn't done before; she closed her eyes.
We kissed chastely, but it lasted longer than usual by a good three seconds. My heart was beating hard, but I chalked it up to having an audience.
“Funny how girls can do that and not be called lesbians, but if guys do it, they are immediately gay,” Mike observed.
I felt the heat in my face acutely as Grace watched me for a reaction. I decided to play it off just as Mike had suggested.
“Yeah, if we were real lesbos, then you'd have known it.”
Grace took a quick drink of Dr. Pepper and held her nose, yelling, “Ah! That burns!”
Her eyes were red and teary after having the carbonation burn her nose. I didn't find it funny, like the boys did, since Grace was neither laughing nor looking at me as the tears fell.
“Who is escorting you to the the Mitty Senior Ball, Shiv?”
“The reason I haven't told you is because I haven't found someone to replace that jackhole Zvonimir yet.”
“If you can't find anyone, I would go with you.”
“You are very sweet, Grace, but I'm sure you have quite a few offers that are better options than taking me.”
“I've had some offers, but my best friend is better than a total stranger, if you ask me.”
Chagrined by her inability to see that having a picture of your best friend in a prom photo would be pathetic, I gave her a less-than-enthusiastic, “You may have something there, but I'm keeping my options open for a little longer.”
Grace didn't wait for me after school. When I arrived at the parking lot, her Mustang was gone. I sighed and made my way to the bus stop.
Doing so in a school uniform wasn't my idea of a fun afternoon, as it often led to stares and cat calls as I traveled
farther away from school. Then there were the frequent fliers that talked to anyone on the bus as if they were guests in their own home.
One such 'shame train' denizen decided I looked lonely or something. I didn't see her until she was close enough to block the afternoon sun glaring off the SUV in front of the bus.
She was a late 40s woman with short henna-dyed hair, no make-up, and no fashion sense from what I could tell by her short-alls and puffy short-sleeved blouse with a flowery embroidered placard. She smelled like she'd last seen a shower at least four days ago. My stomach churned.
“Have you any pussycats, Alice?” she asked in an accent that reminded me of Frau Blá¼cher from Young Frankenstein. I resisted the urge to scare some horses and call lightning strikes while still inside the bus.
I looked at her like she was crazy, but she didn't lose her curious expression. Does she really think I'm going to tell her my name?
“May I call you Alice?”
I shrugged and nodded. I doubted that she was a Sisters of Mercy fan, or even an Elton John fan. Remembering that I was wearing my school uniform, I gleaned that her reason from calling me Alice stemmed from the mainly blue and white colors in my tartan skirt. Thanks, Disney. On second thought, her glazed eyes spoke of many hours of listening to Jefferson Airplane in a smoke-filled room. Bad for vinyl, I thought automatically.
“I have two cats.”
Delighted to have found a willing participant in the topic of her choice, she didn't bother to introduce herself and merely drove on. I kicked myself mentally.
“Cats are so much better than dogs, I think. Dogs are so needy. Yip, yip — bark, bark. Yip, yip — bark, bark. It's enough to drive you crazy.”
Indeed, I thought as I suppressed the urge to smile.
“And they eat so much,” she added.
My tolerance for her body odor was nearing an end. Thankfully, I saw us pass up the stop before mine, so I leaned toward the open window and drew a deep breath as I pressed the yellow strip to indicate my desire to get the hell off this crazy bus and jump in a shower.
“Live pretty close to school, yes?”
“Presentation: home of the Prezzy Lezzies! Heh heh haaaa.”
Oh my god, she's crackers and on the hunt. Perhaps she meant Elton John's Alice after all.
“This is my stop. Good luck with those cats.”
“Oh, this is my stop too. What a happy coincidence. Maybe we can finish our talk about pussycats?”
She didn't seem like a bad person, but I was getting the wrong signals. I decided that I was going to run home. Whether she was harmless or not, I was feeling stalked.
The bus pulled away and the woman finally decided to introduce herself.
“I am called Glynnis,” she announced with an outstretched hand.
A car horn startled the two of us.
Grace pulled up and yelled, “Hey gorgeous. Need a ride?”
Glynnis observed, “It seems you have an admirer.”
“She's my best friend.”
“Then you are lucky, twice over,” she remarked cryptically.
I hopped in and Grace sped away. Looking back, I noticed that Glynnis hadn't left the bus stop. I shuddered.
“How did you know, Grace?”
“Know what?”
“That I needed you?”
“I felt guilty for not waiting for you after school. I was selfish and hurt that you didn't want to go to the Mitty Senior Ball with me. I looked for you, but you had gone, so I went to your house and you weren't there. Then I felt stupid because I probably could have found you at the bus stop, so I circled this bus stop a few times until you got dropped off.
“Who was that lady?”
“She called herself Glynnis. She wanted to talk about 'pussycats' and got off the bus when I did. She scared me. I'm so glad you came by,” I gushed.
Grace smiled and winked at me. “These eyes are meant to watch your back always.”
She had a sweet attitude now, but what was that about going to the ball? It's not like I wouldn't go with her. I just wanted to be able to go with my boyfriend and that's not going to happen now.
Grace came over at 4:30 to pick me up for the Ball. She was angry and dripping tears.
“What's wrong Grace?”
“Could we talk in private?”
I looked at Mom and she nodded, though her face was riddled with concern.
“Let's go to my room.”
Once upstairs, I turned to Grace, who was dressed in a pink cocktail dress that did nothing to play down her voluptuousness. I felt like Strawberry Shortcake standing next to a Chinese Malibu Barbie. She was gorgeous.
“You look amazing.”
Grace turned to thank me, I think, but instead started crying in earnest.
I grabbed my box of tissues disguised as a teddy bear, blew the dust off, then pulled out a few.
Handing her the first two, I sat beside her and waited with my arm over her shoulders. She grabbed my hand and held it tight.
When Grace finally quieted, she began laughing derisively.
“That bastard. Dad, I mean. He told me that if I couldn't get a 'proper date' then something must be wrong with me. Don't most girls lose their virginity on their Junior Prom or Senior Ball? He should be overjoyed that I am saving myself for the right person.
“Chris doesn't have a date either, so he's not even going. He went with me to Prom, so I've no clue why he chose to sit the Ball out. Dad's not telling Chris that something is wrong with him.”
“Your dad is a bit blunt. Maybe he meant that something is wrong with the world if you don't have a date?”
“I honestly believe he meant me, Shiv. He was disappointed in me.”
Grace's face melted into a look of despair that radiated like an open oven and the tears began anew. My heart went out to her and her strange family life, though my own father was almost as aloof and absent as hers.
“Do you still want to go tonight?”
“Oh Shiv, you look so very lovely. I'm sorry for all this.”
“Should I take that as a 'no'?”
She sat back from me and looked me squarely in the eye. I handed her the third tissue.
“I don't believe that I could, Shiv. Could you forgive me? I will still drop you off and pick you up, of course.”
“No. No need. Where I should be is right here, with my best friend when she needs me. Let me go tell my mom.”
Once downstairs, I got a look from my mom that said she knew. Grace's absence and my face must have told the story before I could.
“Siobhan, sweetie, go ask Grace to fix her face, then at least allow me a few dozen pictures. You should have a record of how fantastic you both look.”
Chris and Justine had set it all up.
Grace's brother was never my type, but that had never stopped him from trying after he convinced himself that my aggression was actually thinly veiled attraction. He was so very effeminate, but tried to cover it by using his deep macho voice most of the time. I may reward him with a kiss for what he did tonight.
Justine McNamara had become our friend through Chris and I could tell that their feelings for each other were growing. Hell, she was growing on me, too. Justine had something about her that radiated clarity. She knew herself quite well and everything she said was straight from her heart. I had no doubt that she had laid out the mechanics of this evening.
At about eight, I was setting up an off-campus party at Justine's house with a bunch of her classmates. We were putting together a couple of kegs and half barrels of ice, putting away valuables and pictures, and generally idiot-proofing the house.
As the house began to fill, I started mingling with those who were new to me. I was wearing something cute, but not too casual; a short sleeved pink and yellow tie-dyed blouse with matching socks, my chestnut Ugg Abbies and my favorite khaki capris. Though I had gotten into some truly interesting conversations, I think it was ten thirty when the party really began for me.
The eyes of the room kept turning toward me — no, past me. When the guy I was talking to about the Not-So-Federal Reserve stepped to his right to look around me and caught his breath, I had to turn one-eighty to see what the big deal--
It was my best friend Grace, dressed like I had never imagined I'd -EVER- see her. I sharply exhaled with a ragged low whistle, then drew a very slow breath inward as I took in her appearance.
She and I had locked eyes from the moment I turned around, but I could not help notice that her blue cheongsam with a silver dragon pattern kept catching the light as it slipped across her thighs. Her stare and slight smirk that pulled her thick lips off to the left were that of a predator, but I had no intention to run.
My face must have been glowing like an ambulance roller as my heart leapt with desire, hope and a sudden wish to be in a very much more private setting. Where I lost my face-splitting Cheshire cat smile was when she turned to navigate a chair between us and showed off her white tie-up thigh high stockings and a generous portion of thigh that left little doubt where her leg decided to make an ass of itself. I wondered where she learned to walk like that, then dismissed the thought just as soon as I had thought it.
She's my best friend! Close jaw. Eye contact. Right.
A couple of guys bumped into each other as they made to follow Grace over to my side of the room. You could almost see the movement of blood from brain to groin all around the room as no one took their eyes off Grace.
Some girls were beginning to wear scowls and some guys were smart enough to not openly stare. The effect she had was very potent.
She'd cut her hair since I'd last seen her. She sported an asymmetrical bob that was almost four inches higher on one side and came down in a perfect spiral around the back. Her bangs continued the spiral until it stopped just to the side of her right temple. How she could cut that gorgeous straight blonde hair was something I'd have to ask her in private, because there's definitely a story there.
Grace's cinnamon sugar eyes were smiling, but I could tell from the slight shaking of her freshly-manicured hands that she didn't expect as much attention as she was getting. I took her hand (French-manicure-styled in blue to match her dress with silver tips) in mine and she pressed up close, her hourglass tipping my direction as time stopped for me. She whispered against my cheek into my ear, “Let's go someplace to talk. I have somewhere in mind.” I shivered as my nipples hardened at her whisper.
With that, she nodded to Chris and he led us away from the crowd whose volume was rising quickly, turning into out-and-out chatter about this goddess in their presence and her merely mortal political activist friend. Chris didn't act too differently, but he certainly blushed hard enough. His light brown ponytail swished like a horse's tail, trying to flick away the comments that pestered our backs.
Grace smelled like sweet incense and I could still feel the touch of her large lips on my cheek. I was wondering what this was about, but kind of knew in my heart of hearts that she was going to drop a bomb on me. She kept shooting glances sideways at me as we walked, as if to check if I was still there and still willing. She had little to fear, as I wasn't going anywhere where she was not.
Some guy said, “Damn. Wish I were a lesbo right about now,” but I didn't catch who. I didn't care and dismissed it at the time as absurd, since guys seemed to make the most moronic comments with even the slightest smell of liquor in the air.
Besides, I was too busy being torn between being angry with my best friend who had been gone for over three weeks without answering my calls and blooming desire/curiosity/wonder/concern to mind a meathead like him.
Chris walked over to a room just past Justine who nodded and smiled, then told us to lock it for privacy and security, since that's where most of the computers and stuff were stashed for the night. Chris tried chatting up Justine as I closed the door behind me and I tried to infuse some of my luck into him through sheer will. I closed and locked the door slowly as much to buy time to wipe Chris's cheesy smile out of my head as to give Grace time to find a spot to sit. Nowhere was available but the bed. Was that planned?
When I turned, I still felt like I had stepped into the Twilight Zone. Who was this girl? What did she do with my best friend? I mean, she was a prude and a half who had destroyed the ego of every guy I had ever set up for her for not being good enough. The torch lamp was already turned on, kind of making a slight orange glow across the room that reminded me of romantic restaurants. We didn't talk for a minute and my eyes kept wandering, so I decided to go on the offensive while I still had some footing in anger over being cut out of Grace's life.
“Grace. You. Look. Amazing!”
False start. Number 6 — Offense. Five yard penalty. Second down.
I was no good at this offense thing.
“You like this getup?” Grace offered sweetly with a little bounce and flourish that sent shock waves into my gut. “I was hoping that we could talk about it some,” she continued a little more meekly when I hadn't answered her question immediately.
“I want to talk about it, but more importantly, let's talk about why we're alone in a locked room and why two of our 'no secrets' friends seem to know far more about it than I do. What's going on?”
“I thought you'd know, Shiv. Hasn't it been obvious for some time now?” While she talked, Grace put her clutch purse down on the bed and sat down next to it, exposing clearly those unique thigh highs and smooth skin up to her hip. “We aren't just friends, are we?”
“We're best friends, Grace. You know that,” I hedged.
“Ahh. And that is all?”
“What do you want me to say? That I will drop my man-chasing ways to possibly let a bull run loose in the china shop of our hearts?”
“Something like that, yes. I've felt that you wanted this for so long... at least as long as I've wanted it. Since I was about 11ish and started becoming a woman a bit ahead of you, you've always tried to find an excuse to come up to my room when I'm dressing. And when I shower before a time when you're supposed to come over, I find you have arrived very early and are in my room when I arrive. Not like I minded, after a time.
“Then there were the times when you slept over and held me 'to feel safe'. God, I had such a hard time sleeping then! Remember back when Ryan broke up with you for not sleeping with him on your twelfth date? I thought for sure you were going to kiss me that night, but you turned your head. I cried when you went home to call him.”
“I didn't know what I wanted back then. I thought you had no clue about love, so I was hoping to teach you a little about flirting and such. I wanted you to know that there was a bigger picture. I...” I knew I was in trouble by the way she looked right into my eyes, past the flimsy lies I was holding up.
Grace dropped her pump sandals off her feet, stood up fluidly and walked over to me. It wasn't until then that I noticed the tabi-toed ends to her stockings.
As she drew closer, my face twitched as I felt shivers chase each other all over my body. She took my hands and put them on either side of her face, just under her ears and said up to my face in a low voice, “Kiss me.”
I didn't want to. I lie. I wanted nothing else, but I knew that if this didn't work out, our friendship might be over. I tried to distract myself by trying to tune in the teensy far away voices that asked an endless stream of questions, but when she breathed out and I smelled her lip gloss (cherry!), mixed with her own spicy-sweet scents, I snapped my focus to her lovely eyes and leaned in slowly, savoring every soft curve of her face, the smells, the warmth, the ohmygod softness of her lips on mine.
Needless to say, I was having moisture control problems of the highest order. My puffy areolas that had just recently relaxed had now transformed into sweater shredders. I ached for passion. When her breasts touched mine, little areas all over my body tightened in response.
Have you ever been given “The Answer”? I mean, it's like when you hold a baby. The meaning of life — right there — in your arms. POW, right in the kisser. Uhh, well, I think you know what I mean. OK, maybe it's kind of like having a gyro while in the Middle East. You just can't eat that commercialized meat paste crap afterwards. You are sold on having flaky, perfectly spiced lamb on your freshly baked pita until the end of time. The Secret Ingredient has been found and nothing else is comparable!
OK, OK, back to The Queen and I.
My lips slid across hers as I tasted cherry and her slightly salty tongue mingling in my mouth. At that moment, I was very, very happy that I was a teetotaler. There was nothing to impair my senses and I was more intoxicated than if I had been drinking all night.
I was so in love with Grace, but I had never allowed that thought to progress beyond friendly love in my mind. Desire, maybe, but in the Girls Gone Wild sort of way that is mainly a show for the boys. I'd never had any dreams that spoke to this core yearning. But if Grace was right...
She slid her hands under my shirt and up my spine, starting at the small of my back. I ran both of my hands through the hair at the nape of her neck and closed my fingers gently to pull the strands smoothly away from her head as we kissed.
Her lips engulfed mine most of the time. It was a wonderful feeling that I wanted no end to. She pulled away reluctantly to say something but I wasn't finished yet, so we made out like summer lovers about to be parted. It seemed like ten, fifteen minutes, but in retrospect, I guess it could have been an hour. Besides, I didn't want to think. Grace was always the one to overthink everything and it was obvious she had thought about this quite thoroughly.
Finally parting, Grace looked up into my eyes and said, “Your eyes are peacock blue. They are the most beautiful eyes ever and I never want to be where they can't see me.”
Realizing that she was modifying our friendship pledge, I responded immediately in kind, “Your eyes are foxy red-brown with radii of creamy white. They are the most beautiful eyes ever and I never want to be where they can't see me.”
After staring at each other and getting seriously teary, I tried her trivia knowledge and fished for more at the same time, “I am Siobhan MacCleod of the Clan MacCleod, and I cannot die.”
Grace groaned and pulled me over to the bed, where she threw me down on top of it. I landed on her handbag and it was hard and lumpy. It hurt! “What the hell?” I demanded as I giggled nervously. She pulled the clasp open and gingerly pulled out two silicone dildos, one peachy, the other checkered red and black — each within its own freezer bag. While my mind and heart raced, she reached back in and pulled out a harness and a bottle of lubricant.
“Where the hell did you get all this?!”
“Good Vibrations,” she told me as if I would know the name. “I don't know about you, but I don't think we'll be needing this,” she remarked with a smirk as she stuffed the lube back into the handbag. “I think you'll like the fleshy one. It's Vixskin. It's the most realistic one they sell.”
I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, since these are the first dildos I'd ever seen that I'd also had the opportunity to touch — or ask questions about, for that matter. I realized that the girl I'd known for ten years has had more going on than I could have guessed at. I knew her almost better than I knew myself, but I didn't know the half of it, it seemed.
That excited me like finding out there was a secret compartment with a saucy diary in it after buying an old trunk from an antique fair. It also scared me because I thought that she knew all there was to know about me. How could I not know the same? Hell, I didn't even know I could get turned on... let me rephrase: I didn't know that girls actually did 'do it for me' until we closed the door. And I just pledged undying love for Grace like it was a matter of course. I didn't doubt her words or mine, but who am I? Watching Grace unfasten the clasps on her cheongsam leads me to think I should think about that a little later. Mmhmm.
Just as Grace was dropping a shoulder suggestively to shrug off her dress, the mood was killed with a knock at the door. An idea sprung into my head with the quickness that desperation affords one in emergency situations.
“Go away!” I yelled with a slight break in my voice. Afterwards, I started a piteous sob and said loudly, “I just don't know what I'm going to do without him, Grace. It's just not fair!” More pseudo-sobbing.
After a few gut-wrenching seconds where Grace rolled over and kept teasing me by slowly hiking her dress up her legs, I decided that they had left and stopped my loud noisemaking-- for now.
“Shiv?” Grace asked seriously.
My eyebrows went up in a “Yes?” gesture. “I want you to take a more aggressive role. I haven't a clue what I'm doing other than what I've seen in movies and read on the web and, umm, what I've been fantasizing about.”
“How so? What do I... Oh!” Grace had pointed at the equipment on the bed and I just boggled. Grace saw the gears turning in my head and beat me to the punch. She slipped the woven nylon and neoprene harness over the silicone members, making a soft of split-level double-ended dildo out of it, then adjusted the angles and looked at my capris with a slight pout. I swear I don't remember removing them, but I do recall one thing very clearly: I wasn't nearly as aggressive as I felt Grace was asking me to be. Somehow I needed to step up to the plate; and fast.
Grace traced her nails down my ribs as I finished unbuttoning my blouse. She moved down to my thigh and reversed to pan up it softly until she slid up under my piratey black “Arrrrrrse!” panties at the hip. She hooked the top and started pulling and I obliged by sliding down the other side. Grace gave an 'ooo' of delight as she exposed my honeyed copper hair, pointing the way to my “O” factory.
I nearly died of embarrassment as she broke the string of slipperiness that my wet panties had drawn away from me with her right hand. She was just grinning ear to ear.
Taking her cue, I touched her shoulder and moved the dress off her shoulder, boggling at the fact that she wasn't wearing any support. She let me move it down to just before her huge breasts before she raised an arm on the side I was pushing down, halting my progress. She held a hand out and then pointed down to indicate that I should kick off my capris and panties.
When I stepped out, she pushed my left leg out wide and looked me in the eye and then again at my bra. She was so gorgeous, I felt like I should be ashamed or embarrassed or maybe I felt unworthy, but it was me she was smiling at; me she was parting as she climbed to the floor; me she was tasting as she slid her hot (oh. my. god.) tongue right around my clit, then down towards my vagina, where the heat of her mouth over my wet lips cranked up the intensity ten times. Caught up in the magic of being with Grace and having wanted this without admitting it to myself, I started to brace myself for a magnificently round capital O.
However, she decided to be a maddening tease. She pulled away and slipped the cool, soft-headed Vixskin into me. I flexed involuntarily on the cooler-than-expected dildo and was sweetly surprised by the give of spongy softness over a stiff core that pushed back.
Wanting to keep the O rolling, as it were, I undid the clasp at the front of my bra and found a nipple to tug on and drop lightly. When she started moving it and sucking at my clit again, I wanted to melt and cry out and clench and lie back and dance all at the same time. Instead, I begged like I was ten years old again and was asking Grace to share the last of her mother's renowned rum fudge brownies.
“Grace? Grace! Please. I'm going to...” I shook as I grasped Grace's shoulder for support and gritted my teeth so I wouldn't cry out (too much), causing Grace to show her perfect white teeth as she watched me orgasm. “That was fast, and worth every penny.”
Breathing hard, I assured her, “I never needed anything but you, Grace.”
As I came down a bit, she looped the harness around my waist and between my legs, pulling tightly to secure my half of the dildo set in place.
I had an erection. I was penetrated. I was trapped, I was in charge. It was my turn. Deep breath. Oh yeah, she's in trouble now.
Grace stood and allowed her dress to drop, then stepped out of her thong. She carefully set both aside over a chair, then moved to untie her thigh highs. I reached out to stop her as I put my blouse and bra on top of her dress. She needed to keep those on. I'd never seen anything like them before and it made me want to know how they'd feel against my own skin as they looked like superfine knitting. Perhaps she'd let me try them next time. Oh yes, there has to be a next time.
She rocked up onto the balls of her feet to start kissing me again and I couldn't protest. It was like I was on a razor's edge between wild giddiness and a seriousness that was trying to draw me into exploring its vast depths. If I went either way, I feared losing access to feeling both at once, so I kept from giggling and I kept from overthinking what I was doing. I focused on Grace.
I kissed her from head to toe and back up again as I lowered her onto the bed, brushing her with my breasts and thighs, teasing her with my checkered member. I was reluctant to kiss her down there until I looked. She had hair almost exactly like mine in form. Flat against her body, swirling toward the source of the tantalizing smell of... cloves? cinnamon? I didn't care. What set us apart was the color. Her mother was Norwegian and her father was from Hong Kong. I remembered that he had some European ancestry as well, and that explained Grace's blonde hair that I got to play with. I parted her legs and knelt beside the bed, just as she had done minutes ago.
Grace put her calves up on the rounded part of my shoulders and drew me into her until I muffled for help. She lit up the room with a giggle as I smiled up at her with a very slippery face. I was focused on her pleasure, trying to reproduce what she had done to me, which felt very much like someone who wrote a question on your back, then you have to write the answer on their back to see if you got it right.
Grace started a low moan as I rubbed circles around the opening of her vagina with my fingertips while heavily rolling my tongue over her erect clit from tip to base. I reached up for her left breast, since she had a hold of the right one, but I couldn't reach it and still be able to do anything with it. As I rose a bit to capture her nipple, Grace moaned, “Yes. I'm ready Shiv. Please.”
My plans changed by the needs of my lover, I stood to steady myself for entry. She was so wet and so was I. I wanted nothing more than for Grace to have an orgasm like I had. I rubbed the outside of Grace's labia and she pushed a little against it to move it in. I decided that I wasn't getting enough movement, so she likely wasn't getting much from it either with so little action going on. I planted my hands aside her chest and sunk into her carefully.
She arched in what I thought was pain, so I pulled out. “What are you doing?” she demanded, though not harshly.
“I'm hurting you?” I offered.
“No. It was incredible! Please come back.”
Once again, I entered and soon started pumping with some gusto, which had the added distraction of having her breasts brush my forearms each time. Grace was moaning from deep in her chest, so I decided to do what I would want if I were her and took her breast into my mouth. I got as far as a whole nipple, areola and all. Jeeze, Grace had the largest breasts I'd ever seen. If I weren't concentrating on flicking my tongue over her nipple while pinching the areola with my teeth and not overdoing it, I'd have time to be jealous.
Grace got LOUD. She was so loud, I stopped what I was doing - - which got wide-eyed pleading. I got back to work and started moving my hips and tongue in circles. Little did I know that doing so would work little circles inside me and hit The Spot. Grace hit full stride and shook and bucked and made me wonder how I could have missed out on this for so long. She was beautiful, wild, open as a spring day, on top of the world. I was running close behind her. I kept at when I finally mastered my convulsions again.
Grace was still spasming when she bent forward and took my breasts into her hands and held them a second before pushing my nipples to within an inch of each other. She then took both into her huge mouth, sucking noisily at first, then flicking and not-too-lightly chewing. My eyes crossed and my toes curled as my nipples, ovaries and clit connected like a live wire through my belly and I went over the falls. I really tried to be quiet. I did! -For the first part.-
So, y'know, we were like at a party. We got quiet just in time for Michael Jackson's P.Y.T. chorus.
Pretty Young Thing
You need some lovin' (T.L.C.)
Tender lovin' care
And I'll take you there
We started laughing so hard that we both were in tears.
I pulled out of Grace and lay down next to her, holding her for all the world like she was a life-size teddy bear. I whispered “I love you Miao Ling Grace” so many times that I knew it sounded cheesy, but I couldn't care less about how I sounded. I would have gone out and announced to the whole party that I loved Grace if I'd thought of it. As it was, I just wanted to know what came next.
“I love you Siobhan Ilsa Llewellyn.” Grace moved to kiss me and I welcomed her with an eagerness. I didn't notice that she had thrown a leg over me until she touched the outside of my opposite thigh with the inside of hers. She slid down and breathed a slow breath out to steady herself before she started moving her hips in circles with a harder thrust as she swung forward.
I watched her breasts bobble and her hips grind and felt the movement inside me, never forgetting to thank my lucky stars and everything else I could think of for putting me here with Grace. Mostly, I was thankful to Justine for allowing us her room 'cause one of our parents was always home and we'd have certainly been caught by now!
I watched Grace's face intently. She was concentrating and little beads of sweat were forming on her brow and nose. She was beyond beautiful. She said she's in love with me. I knew I was in love with her. We locked hands and eyes. I tried to shimmy a bit to help us reach orgasm again. She clenched my hands tighter and began slamming hard, using our grip for leverage. Her sweat dripping down her breasts and onto me was so erotic that I yelled “Oh fuck!” as I came again, thereby bringing Grace into synergy as we lost ourselves in ecstasy.
Everything about her excited me whereas before I had thought of her simply as someone to confide in. Someone to go to when the going got rough. Someone to call before doing something new and fun. Someone to tell all my secrets to. Oh jeeze. How wrong I was about her. How wrong I was about me. So giddy in love; with a girl.
“Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“You said that I was doing inappropriate things when we were kids. What kind of things?”
“Well, for starters, you used to sneak into my bedroom at night through the window and claim that you couldn't sleep at your house. Do you remember?”
“I do,” I said through a wistful smile.
I began to remember feeling safe and warm, but turned on? Maybe not at first. I remember it being more of a slight jealousy on my part. Grace was developing sooner and faster than I was and it fascinated me as much as it made me want to be her instead of me. The boys and girls at Junipero Serra Jr. High certainly noticed every bit as much as I did. By high school, everyone in the world noticed her. Some older jerks with their pants dropping off their asses hounded her at the mall twice during her sophomore year, leading her to start wearing clothes that were, in a word, prudish.
Grace fixed her cinnamon forest gaze on me and continued, “It means a lot to me that you recall those times. A few years later, when the 'girls' reached their final size (thank God), you looked at me a lot in that manner, you know? It got me thinking that you wanted more, but I was not yet ready. I was sure I liked girls in the way that I thought you liked me, but my confidence was shaken when you started talking about boys.”
“Grace, I talked about boys because I thought that's what we were supposed to do. I mean, It never occurred to me to try anything with a girl until-- later. You never objected to me bringing boys up, but I guess you never truly participated much in those conversations either, in retrospect.”
“I dunno Shiv. When you started dating Craig in 8th grade, I was so crushed. I thought we would be together when we were ready for dating. So I waited instead of getting pissed through Craig, Rick, Zvonimir, Paul, Ruben--”
“OK, OK! I understand. I'm sorry. It's just that I never found what I was looking for, so I shopped around, y'know?”
“Well, if you'd have looked a little harder into the eyes of that girl in the mirror, you might have discovered a lesbian staring right back! Instead, it seemed like you were trying to look good for what you thought you wanted. You've always had your own style and on top of things in music and politics and computer stuff. It made things harder for me, in a way. People notice you for your style and personality and confidence. I get noticed for my hair and tits.”
“And your ass. And your legs. And your lips. And your smile. And the way you are thicker than average, but have no rolls, no cellulite, no chub! It's sickening! You have the body of a fertility goddess and you are easily the most beautifully unique looking girl around these parts. I've wanted to be you so long that I didn't know that what I really wanted was to be with you.”
After a happy, deeply thoughtful silence, Grace muttered, “I'm cold.”
“I thought you'd never ask! But, umm... could we lose this harness thing or switch it? I don't think I've ever felt so smooshed down there.” Grace smiled sweetly (my God, she could stop traffic with that smile) and removed the equipment teasingly slowly.
Grace licked the Vixskin dong up the side and licked her lips before popping it into her mouth a couple of times with spit and my juices trailing from the tip before slipping it into herself and adjusting the straps to fit her slightly wider hips. I felt tingling fireworks where just a few moments ago I had been feeling stars of rawness. I wanted her more right now than I did the first time.
We stayed up pleasing each other, sleeping, teasing each other, sleeping, showering together, having shhhh!, and finally got tired enough to start talking again.
“Muh jaw is killing meh,” I bitched.
“Not enough that you won't shut up and let me sleep,” Grace giggled.
I felt like we were 11 again, bugging each other until we fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning.
“So Mew Ling Grace, where'd ya learn ta do tha stuff?”
“Did you just call me 'Mewling'? Ugh. I haven't heard that name since grade school.”
“I tole you my jaw kills! So talk.”
“I haven't done half of this stuff before with anyone but myself. Aren't I a sad picture? A girl has opportunities chasing her all over the place and she's the one to take her own virginity.” Grace looked hard at me, as if to gauge how I might take such news. She didn't want to give me a guilt trip, but I knew she hurt from waiting so long.
“You feel I'm responsible? Is that why you left your classes? Left me?”
“In a way, yes. It seemed like the string of guys would never end and I was hanging on the best I could. You even accused me of being a lesbian a few times and I kept looking at you like, 'Yes! And?', but you turned away every damn time.”
Grace's eyes started filling with hot tears, but she dabbed at her eyes with a towel she'd procured from the shower.
“Grace, honey. I'm sorry. If I knew then what I know now, I never would have teased you and I certainly wouldn't have been dating around, looking for who I'd already loved the whole time! Can you forgive me? I need to be forgiven, because
I don't want nobody baby
If I can't have you
ah — ah — ah — ohhh!”
Grace shook her head at my cheesy “scatalogical” brain and had to laugh. “Of course I forgive you, my love. It's just that it will take time and lots and lots of sex to forget about it.”
I noticed the strained smile at those words, even though they sounded playful. “As your best friend and your official pain in the neck for life, I do solemnly swear to love you until I die, whereupon I will haunt your wrinkly ass for waiting ten extra years to drag me out of the closet and tell me how you felt.”
The smile Grace gave me spoke of hope and satisfaction as she picked up my hand and laced her fingers with mine.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
We were starving. It was 3AM and no one was stirring in the room outside. I brought my hand up to the lock and gently turned it, then pushed down on the handle to open the door.
Beyond, the hall was mostly dark, with a light coming from the kitchen showing me that clean-up hadn't yet been attempted. Behind me, Grace whispered, “Hurry. My tummy's growling bad.”
In the hall, the damage wasn't so bad. The living room was a disaster area. The kitchen was relatively untouched, but a keg dominated the floor in front of the refrigerator. Moving it wasn't an option if stealth was to be an option.
As tired as I was, I couldn't help singing to myself in my elated state:
Things will never be the same again
It's just the beginning, it's not the end
Things will never be the same again
A thought struck me as I headed into the next verse. Will it not be a secret anymore? Certainly not between Grace and I, but by now, most people had to know who had attended the party. Why would I care? I don't, I decided.
With a slight rattle of the doorknob, I came back into the room with a bowl of mostly broken barbecue chips. Grace's eyes narrowed with murderous intent at my failure, but with one arm pulling a dark blue sheet up to her chest, it made her look like she was trying to be sexy. I bit back a giggle at her inability to invoke fear and shrugged apologetically.
Placing the bowl between us and picking around the darkest chips, so as to leave them for Grace, I made an offer: “Let's go to Dab Nabb's and get a bite to eat — my treat — then you can tell me all about where you've been the last month.”
“It's no secret where I've been. I told my family to tell you if anything went wrong or you got too upset. Thank you for trusting me to handle myself.”
“I just thought it odd. You usually tell me when you leave the country and I don't think you've ever left without Chris.”
“Chris wanted to come with, but I didn't go out of the country. Dad is still here. I went to San Francisco.” Grace gauged my my expression before continuing. I gave her a slight cock of my head to show her my interest.
“Dad thought I should spend some time with my Aunt Lia. She was married when she was quite young to a very old man named Johnny Ho. He owns a great deal of real estate in the residential area of Chinatown.”
Bursting with questions, I clung to the easily answerable ones in rapid-fire succession. “You have an aunt in Frisco? I hadn't heard of her before. What's she like? Was it an arranged marriage?”
“She's not anything like I thought she'd be. I thought she'd be miserable married to an old man, but she's quite fit and happy and aside from the diabetes and being an old man, so is he. She manages his properties and takes care of all his needs, but he's only ever touched her once, to consummate the marriage. They've had an agreement about that ever since.”
With a little pondering, she continued, “Lia is 50, so Johnny must be 92. They married when she was 17.”
Flabbergasted, I breathed, “Oh my God. I can't even imagine that happening to me. How has she kept it going all these years? What sort of arrangement do you mean?”
“Aunt Lia is a very strong willed person. She hasn't had any problems. As fate would have it, the two are on opposite ends of the rainbow, if you know what I mean. They sorted that out on their wedding night.”
My hand shot to cover my gasp as the analogy hit me. What a world we live in! “It was an arranged marriage of two...”
Grace nodded and continued for me, “...gay people. Can you imagine?”
“Grace, does this have anything to do with,” I hesitated, “us? By us I mean, tonight?”
“Yes it does. I'm really a bit unsure about how to go over this, but I'd have to tell you sooner or later. However, there is a bit of a problem.” Grace looked at me expectantly as she rubbed her tummy.
“Oh! You're starving. I'm starving. Let's get you dressed and—- and-— Is that delicious dreamwear all you have for clothing?”
Grace gave her usual, uplifting, diaphragm-fueled laugh. “No, you nerd. Chris brought a change of clothes for me. We just have to find him, though he's not expecting to see either of us until daybreak at least.”
“Be right back, then.”
I made my way back out into the hall, then picked my way among the cups and paper plates until I reached the bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was closed, so I knocked lightly as I slowly opened it. No one was inside, but there was a duffel bag at the end of the bed. I took it and made my way back, holding it up for Grace as I entered. Her smile told me I had the right object, so I closed the door behind me.
“Grace, your brother wasn't there when I got this.”
“He wasn't? He was supposed to stay with Justine. That was the plan, anyhow. You certain?”
I nodded and Grace gave a look of mild concern. Considering the circumstances, I can understand why she hurried to get dressed, but damn if I wasn't disappointed.
We both went to the bedroom at the end of the hall where I had closed the door behind me. She tapped with her nails a little loudly and there were a few muffled vocalizations. We opened the door to find Chris hopping toward the master bathroom by the light of the hallway with a shit-eating grin on his face and Justine's camisole and boy short panties on.
We looked at each other with shock, until my eyes drew into dark, suspicious slits with Grace's doing the same as we realized Justine was nowhere to be seen in the room.
“Chris! What is going on here?” Grace demanded.
The bathroom door was closed and locked before we could get to it. Grace raised her fist to pound on the door when we heard Justine say, “No. Don't.” Her voice had come from behind us and was quite muffled.
Justine rose out from behind the bed, with only her bra and panties on and a look of resignation on her face. We just stared and waited. Well, I did. Grace backed against the bedroom door and slid to the floor, never closing her mouth once.
Comments
Wow, Thanks,
I needed that. Shweuuu... I just commented on "the witches tarot" yesterday that I was horny. and a dirty old womyn.
Yes, we are barely holding above "lesbian bed death" levels; second time this year was just a few weeks ago. Of course, I'm hornier now, a few weeks after, than I was, say 6 weeks ago. Ya know?
Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee
Ready for work, 1992.
Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee
I would like to add this, my sweet friend...
After your comment, I think your caption might more correctly read,
"2009 - ready for a hell of a lot more than work!!!!" Love that smile.
And before I forget, sorry, NICE STORY, my dear sister Eclectic Kitty.
Do you have a diminutive you prefer or will EK or Kitty do?
Either way, excellent story!
She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Tutto il mio apprezzamento, cari, Andrea
Love, Andrea Lena
Thank you!
I hope you all continue to enjoy my story. Some fun awaits you in the coming week.
EKitty is my usual chatting nick. However, just like polar bears, I'd also respond to "Glad Ass" or "Hey you!"
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
Glad to help out a womyn in need.
More to come soon, but it may be a little bit before it gets this racy again. I'll try to 'keep the O rolling.' 8D
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
my my
This is an unusual story, but girl you do have a way with language. Some of the lines in here are classic with a definite touch of the risque, perfectly fine. Other than the seemingly obvious I'm not sure where this is going but I'll follow along. String of pearls eh, pick them up in 'frisco?
Kristina
No comment.
No, I'm just kidding. Maybe a small comment on 'Frisco: Though Siobhan's reminiscences are nearly done, when I pick up the present again, life will become more interesting for the whole group of friends and their families.
"May you live in interesting times." - (Not So) Ancient (Not So) Chinese Curse
Life rarely seems to go according to plan and String of Pearls will hopefully be no exception. If you hang on tight, I promise to make the ride worthwhile. 8)
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
Hi, EK
Welcome into the BC writer's gang. String of Pearls is brilliant. It's a real challenge to write a sort of diary, or chronology, and you've nailed it. You write really well, with authentic presence for HK, Santa Clara, etc. Your way with words levels up the page, so to speak. Looking forward to learning more about Cretein. Daphne
Daphne
Thank you for the warm welcome.
Your words of praise fill my sails of inspiration. I shall endeavo(u)r to rise to the level of writing I have found here at BC as best as I can.
It has been challenging to keep all the events in line within my head, so I took Mom's suggestion to heart and wrote out an outline that will affect the content beyond my current buffer. That means faster writing! Go figure. (grumble, grumble) Stinkin' mothers being right about stuff. (grumble, grumble)
Cretein is my dark knight in sexy, glistening armor. And a total pain in the "Arrrrrse". Love him. He and Justine will be getting their own time in the spotlight not too long from now.
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
- Eclectic Kitty
Oh, that magic feeling - nowhere to go.
Excellent!
Good stuff Ekitty.
I'm wrapped.
LOL
Rita
Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)
LoL
Rita