Lying Young (part two)

Info Smokey125
17 Jul. '17

Continued from part one.


Real Wolf

Friday, March 30th, 2012, 7:49 p.m.

The remainder of Dori’s lasagna sat untouched on her plate, getting cold. She no longer possessed the energy or will to return the dishes to the kitchen, or put them away. She only sat motionless in her recliner, paws concealing face, up to her closed eyes. Her father Simon finally reached for one of her hands.

“Dori, please tell us what happened,” he implored.

She only covered her face with the other hand and shook her head.

“Well, if you’re not gonna say a damn word, you can at least finish your dinner,” her now inebriated mother shouted, as if to hear her own slurred words. “Throwing away money or food’s just stupid.”

“Viola, please, stop that,” Simon ordered. “She’s clearly upset enough already.” He turned back to his daughter.

“Dori, whatever it is, you can tell us. C’mon.”

Dori dropped her other hand with a sigh, revealing her distraught, tear-verging eyes.

“…That was the Publisher’s Clearinghouse.”

Viola said an unpleasant word Dori would prefer not to hear at a moment like this.

“A’right, c’mon. The truth now.”

“Okay. Okay…” Dori took a few more breaths.

“…I’m dying.”

Simon let his eyes open wide and his mouth descend ajar at the horrific declaration. He placed his free hand to his chin.

“It-it was Dr. Bixby,” Dori went on. “He, uh…he said there was one thing about my physical that had him worried. He told me when I was there that he was sure I was fine. But, uh…”

She almost broke into tears, but held together.

“…He said he double-, triple- and quadruple-checked, and, well, he just told me now, it…” She shrugged.

“…Turns out he was wrong.”

“What does that mean??” Simon demanded to know.

Dori covered her face once more and sniffled. She answered, but they couldn’t quite hear her.

“What, babe?” asked Simon.

“Speak the hell up, Dori,” admonished Viola.

“A tumor, okay?! He found a brain tumor! I have a brain tumor!”

Her parents displayed two very contrasting reactions. Simon began shaking his head.

“But…but, you’re…you’re only 20 years old!” he stated in disbelief. “Are—…aren’t you…too young for something like that to happen?”

“He knows, Dad, he knows!” Dori insisted. “But he said age doesn’t matter. He said this happens to people as early as their teens.”

She looked down at her lap. A single first tear plinked the hem of her dress.

“What he didn’t say was why me.”

“Oh, God,” Simon lamented, as something in his mind clicked. “The migraines.”

Dori nodded. “Yup; he said he should’ve caught that sooner. But sometimes you just dunno till it’s too late.” She gave a dry, scoffing chuckle. “What a run, huh? Twenty whole years.”

“But…you mean he can’t treat it now?” asked her Dad.

“He wants me in the hospital first chance I get. And they’re gonna do everything they can, but he said it doesn’t look great. He said…”

She sniffled, brushing and pawing away more tears.

“…He said I’ve probably got…six months. If that.”

Simon started shaking his head again, slowly at first, then quickly and more vehemently.

“No…no, no, Dori, this isn’t happening. This isn’t right. This has to be some sort of mistake!”

“Dad, it’s no mistake!” she told him. “He said he checked, checked, checked and re-checked every diagnosis he’d made a dozen times! It’s the real thing. I’m gonna die! I’m…I’m…”

Dori flashed on what she’d just said. A chill engulfed her as it sank in.

“…I am really dying.”

For a few moments, no one could say anything. Simon was impossibly stunned. Dori felt numb. And she couldn’t help but notice that her mother had remained uncharacteristically silent the last little while.

“…M-Mom?” she finally asked, courage mustered.

Viola wouldn’t seem to look at her. She stared off inscrutably in a different direction. Dori gave another discreet prod.

“Aren’t you gonna s—…say anything?”

Viola’s eyes shifted in Dori’s direction. Her vision of her daughter was fuzzy, and her speech a bit garbled. But there was no mistaking the certainty of her tone. She spoke.

“Dori Young…” she uttered, in a quiet, very ominous voice…

“…That is not goddamn funny.”

The words pierced Dori like a dagger through the soul. It was now she who couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Her ears or brain had to have been playing a trick on her.


“Viola! What in the hell is wrong with you?!” Simon hollered at her, as if he didn’t know.

Viola’s wobbly voice remained loud, and intensified in hostility as well.

“You’ve pulled some fast ones before, little lady, but this; I can’t even believe you’d wait so long to try to put this over on us.”

“Viola, stop it, damn it!” her father again ranted, losing control himself. “Look at her tears! She’s a compulsive liar, not Meryl Streep!”

Dori’s indeed tearful eyes had turned to utter consternation by her mother’s accusations.

“Mom, you…you don’t believe me?”

Simon turned back to her. “Of course she does, Dori. She’s just drunk. It’s that damn wine. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

Viola stood from her seat, demonstrating that her balance was about as wobbly as her voice.

“Hey. Lemme tell you something, lady. I believed you when you ‘broke your leg’ on the playground in second grade.”

“Viola, that actually happe—” Simon started to shout at her.

“I’m not finished! I believed you when you ‘burned yourself’ on the workshop lamp. I even believed that bit about your ‘headaches’ all those years. Well, forget it, daughter. Enough of this. You cried wolf one goddamn time too many; you are not gonna get me again.”

Simon leapt up beside her. “That’s it! I’m not putting up with this one more second. Viola, get outside, I’m taking you to the car. I am so sorry about this, Dori. Listen, I’ll be back in a sec. I’m just gonna get her in the car, then I’ll come right back. Excuse us.”

Fortunately, Simon knew Viola’s limits when it came to drinking, and that she hadn’t much more energy. She’d fall asleep soon. So he marched her down the staircases out to the car, placed her inside, belted her in and instructed her to stay. Several moments later, Dori saw a tear-blurred image of the door opening, and her Dad stepping back in alone. He approached, embraced her and kissed her head.

Dori shook said head, unable to swallow it. “…She didn’t believe me.”

“Oh, sweetie…” Simon sighed, breaking the hug to look her tenderly in the eyes. “You know how your mother gets when she drinks. And all she could think about was all the times you’ve lied to her before.”

Almost afraid to ask this question, Dori blinked, and sniffled out, “You…you believe me, don’t you, Dad?”

“Babe, of course I do! Your Mom does too. She just doesn’t realize it. I just can’t believe this situation. I can’t believe what’s happening!”

“Neither can I! I…”

Dori suddenly let it all loose. A wave of wracking sobs broke from her.

“This is my worst nightmare! It’s like my biggest fear in the world! Dad, I…I don’t wanna die!” she bawled, clutching Simon, burying her face in his chest. “What’m I gonna do??!”

“Dori…sweetheart…” he began, feeling his heart all but literally shredded by his daughter’s pain. He groped for words, nearing tears himself, not quite knowing what to say. He kissed the top of her head once more.

“If…listen to me, honey. If nothing else, if absolutely nothing else…you just live. You live your life, and you do the things you’ve always wanted to do. Believe me, babe, this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say, but…”

He tried to be strong for Dori, and hold back his own sniffles.

“…However long we have left, we have to make every day count. And in the meantime, we’ll make sure Bix does every last thing in his power he can. And whatever happens, we just do what we’ve always told you.”

Dori nodded. “Go with the flow,” she uttered.

“That’s right. Because?”

Dori had frankly always found this philosophy a bit corny, but right now, she was willing to cling to any words of hope available.

“Because no matter how much time goes by…”

Simon finished with her.

“…We’ll always be Young at heart.”

“And don’t worry about your mother,” he added. “We’ve gotten through rockier times before. You just take care of yourself. Just be happy, sweetie. If you can smile every day, then your life’s been truly blessed. Whether it’s two years, two decades or two centuries.”

Even though the last thing Dori felt she could do right now was smile, his words really did make her feel better. She kissed his cheek.

“I’m glad you’re here, Dad.”


Growth On The Brain, Life On The Line

Saturday, March 31st, 2012, 4:27 p.m.

A bit shy of twenty-four hours later—following a call in to work with a vague (honest) indication that she’d be taking some serious time off—Dori made her way to the medical center. Once admitted, she was shown to a room, and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She waited anxiously for the family practitioner Dr. Patrick Bixby to return. She performed idle projects: twiddling her thumbs, crossing her ankles, crossing them the other way, checking the time, et cetera. When at last Bix did give the door a quick knock and reentered with her chart, Dori bolted up, sprang off the bed and seized him by his white coat lapels.

“What? What?? What?? WHAT??!” she manically cried.

“All right, now, Dori, please settle down a second,” the doc told her.

“‘Settle down??” Dori unhanded him and turned to an imaginary companion. “‘Settle down,’ he says!”

“Dori, I just need you to calm down a little for me, so I can tell you what I need to say.”

“Doc, if this whole thing’s an early April Fool’s joke, I am gonna be so upset.”

Dori’s ironic tension-breaker aside, Bix managed to silence her for the moment. Dori about-faced and climbed back into bed.

“Now Dori, there’s no point in beating around this particular bush. You have a brain tumor.”

Dori let her head drop.

“Tell me something you haven’t told me already!” she pleaded. “I’d prefer good, but at this point I’ll take neutral. Tell me about your vacation in Hawaii. Tell me your cousin’s in town from Vancouver. Tell me you had mung beans for supper. Anything. But yes, doc, yes, I know what I have back there!”

“A’right. You’re gonna stay over starting tonight. Then treatment begins. Now, you know I’m just your general practitioner. So while I won’t be performing the surgery myself, I’ll see to it that you’re under the care of the finest neurosurgeons we’ve got.”

“Dr. Bix…level with me.” She sighed, shut her eyes and asked the next question.

“What’re my real chances?”

“I’ve gotta be honest with you, Dori…”

“Oh, great. No good sentence ever started with those words.”

“Lemme put it to you this way: if we pull you through this, I recommend the first thing you do’s buy a lottery ticket.”

“Ooh, I love the sound of that.”

“I’m being straightforward with you because I need you to give us what help you can, Dori. Here’s the good news: there is a chance. It’s small, but it’s there. And it relies on your strength as well as on us.”

Dori exhaled, trying to maintain composure. “Okay.”

“A’right. I’ve made your folks aware you’ll be with us indefinitely. Your, um…your mother apparently remembered what she said to you the other night. And…she mentioned something about never forgiving herself for it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, if you talk to her again, please tell her I hope it burns like hell on her conscience forever.”

“Translation: you forgive her?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that. So…is there anything else I can do for you?”

“You mean besides save my life?”

Bixby joined her in a moment of silent empathy. He felt terrible for her. He wished more than anything he could say it would all be okay, that they’d pull her through this. And while he had the utmost confidence in his colleagues and their finesse, he’d indeed been honest with her. It didn’t look good. But Dori knew this already. She realized, and had begun coming to grips with the fact that she’d most likely have to face her worst fear, in as soon as six short months. There was so much she hadn’t done. So much she’d planned for her future. So many regrets, so much lost time. The optimistic part of her told her this could actually almost be sort of exciting, in a way…afterlife, possible reincarnation, who knew. But Dori didn’t want a new life, no matter how fresh or pure. She liked this life. She all but loved it. She didn’t want to say goodbye. She felt Dr. Bixby give her shoulder a squeeze.

“Okay. Be strong, kiddo. Get some rest.” He turned to leave her be.

“Wait. Doc, uh…just F.M.I., how late are visiting hours?”


Dori thanked him and let him go. She snatched her purse from beside the bed and started rummaging. A short spell later, she found it. She activated her cell, dialed the number, and waited with fond hope.

Click. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi…um…it’s me, Marla.”


Deb And Flow

Saturday, March 31st, 2012, 10:36 p.m.

With her parents having brought some things—including an affection-caked apology from her sober Mom—and leaving her to rest a while ago, Dori was wishing they hadn’t gone. She was lonely, but her therapist and confidant Dr. Deborah Morelli was now coming. She’d had some things to take care of first, giving Dori time to change into a pair of her snazzy jammies and settle in. However, putting on pajamas and settling in took the lass barely three minutes. Then she had to pass time by reading, playing solitaire, or daydreaming about the beautiful Lesley Claire Walker. They’d only gotten to see one another those few times. Dori hadn’t told her, because she couldn’t bear to make the lovely girl sad. That was, if Lesley cared enough about her to become that sad. Dori just didn’t want Lesley to get the idea that she wasn’t interested, and that that was why she hadn’t heard from her since. She was very interested in possibly pursuing things with Lesley. It was just…this one pesky little thing standing in her way.

She had Lesley’s number too in here somewhere, but no idea what to say if she tried calling her. It was pretty late tonight anyway. She ought to just wait for Dr. Debbie this evening. Shortly past 10:30, after reading one more book and wondering if she could bang out any sort of memoir in six months, another knock came at the door. “Visitor!” came the faint, friendly voice from behind.

Dori worked up a small smile. “I want you to go away,” she affably called back.

“You certainly don’t.”

“Of course I don’t. Come on in.”

Dr. Morelli was shown in by a nurse who was somewhat confused as to whether the patient indeed wanted to see her or not. But in she strolled, putting a happier look on Dori’s face. The nurse withdrew and shut the door.

“Hey, Marla Rose,” greeted her therapist, giving her a wink as she pulled up a chair. “I’ll kindly skip the ‘how’re you feeling’ part.”

Dori chuckled dryly. “Thanks so much for coming, doc. Really, I know I’ve only seen you twice, but I already like you a whole lot, and…”

She sniffled.

“Okay, that may’ve been a little much right off the bat. But I figure I better tell everyone how much they really mean to me while I still have the chance. My parents were with me for a while before, and now I wish they still were. Even though I know they’ve had a long day and they’re tired. I’m tired too, but I was still pretty lonely. I really wanted to be with a friend. And…” She paused for another sincere and sentimental beat. “I hope you don’t mind me thinking of you as my friend.”

“Of course not, kiddo. And glad to be of service. Besides, it’s hard to conduct a decent therapy session on the phone.”

“Oh, thanks, Dr. M., but I don’t think I want therapy right now…even if it is free,” Dori joked. “I kinda just wanna chat.”

“All right, sure. And by the way, you can call me Debbie. Inside my office, I have to be Dr. Morelli. Anywhere else, I can be your buddy.”

“Okay, well…can we still keep things just between us?”

“Most certainly. We’ll let the formality slide, but yes; we’ll stand fast on the confidentiality.”

“Cool…” Dori stretched out horizontally on her side, cuddled a stuffed animal her folks had brought, and rested her head on the pillow. Even though it wasn’t a session, she liked being able to simulate the couch with this bed, having Debbie sit nearby.

“Well, Debs…” Sigh. “I’ve had a lotta time to let this whole thing sink in. But the truth is, I’m still…kinda in shock over it. And, I’m…”

She paused to somberly swallow.

“Doc—er, Debbie…I’m really sad and scared. I mean, like, y’know, ‘you have no idea’ sad and scared. And, well…can you blame me? There was so much I wanted to do. It-it feels like I’m being ultimately…well, screwed. And cheated. It’s just so unfair! I don’t wanna sound selfish or whiny, but for heck’s sake! I…I-I can’t help it; I want my life back! The first decade was…okay, I guess, but my teens really kinda sucked. And now I’m independent and happy, I’m a grown woman, I love my job, and-and…now it’s all being taken away from me! I know how young I am—trust me, I really friggin’ do—but it took me a long, hard time to find the Dori I am today. And call me crazy, but I’ve gotten attached to her, dang it! I like this lady! I love myself, and n—oh, God. I haven’t even gotten to this part yet.

“Now I meet Lesley, that beautiful, awesome girl I told you about last time. I actually finally meet someone I might want a real future with. I’ve only seen her two or three times, but other than…this whole thing, she’s all I can think about! I mean…I know I already said it before, but this is so not fair. For God’s sake, Debbie, I don’t even have anyone to give my stuff to!”

Debbie nodded. “I know, Dori. And I know how much it hurts. Take it from me, I’m well aware of how you feel.”

“How could anyone alive know how this could feel right now??”

She felt the therapist reach out and give her arm a gentle pat. The next thing Dori heard her say undeniably surprised her.

“…Dori, I’ve been there.”

Dori looked up after a moment to meet her eyes.

“Say what now?”

Debbie looked off in another direction with an odd smirk.

“Eight years ago. A cold winter day I’ll never forget. Death had me chained to its front door.”

“What happened?”

“Turns out, Dori, I had a heart condition in my 20s. The entire decade was a nightmare. And I knew I couldn’t keep running away from it forever. Then one night, a few days before Christmas…”

She paused, letting go of a silent sigh. Dori filled in the blank.

“…It caught up?”

Deb palmed her own cheek, returning her eyes to Dori.

“All I can remember’s a few blurry seconds in an ambulance. And a distorted sound of a siren in my ears. The horrible beeping, doctors all mumbling to each other…I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying. If I had any energy, I’d have been going nuts.”

Dori propped herself up on her elbow. “So what happened then?”

“I have to assume they tried to defibrillate me and shock me back to life. But it must not’ve worked. Because…

“…I died. For a very short time, my life technically ended. It all happened so suddenly, I wouldn’t have even known. Except…”

“Except what?”

“Well…the doctors didn’t even believe me when I told them. But for a few seconds…I was brought somewhere else. Now that I think about it, I guess you can’t believe it unless it happens to you. But for me, Dori…” She shook her head. “Nothing’s ever been clearer.”

Dori sat up a bit, more intrigued. “Did you go to heaven?”

Debbie thought hard, trying to recall. “I dunno. But I don’t think so. I…it-it didn’t seem like heaven or hell as I’d ever envisioned it. There…wasn’t any bright light, or…omniscient voice or anything, I was just…there.”

“Well…well, did you like it?” Dori asked, growing very curious all of a sudden. “What’d it feel like? What’d you see? What’d you hear?”

“To be honest with you, Dori…” Debbie idly traced a fingertip along the sheet lining her bed, drawing an unidentifiable picture.

“No. I didn’t like it very much. I really don’t think I could see or hear a thing. It was a void. Just…black nothingness. It didn’t feel like anything at all. It just felt…numb.”

This answer seemed to let Dori down a little. She made one paw into a fist and placed her chin on it.

“Geez, I can’t wait to die now.”

Debbie gave a small chuckle. “I’m sorry, Dori. I certainly don’t mean to discourage you.”

Dori couldn’t help but chuckle a bit too. Deb stood and reached into the pocket of her jeans.

“I was just trying to make a point.” She removed a coin to show her. “See this nickel? This nickel saved my life.”

Dori wasn’t sure how to reply. So Debbie smiled and went on.

“The night I found out, I said to myself, this is it. I knew I was looking at a needle-in-a-haystack situation. So I flipped it, and I said, ‘Heads, I go to heaven, tails…I…go somewhere else.’ And it bounced…and it spun…and spun…and just kept spinning.”

Finally, she placed the nickel on the nightstand beside Dori’s bed, on its side. Dori couldn’t help but be a little charmed by it.

“Wow. No way, huh?”

Debbie picked it back up and flipped it a few times.

“Okay, so it wasn’t really what saved my life. But we’ve gotta hold on to those little things, just to believe there is magic out there. I carry this nickel with me wherever I go. Right along with my purse, my keys and my phone. It’s never left my side for eight years.”

“Wow,” Dori repeated. “Bet you were really scared, though, huh?”

“You’re one of the few who could know just how scared.”

“Well, that’s…great, Deb. Y’know, congratulations. I mean, it worked out pretty terrific for you. Unfortunately, eh…”

She smiled ironically. “It doesn’t look too fabulous right now for your new favorite patient.”

“Hey, c’mon now. You never know until you know. Lemme ask you something, Dori…do you believe in magic?”

“Ummm…guess that depends what kinda magic you’re talking about.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t mean big ol’ stagey Copperfield-y production stuff with crews, wires, beautiful assistants and all that. I mean…the strange cosmic forces, events, coincidences we can’t explain. Supernatural stuff that’s just normal enough to actually happen.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I kinda have to.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I suppose what I’m trying to get at is, I know we can’t live forever. But I’m very good at finding a silver lining in sad situations. I’m so sorry this happened to you, Dori, I really am. But I’d like to believe that after our time in this life, anything is possible. I know how awful you feel, my friend. I do. But…who knows what awaits you beyond this? Your next life could be fantastic. You could come back as a beautiful animal, some other wonder of nature, or something in a totally alternate dimension we can’t even imagine. Personally, I’m curious. I never found out what my next life looked like.”

Dori looked down and gave a nod. She had to admit, Deb made some good points. And she was right; she was good at seeing the silver lining. But Dori was still scared and sad. She just wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She told Debbie so, not even feeling the need to lie first.

“It’s okay, Dori,” she consoled, taking Dori’s hand in one of hers and patting it with the other. “It’s all right to feel however you feel. As long as you’re true to those feelings. Please believe me, I understand this feels like the ultimate injustice. I agree with you. It’s not fair. But please try not to worry too much. You’re a nice girl. You have a good heart. And that’s one of the most important things in this world, however long we’re in it. And sometimes we just don’t have any control over what’s happening to us. So just go with the flow.”

Dori looked back up. “Hey, that’s what my Dad always says too.”

“Is it? Well, great minds apparently think alike.”

For the first time in hours and even days, Dori felt like smiling a little. She blinked through some more tears.

“You really are my friend, aren’t you?”

Still holding on to her paw, Debbie turned Dori’s palm up, and placed in it the very same nickel she’d produced earlier. And she then gently closed Dori’s hand around it. Their eyes met, and Dr. Deborah Morelli gave her a smile.

“Or may God strike me dead.”


Unconscious/Subconscious: Dream Or Reality?

date and time unknown

The key clicked in the lock. Dori and Lesley entered single-file, each carrying groceries. They toted them into the kitchen.

“If anyone told me things would turn out like this,” Dori said, “I never would’ve believed them.”

Lesley smirked flirtatiously. “Fibber.”

“You’re right. I knew it all along. Why don’t you get comfy while I put these away? Go ahead, make yourself at home.”

Lesley did as told, flopping down onto Dori’s sofa with her purse and big, full backpack. She unzipped the former, surreptitiously looking down, and a coy smile crept up beneath her nose. She heard the repetitive sounds of bags emptying, and things opened and shut. Making sure she had what she needed, Lesley stood, and began to sneak off to the bathroom.

“Ow!” Dori abruptly groaned. “Dang it!”

“Dori? What’s the matter?”

Not wanting to worry her, Dori was a bit hasty with her answer.

“Uh, nothing! Nothing. Just a, um…some-something fell on my foot.”

“Aw! Want me to kiss it better?”

She thought she heard a new sound. Something that almost sounded like…pills being shaken from a bottle. While curious, Lesley didn’t want to pry. She heard Dori answer.

“Uh…maybe a little later,” she giggled. “But it’s okay. I’m fine now, really.”

Satisfied, Lesley slipped into the john. She stood before the mirror, popped open her lipstick first and began applying.

“Hey, Les?” came Dori’s voice from the kitchen.

Concentrating hard on her lipstick, Lesley answered while still putting it on. “Ehhr?”

There was a pause, as the sounds from the kitchen momentarily stopped.

“…Lesley, are you in the bathroom?”

Lesley paused herself, remembering she was trying to surprise Dori. She stopped to coherently answer.

“Uh, yeah, be right out!”

“Oh. Okay. Well, uh…” Dori put away more items as Lesley hurriedly but thoroughly finished her lipstick. The next “weapon” to come out of her arsenal was powder. Dori called out to her again.

“…I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the Blue Turtle with me Friday night for dinner.”

Lesley halted with her makeup for just a second as her eyes widened.

“…Really? I mean…honestly?”

“Yes. Absolutely. You wanna?”

Lesley was confused why these answers weren’t preceded by compulsive lies. But with such a proposal, she wasn’t about to complain.

“YES!! Oh, Dori, yes! Yes, yes, yes, oh, my goodness gracious, yes!!”

“…Should I take that as a yes?”

A jazzed Lesley began really going at herself with the powder now, topping with cool blush for good measure. Next came eyeshadow.

“Oh my God, I would only positively love to! Oh, Dori, that is the finest restaurant in town!”

“Well, second-finest when my kitchen’s open,” Lesley heard her quip.

Makeup done, Lesley discreetly removed her glasses, and replaced them with contact lenses. She next took the scrunchie out of her hair, tossed and flipped it all over. Finally, she reviewed in the mirror and grinned, blowing herself a smooch. All set to visually rock Dori’s world, she peeked back out to hear the same sounds still coming from the kitchen.

My goodness, thought Lesley. How many groceries did we buy??

Lesley didn’t want to spring her surprise on Dori in the kitchen, while she was still putting things away. She wanted Dori’s full and undivided attention for this. To compound things, she was so excited, she couldn’t wait. Lesley didn’t feel beautiful very often. And one reason was that she seldom had incentive to put on makeup and let her locks loose. She felt hot. And if she knew Dori like she thought she did, Dori’d share her opinion. Unfortunately, her hostess didn’t seem to be in a huge hurry to get the heck back out here. She now appeared to be mixing batter in a bowl.

Lesley didn’t want to just ask Dori point-blank to come out and see her. So it would appear she needed some sort of subterfuge. She looked around the living room. Then her shadowed eyes lit up.

“Ooh! Ooh, Dori!” she called. “Come in here! Something just came on TV! You gotta see this!”

Subterfuge in effect, Lesley proceeded to strike a seductive pose: hand on hip with a sexy, smoky grin.

“I don’t even hear the TV.”

Okay, so this didn’t work like she’d hoped right away. Lesley dropped her pose and pranced over to grab the remote.

“Uh, well, it-it’s on mute!” she announced, turning the set on. “There, see, the sound’s on now! C’mon out and look at this!”

She resumed her spot by the doorway and struck her pose for the second time. But ostensibly very into whatever she was making at the moment, Dori still didn’t come out.

“What’s on?” she asked.

Lesley grew a bit exasperated. She let down the pose, also for the second time, and turned back to the TV.

“Um…it’s, uh…” She finally found the button to tell her what program was on.

“…Courage The Cowardly Dog?”

“Aw, cool!” exclaimed Dori, the cartoon connoisseur. “I love that show!”

Lesley turned back around.

“Really?” She put the remote down and took her spot one more time. “Well, why don’t you just come, on, IN, HERE, and watch it with me?” Cue the pose.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Dori assured her. “I can have the DVR get it.”

This was becoming increasingly frustrating for Lesley. Her subterfuge had proven a bust. She saw that if she wanted this to happen, she’d likely just have to go for the direct approach. She sighed, and almost shouted her next paragraph.

“Dori, would you please just come out here? There stands a matter of some import I should like brought to your attention, preferably face-to-face, and my efforts shall be inexorably futile if you insist on STAYing, in, the KITCHen!

“I love it when you talk like a book, college,” Dori declared. “Okay, hang on, honey, I just gotta toss this in the oven.”

Lesley enunciated each of her words, trying to keep her smiling teeth from clenching.

“Well, do so and come hither!

Another few moments passed, until Lesley’s pose almost started to ache, but she finally got Dori out of the kitchen. She emerged, holding the mixing spoon she’d been stirring with.

“All right, all right. So what’s the big d—”

She at long last looked at Lesley’s face, in all her glory, and dropped the spoon to the floor. She was so wowed, she had to put out a hand to steady herself on the doorway. Lesley’s grin spread, feeling her ego nicely flattered. She provocatively flipped her eyebrows.

“What thinkest thou?” the beautiful bookworm wished to know.

Dori melted at her exquisite new pulchritude. She found herself literally at a loss for words. She did all she could do in the moment to answer her question. She uttered some nonsensical syllables. Lesley raised her eyebrows curiously, then chuckled.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she teased.

Dori finally regained her powers of speech. Her first words were luckily appropriate.

“Oh my God, you are so gorgeous.”

Lesley looked away in mock shyness, turning a bit blushier in her blushy cheeks. She crouched in front of Dori to pick up the spoon.

“Y’know what, cupcake? Let me wash this spoon off. You go ahead, have a seat. Enjoy your spectacle of Courage The Cowardly Dog.”

Lesley headed into the kitchen to do as she said. Dori let go of the wall, then grabbed it again after another moment.

“You know, Dori,” a very pleased and proud Lesley called. “I was thinking, maybe following our repast Friday night, perhaps we could trip some light fantastic at the Crystal Room. How’s that sound?”

What neither girl realized, however, was that Lesley’s surprise proved too overwhelming for Dori’s neurological system. The wild throbbing in her head returned, with a vengeance. It built and built, until finally reaching the breaking point. Dori lost her grip on the wall. Her consciousness gave out. She fainted, collapsing on the floor.

Lesley, who couldn’t hear Dori fall with the water running, was waiting for an answer to her suggestion. But she knew how Dori could suddenly turn shy at such moments, especially with a lie on its way out of her mouth.

“Uh, well, y’know, we don’t have to go dancing, of course. It was just an idea.”

She turned off the water, hearing still no response.

“…Okay, okay, no strap off my backpack. But I’d still like to seize the opportunity to show you my own fancy footwork sometime. I took tap and ballet when I was seven. Did I ever tell you that, Dori?”

There was no answer.

Only a silence, which began to feel eerie.




Conscious: Conquering Miracle

Monday, April 30th, 2012, 11:09 p.m.



For several seconds she couldn’t remember anything. She felt nothing emotionally, mentally or physically. Her vision was fuzzy, as were her powers of cognizant thinking. She thought she detected a light-bathed figure, as her unfocused eyes finally opened.


“No, Dori…it’s not God.”

Something terrifying dawned upon the part of her brain that could think.


“No, no, kiddo.

“It’s me. Bix.”

Dori tried to think. Though she couldn’t do so very well, and though she neither realized it, her head didn’t hurt.

“I don’ un’erstan’…” she stated helplessly, less than able to pronounce some of the letters.

“Aren’…aren’ I dead?”

“Dori,” Dr. Bixby told her—

“This…is one of the moments doctors live for.”

This only confused Dori more. “Huh?”

She thought she saw him perch on the bed with her. And that was tangibly his hand she felt holding her own.

“Believe me, Dori, when I tell you that I can’t even believe it myself.

“But I did tell you there was a chance.”

Dori’s brows rose and eyes opened wide as she began to register what he was saying.

Oh my G—…” she whispered. “You mea—…”

Bix nodded. “You did phenomenally, Dori. And so did our neurosurgeons. You all made a miracle happen these last few weeks.”

The next few short sentences seemed to echo around Dori’s dizzy—but not painful—head indefinitely.

“You made it. You’re okay. You pulled through.

“…You survived.”

The look that eventually melted over Dori’s face had yet to be described in words. She began to euphorically whimper and squeak.

“Oh my God…” she proclaimed, in a hybrid of a murmur and a shriek. “You…you…

“…You gave me my life back.”

Dr. Patrick Bixby let go of her hand. “Well, technically, I didn’t do so much as my colleagues,” he modestly admitted. “But I did take the liberty of contacting your parents and your therapist. They’re all on their way over to see you. I hope that’s all right.”

Dori shook her head, unable to get over it.

“Are you kidding me?” she sobbed, unable to even try to resist the tears. “Of course it’s all right! I’m…I’m alive!”

She turned her misty gaze to the ceiling and cried out with all the joy she could summon.

“I’m alive!

She was still weeping with elation by the time her folks arrived. Dr. Deborah Morelli popped up a few moments later. After both Dori and Bix were showered in as much affection as they could take, Bix gave them all some time together to settle down and visit. But before he left, Dori wanted to say one more thing.

“I can’t even begin to thank you, doc.”

“All in a few weeks’ work, kiddo. I think there is something you could do for your friends and family, though.”

Dori looked around to her Dad Simon, her Mom Viola, and her psychiatrist Debbie, as they all turned her way.

“I…think so too. Okay, guys…” She took a breath.

“No more lying. For once, I don’t feel like I need the rush anymore. I think I’m gonna be feeling a big rush now from just…being alive.”

Simon gave her a hug. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s so great.”

Dori inhaled good and deep again, blinking multiple times. “Wow. That was…easier than I thought,” she remarked.

“Hey, Dr. Bix? Did they, like, take that part of me outta my brain? Like, lobotomize me or something?”

“They did not,” Bix told her truthfully. “That was all you, kiddo. Welcome back.”

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Dori said, “And now that I actually can, I wanna tell you guys how much you mean to me.” She took one more nice deep breath and turned to her folks.

“Mom…Dad…you’ve brought an incredible little girl into this world, who’s grown up to be a bright, successful, all-around fantastic person. Great job, guys.” She paused as she, Simon and Debbie shared a laugh. Dori then turned to Viola.

“And Mom…I forgive you.”

The sober Viola couldn’t laugh. She began to do just the opposite.

“Mom?…Are you crying?”

Viola retrieved some tissues from her purse, dabbed at her eyes and nodded.


“Well, Dori, it seems evident enough to me,” offered Deborah. “If you’ll allow me to jump in here. I’m certain she’s crying tears of joy because her daughter survived this awful trauma. To be frank, I’m surprised we all aren’t shedding tears right now.”

Viola shook her head. “No…no,” she sniffled. “That’s…not it. Of course I’m happy Dori survived. Because…I just couldn’t bear to have my last words to her spoken in such drunken anger and stupidity.”

“But they weren’t your last words, Viola,” Simon reminded her. “We came and visited her when she was brought here, remember?”

“I know, but even so,” Viola lamented. “Simon, if we’d lost her, you don’t know how it would’ve killed me inside. I’d have felt like I helped do her in. Even if realistically I had nothing to do with it. Dori…you may have forgiven me, but I just don’t know if I can forgive myself. I feel like such a terrible mother. Not just for that one night. For all of them. All the abuse and agony I put you and your father through…I’m just glad you’re here today so I can tell you that I’m sorry. Just so sorry.”

“Oh, Mom…” Dori sighed. “It’s okay. You just need some help.”

“You’re right, honey,” said Viola. “You fixed your problem, and now I’m going to fix mine. I’m calling A.A.”

Dori sat up in her bed, held out her arms and beckoned her Mom on in. They embraced.

Things’re gonna be real different,” her mother quietly assured her.

I know, Mom,” Dori murmured back. “I may not say it enough, but I love you so much.

Viola returned the sentiment and resumed her seat beside Simon. Dori could now turn her attention to Debbie.

“Debs…well, hey, great news: now you don’t have to find a new favorite patient! Dr. Debbie, you’re a great friend and confidant, and even more importantly, you’re a terrific therapist who can do cool things for totally brilliant people.”

They giggled again as she thought of something.

“Oh, yeah, and, um…” She reached to open the drawer of her bedside nightstand. “Is it…ah!”

She produced the very same nickel Debbie had given her the several weeks back.

“I, eh, just wanted t—”

“Oh, no, Dori, you keep it. That nickel’s yours. It’s passed through its cycle to guard your life now. I wouldn’t think of taking it back.”

Pause. “Actually, I was just going to ask you if maybe I could keep it,” Dori chuckled. “Thanks!

“Well, uh…I just want you all to know I meant every word I said. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I can’t take life or the people in it for granted. You’re all super special to me, and I appreciate everything you’ve given me more than I can say. And I mean it, you guys; that is the iron-clad honest truth. A hundred and one percent. Or may God st—”

She abruptly stopped, and looked up.

“Uh…on second thought, let’s just leave God outta this.” She chortled together with them again.

“Oh, and Mom, Dad, would you do me a favor, please?”

“Sure, babe, what is it?”

“Stop on the way home and buy me a lottery ticket?”


Romance Rekindled

Friday, July 7th, 2012, 7:25 p.m.

In the following few months, Dori settled back into her happy routine, adding a few hobbies to flavor her leisure time. She took piano lessons and nature walks. She volunteered at a puppy shelter. She started having a regular ice cream cone and walking the nearby bike trail to work it off. She wanted to squeeze every drop out of life she possibly could. And she reconnected with Lesley Walker, indicating in no uncertain terms she was very interested in dating her. To her delight, as her vivid future dream foresaw, Lesley felt the same.

Dori and Lesley’s courtship proceeded at a more or less normal rate, versus the way Dori handled other things in her life. Like, say, jilling off thinking about a girl so soon after meeting her. She didn’t tell Lesley she’d already masturbated to fantasies of her several times since they’d met. But she did tell her about recovering from her brain tumor. She apologized for keeping it secret, but explained she didn’t want to start dating Lesley, get her possibly attached, then have to leave her this way. Lesley understood. She was distressed, almost even terrified to learn of the tumor, but so relieved Dori’d survived it. Dori kindly told her to join the club.

On Friday, May the 18th, one of Dori’s dreams came true. She and Lesley had been out and about a couple of times, but still hadn’t quite entered dating mode. Then on this fateful May day, they decided it was time they had an official date. So they went to the movies, and started to cuddle halfway through. Three-quarters into the film, they took their eyes off the screen and put them on each other, just long enough to take the next step. Their lips met. It was very possibly the happiest moment of Dori’s life to date. Her heart swelled and beamed, as if a halo shone over it. It also made her very glad to be wearing one of her fancy patterned dresses over her red panties. And especially in a large darkened room, where no one could detect her moistening pussy.

While it was their first cinema date, it wasn’t the first time they’d shared a movie. Earlier on in the same merry merry month, Lesley came to the apartment and Dori indeed popped in Stranger Than Fiction for her. Lesley certainly saw what Dori’d meant about Maggie Gyllenhaal’s character, being strong and tough, but also coy and vulnerable—not to mention sexy. Dori realized the film now held an even deeper significance for her, as she’d now seen life—and death—through the eyes of Will Ferrell’s character. His fate had been similarly sealed to imminent demise right up to the end, and he at the last minute was rescued from it as well.

Their encounters to mid-May essentially consisted of hanging out as friends. The second half, which carried them into June, saw the girls take things up a level. More kisses were shared, sprinkled in and around given dates. Dori couldn’t get enough of them. But she remained wary of Lesley noticing what they did to her erogenous zones. She’d no way of knowing if kissing alone had the same effect on Lesley. She really rather doubted it, though. Much as it would please her be it true, she had trouble believing Lesley was going back home after each date, ripping off her garments, and ravaging herself into explosive orgasms too.

Part of Dori felt a little like a horn dog. But it was really only sexual views surrounding her that made her feel that way. Silly societal stigmas aside, “Mistrussbation” (her own secret personal term for it) brought her nothing but joy, delight, and a sore muscle or two. No one could shame her if she wasn’t willing to shame herself. Besides, it felt better than ever. Since recovering from her ailment, her new appreciation for life manifested into a grand enhancement of her senses. Colors were brighter. Food was tastier. Nature looked and smelled more captivating than before. And holding and kissing Lesley Walker set her hormones on fire.

The month of June took them back to each other’s homes to stay later and later before parting. They’d been taking it slow and steady enough. But escalation of affection was getting too enticing to resist. They started engaging in heavier make-out sessions, adding fondling and semi-naughty petting to the mix. Towards the end of this month, things began to grow hot and heavy. But Lesley would let them go no further than third proverbial base. And Dori would admit to herself, Lesley was sending her home or departing for her own home leaving her pretty teased up, hot and bothered. Of course, that could be due in part to the summer solstice. But mostly, she suspected, the increasing burning and yearning to finally get Lesley to that home plate. It was true, she had wanted to take things slow, get to know her, and get some devotion and trust going. Well, now she’d done that. And she’d done a lot of thinking of her first time as well. Now she could barely wait. She was dying for Lesley Walker to walk away with her virginity.

July arrived. Dori was coming up fast on her big 2-1. Lesley wanted to do something special for her, so she brought a sushi tray to the apartment—after being assured that yes, Dori loved sushi. She didn’t know if they could get together for Dori’s actual birthday (or take her to 7-11 for a complimentary Slurpee). So she decided to celebrate with her the Friday before. She’d put on makeup and let her hair free while keeping her glasses on, similarly enchanting Dori’s eyes. The other item Lesley presented did not elicit the same reaction.


Lesley shrugged. “Well, I know technically you’re not 21 yet, but I figured close enough, right? And Burgundy’s awesome with sushi.”

“Um, well, but see, Lesley, the thing is…I really don’t like wine. I…almost kinda hate it, actually.”

Lesley wasn’t sure how to respond at first. “…You’re not lying, are you?”


“Well, at the risk of being…um…have you ever tried it?”

“Technically, no. I poured a little once, but I…couldn’t even get past the smell.”

“Well, that’s not uncommon for a non-drinker. But if you knocked a little back, you might kinda like it.”

Dori looked at the floor.

“Lesley, um…my mother’s an alcoholic. She’s in A.A. now, but until recently…her drinking almost ruined our relationship.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, honey. But it’s not a problem with everyone. Lots of people like me drink ’cause they love the taste and the intoxication. I like it ’cause it makes me feel really good. I’ve only been 21 about four months, but, well, there you go; it didn’t take me long at all.”

“I don’t think it could have that effect on me, Les. I don’t wanna keep bringing her up, but it turned my Mom into a…well, a dick.”

Lesley crinkled her eyebrows. Her voice lowered.

“…Did it make her, uh…I-I mean, did she…um…”

“Well, no. She really just yelled and cursed a lot. When she was sober, she called it her ‘happy juice.’ I kinda had another name for it.”

Lesley gingerly slipped her arms around Dori and gave her a loving, tender hug.

“I’m so sorry, babe. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t get that way at all. But I want you to be as comfy and happy as possible. And we are here for your birthday. I’d never make you drink if you didn’t want to. And, so if you’d prefer, I won’t either.”

Dori hugged back, stroking Lesley’s shoulder blades and hair. “That might not be a bad idea.”

“Okay. Well, then, you won’t have to worry about me getting too horny or handsy. For some reason, wine makes me really hot and, eh…y’know, wet, down there, before I even have to pee. If I had anything to drink tonight, I’d be all over you.”

Still hugging and caressing each other, Dori’s own eyebrows jumped.

“W-well, y’know, Les, maybe I was a little hasty. I mean, you’re a big girl. You’re already 21. And…I don’t wanna treat you like a kid.”

“Hmm…” Lesley broke the hug and stepped back to look into her eyes.

“Okay, well, how about this: maybe…I’ll just have a little. That way, you can get a taste of Tipsy Lesley…uh, no pun intended…”

Oh, what the hell, thought Dori. Go ahead and intend it.

“And if you don’t approve, I won’t bring it over or drink around you anymore.”

So anxious though she was, Dori trusted Lesley at her word, and let her into the kitchen to prepare. She sat to turn on the TV.

“Oh, honey?” she called to Lesley. “Please just be careful around the oven, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” Lesley called back. “Y’got something in there?”

“Uh, well, no. I know this is gonna sound weird, but…I take really special care of my oven, and I just don’t want anything to happen to her. She’s…kinda my baby.”

Lesley giggled good-naturedly. “No worries, doll. Your baby and I’ll be just fine.”



Friday, July 7th, 2012, 9:48 p.m.

Supper was simply sumptuous. Three quarters through, however, Dori stopped noticing. As her lady-friend polished off her Burgundy and still as dexterously fed herself via chopsticks, Dori caught the gist of what she’d told her. Though reluctant to meet Tipsy Lesley, she found little cause for concern on doing so. Lesley’d been telling the truth—which only made sense, having never been a compulsive or other sort of liar in her life. She couldn’t have been less the sort of belligerent or mean drunk that was no longer welcome in Dori’s home. Lesley was spot-on in the description of her fuddled self. She was extra flirty, touchy-feely, and passionate. One point brought a small hiccup out of her, which made her blush and cover her mouth. It was all so cute. Just like Lesley in and of herself.

She scooted in nearer Dori and they fed each other. Mouths full, coy looks and batting eyes were exchanged. Inevitably, Lesley made a move. She took advantage of the fact that Dori was a dress girl, as opposed to a jeans or slacks girl. She let one paw slip over, rest on Dori’s bare thigh, just above the knee, and caress…upwards. She noted that Dori gasped, and dropped her chopsticks. Lesley’s were discarded as well. Neither girl was very hungry anymore…for food.

For just a few moments, Dori wasn’t certain what to do. Her heart raced. Her thigh quivered where Lesley fingered. She felt tingles. She abruptly realized she didn’t know how to carry this act. She’d never done it before. Oh God, she thought. What if I’m no good at this? What if something weird happens and I “can’t” do it? What if I’m so klutzy at it she gets up and leaves? What if

Lesley swooped in to her, seized the nape of Dori’s neck, and kissed her, with searing, fiery passion.

And just as suddenly, every worry in Dori’s mind vanished.

Being a considerate soul even in semi-drunk mode, Lesley’d topped off the last of her wine with a few more chunks of sushi. This was to replace the scent of her breath, and continue to turn Dori on. But even had the alcohol stayed, only half Dori’s mind would’ve noticed. Her attention and faculties were already compromised with Lesley gliding one hand under her dress, along her mostly naked skin. Still wanting to behave like a lady, her paw stayed on the outside. But lady herself or not, Dori was about to manually reroute it.

Both stumbling a bit, they managed to get to their feet. They moved extra slowly, wanting to keep the contact going steadily as possible. Uncountable minutes later, they’d left the grub behind and maneuvered themselves into the bedroom. Dori squeezed hard, just not to let Lesley squirt out of her grasp, as Lesley’d begun reaching around to palm her ass. Dori couldn’t believe it. It was about to happen.

Oh my gosh, she thought as her heart pounded. I’m gonna get laaaaaaaaiiiiid!!

Unbelievably excited, her girl bits were aroused on their own without any attention. Her nipples stuck stiffly out, visibly poking through the dress. Her pussy was on fire, its own moisture all that kept it from bursting into flames. Her clit grew hot and erect as well under the hood. She had to compute all this meant that she was ready.

The girls reached the bed, sat until they no longer needed support, and tumbled in together. The kiss was temporarily broken, but no harm done to the mood. Giggles and coos followed. They resumed, letting manual and pedal digits explore on their own. They lay side by side, kissing, roving fingers over flesh, only brushing by the major-money spots for now. One part of Dori felt it could stay like this forever. The other part was screaming at her to get naked, and get those privates some action already.

“Mm…mmmm…Les?” Dori exhaled between kisses.


“I…mmm…I-I really can’t wait to do this, but…mm…I think there’s something I should tell you.”

What the hell are you doing?? Little Dori silently screamed up at her. I’m dying down here! Lemme out!

Lesley called a halt to the kissing, nuzzling Dori’s nose with her own soft nose tip instead.


“Well, y—…you-you know how I told you I’m a virgin, right?”


“Well, I, uh…I dunno if…if you are too—if you ever told me, I must’ve forgot—but…all I’m saying is I just wanna do this right.”

Lesley smiled, fondling her cheek and jaw.

“No worries, babe. There’s no real totally right or wrong way to do this; we’re all different. No, I’m not a virgin, I’ve done it before. It’ll be okay, I’ll help walk you through it. Your, eh…sexual ‘tour guide,’ so to say. Just do what feels right. And don’t be afraid to tell me if I do something you don’t like, or that overwhelms you. Just go with the flow.”

“Go with the flow”…just like her Dad always told her. Dori politely shoved him out of her mind as now was not the time to think about her father. Nevertheless, it made her feel instantly much more comfortable in bed with Lesley. She really was the right person. She knew just what to say. And Dori knew it would be all right to open up to her. She felt better and more certain already.

Lesley whipped her top off. Her breasts were somewhat diminutive at 34Bs, but Dori wasn’t a sucker for size. Hers were between 35 and 36, the same cup size, so she wasn’t one to boast or compare. Frankly, she was more concerned with Lesley’s pussy: its sensitivity, texture, tightness, flavor…wow. Dori made her own more damp and torrid just thinking about it.

After a very quick time-out, they’d stripped to their underthings. Lesley had taken the liberty of lapping half over Dori and half beside her. As their singeing kisses went on and on, Dori suddenly felt Lesley grip her tits. She gave another gasp, seeing something dance in her closed eyes. She determined if Lesley touched her boobs, she wanted Dori to reciprocate. So she grabbed Lesley’s. She was rewarded with a moan back into her own mouth.

Fortuitously, the bra Dori’d chosen this evening fastened in the front, whereas Lesley’s did in the back. So Dori’s sexual tour guide could do the mammillary honors for the both of them. Dori amused herself, imagining Lesley asking her, “Why does it say, ‘I AM A DIRTY, BAD GIRL, BEING EXPOSED FOR ALL TO SEE,’ and ‘NOW I CANNOT HIDE MY CRIME’” on your tits?”

Lesley then wordlessly indicated to Dori to continue groping and rubbing her girls as she put an end to the kissing, descended over Dori’s boobs, and tongue-bathed them.

For once, Dori didn’t mind at all no longer kissing. This felt amazing. She could lick and suck her own boobs, but didn’t get a lot out of it. Having someone else do it was a different story. Especially as Lesley slicked and swirled her tongue around the hardening nipples…and proceeded to take each, one by one, in between her teeth…grinding back and forth.

Dori shrieked. She squeezed the hell out of Lesley’s breasts in the heat of it all. To her surprise, Lesley didn’t seem to mind, but just encouraged her to go on. The nipple-gnawing almost hurt a little, but remained electrifying. Dori was a little surprised there weren’t actual sparks shooting off of them. She felt Lesley’s stiffen as well between her fingers, which made her feel proud and skilled…or just really liked. Finally, Dori dared to ask her something.


Lesley raised her head, sucked Dori’s lips and tongue through another awe-inspiring kiss, and replied. “Yeah?”

“Can…c-can I please touch your pussy?”

Lesley just flashed a saucy grin at her. She reached to yank her own panties down.

“No need to ask. Just go for it.”

Maintaining eye contact, Dori grinned back at her, and grabbed it. She made Lesley say a very particular word that normally wasn’t uttered in her apartment. But in this context, Dori welcomed it. She tried to spit out some words and convey to Lesley to expose and handle her own cunt, which Lesley picked up with little effort. Dori stroked and rubbed Lesley similar to how she liked it on herself, hoping this was okay by her. It was tricky to discern just how Lesley was doing her, and it wasn’t easy to care, either. Once again, it was her first time, and was it ever exhilarating. Both Doris just loved the attention.

Panties suspended between their ankles but nude otherwise, the lasses traded groans, squeaks, and other wordless forms of approval. Mutual “Mistrussbation” went on several minutes. Then Lesley pulled herself out of the reverie just enough to make an announcement.


Dori realized she was being spoken to. Lesley pressed pause, and pushed herself up to a kneeling position.

“Okay,” she panted, brushing hair back from her sweating face. “Honey, I wanna do this thing with you now, that…well, I’m sure I didn’t invent it, but…I like to call it ‘coochie kissing.’”

Dori thought she liked the sound of that, whatever it was.

It was pretty simple and gayforward, Lesley explained. Thinking Dori might like a demonstration rather than a description, she asked Dori to separate her labia, did so with her own, put her knees under Dori’s thighs, leaned in on her, and pressed their cunt lips good and aggressive. She aligned their ripe pink insides, so that their pussies were essentially French-kissing…and ground on her…up, then down…up, then down…up, then…gasp.

“OH my GOD!” Dori found herself screaming, in a high-pitched voice, like a little girl. This, was, astonishing. Nothing short. Dori Nan Young never knew anything could feel like this. She actually started to cry, as the literally awesome act made her realize she was falling in love with Lesley Walker. And that Lesley must love her as well to bestow such a blessing on her. Maybe her new appreciation for all the wondrous things in life was influenced by surviving her brush with death. But something told her this was more than just mindblowingly great sex. This was…a connection. This was like her fantasies come to life. This was almost…spiritual.

Somehow, while in the midst of their “coochie kissing,” Lesley managed to flex horizontally on her once more. She couldn’t quite reach Dori’s mouth, so she let her head rest just below her breasts. She wanted to see if she could listen to Dori’s heartbeat. She could. It wasn’t difficult. It was thundering in there.

Dori, meanwhile, was going insane with each new “kiss” of their cunt lips. It was to take nothing away from the amazing passion Lesley orchestrated on herself. But Lesley had of course done this before. It was all one thousand percent new for Dori. And the celestial, divine goodness Lesley forced on her was nothing she’d known in her life. She couldn’t do this to herself with her own hands or vibrator. Such must’ve been the wonders of using a playmate, she had to think. It, was, utterly, incredible. She squeezed her teary eyes shut, grimaced in white-hot love, let go of her pussy, seized Lesley by the hair and own nape of her neck, and embraced her head.

Indeed, the girls really no longer needed their hands. So Lesley reached up with hers to take Dori’s arms in their own embrace, and coochie-kissed her into that familiar but yet hidden realm of oblivion. The pleasure exploding throughout Dori was so extreme, so intense, so indescribable, she honestly—new Dori-honestly—could not say if she was cumming or not. She was sure Lesley could determine it, but she couldn’t imagine anything feeling more sublimely perfect anyway. She decided to just revel in it.

Lesley may not have been able to kiss Dori’s face, but kissed her belly and up to between the tits. She couldn’t take much more of this herself, and knew it. Deep down, she also knew something else, as did her own chest-slamming heart. That she too was falling in love with Dori. And Dori her. And that there was no going back from here. After tonight—figuratively speaking—she couldn’t go home.

She felt the rumbling under her. She gasped. It was happening.

“Omigod! Yes, sweetie, cum for me! CUM for me!!

Before Lesley even knew it, she couldn’t keep from cumming either. It was all but unfathomable. They were cumming together. This had never happened to Lesley before, only the few times though she’d made love to someone else. But she had to figure, it was Dori’s first time. The act and the night would be uniquely special for her, no matter what. And she was playing by Lesley’s “rules,” as it were.

After a spell more starblazing, glowing, howling like banshees through their coochie—and now also clit—kissing, they peaked. A little concerned they’d destroyed each other’s eardrums, they came back down, gathering rest, catching audible breath…and it was over. Done. An earthshattering orgasm each—all either could take for similar reasons—and they lay motionless together, leaving behind a bedsheet splashed with mixed 21-year-old girl cum. With Dori now under the influence of afterglow, and Lesley under that of both afterglow and Burgundy wine, they were ready for a nice, deep, dreamy sleep. Lesley rolled off Dori and fell beside her.


“Yeah, Dore?”

“…I love you.”

“…I love you too.”

An immeasurable number of hours later, Dori woke up by herself, at least for a couple minutes. At first disoriented, she wasn’t sure who or where she was, or what was going on. Then she realized Lesley was holding and snuggling her from behind. And that everything was okay. She rubbed her foot over the still wet spot on the bed that reminded her of their wild escapade, and smiled. She placed her own paws over Lesley’s embracing hand and arm.

Oh my God, she thought, almost weeping again. I can’t believe how lucky I am. Happy Birthday to me, and to my pussy. “Cliterally.” I feel reborn with new life. I’ve been given a second chance. I’m alive again. And I’m in love. Happy Birthday, Dori, and a ton more.

And thinking back on her beloved time with Lesley, from the day she’d popped up at her door with her college catalogues, to their first dates, to all that had led them here tonight, having officially declared their feelings together, full of happiness…she fell back to sleep.