Friends And Live-Ins

Originally published August 2016 as Smokey Saga #66


Okay, please be forewarned—twice—my friends, vis-à-vis this story. It’s a good one, but first of all, it’s lengthy. Probably even a bit lengthier than “Come Out, Come Out…”. I split this up into two more or less equal parts on Literotica, where one page can only be so long. Whereas here on NT, the entire story gets its own page, which I kind of prefer, just between you and me. So if you need a little break at any point, please, by all means. (F.Y.I., part 2 on Lit starts at the segment entitled “My Dinner With Dora.”) Second warning: though this is a very touching story, its first sex scene—while involving no BDSMwell, at least no B—is quite rough. So you’ll want to know that going in. And do remember as well, Readers: your feedback is always very welcomed, valued and appreciated.


Bon *Sniffle* Voyage

Saturday, July 23rd, 2016, 1:20 p.m.

Dora Cunningham brought her food trays to the coffee table. She put the finishing touches on preparation, trying to keep her emotions in check. She looked around. The banner was in place. The room was cornered in balloons. The guests would start arriving any moment. And the woman of honor was to be nowhere near the apartment until 2:30.

Her longtime roommate and best friend Susanna had accepted a prestigious new job in Madison. It broke her heart to leave Dora, but the opportunity was far too rewarding to turn down. Dora of course wanted her to be as happy and fulfilled as possible, and supported her decision to go. In fact, she persuaded her. Susanna was concerned it might be rough for Dora on her own.

“Oh, babe, I’ll be fine,” Dora’d assured her. “I can find another roommate. You have to do this; it’s your success. You’ve worked so hard, and you owe it to yourself. You deserve it. Trust me, the only thing that’ll be rough on me’s how much I’m gonna miss ya.”

It was true; Susie hadn’t left yet, didn’t even know about the surprise party, and Dora missed her already. Her new job started Monday, August the 1st, and she was to depart for Wisconsin the 27th. Just enough time to arrive at her hotel, settle in and start earning a sweet inflated salary while making permanent arrangements. And they’d maintain online contact until they got a chance to visit in person.

Knock-knock-knock! The first guest(s) had arrived. Dora’s heart jumped a bit. She pranced on tippy-toe to the door and peeped through. It was her parents, bearing their culinary contribution. She exhaled in relief.

Susanna, who worked shorter hours Saturdays, usually arrived home from her office around 2:30, today being no exception. So Dora’d asked everyone attending to please try and make it by 1:30(-ish)—2:00 the latest—in case Susie was early. Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham were typically pretty punctual. Dora’s brother Mikey, on the other hand, was habitually tardy. Today, she hoped, just not too much.

In due order, Susie’s parents arrived as well, followed by their solo and mutual friends, and God bless him, Mikey walked through the door at 1:59. The coffee table was now cluttered in snacks and gifts. The apartment wasn’t enormous, which was why Dora and Susanna didn’t do a wealth of entertaining. Today, however, was a special occasion. Dora’d scooted some furniture around, moved an appliance here and there, set up some extra chairs, done everything she could to open up the space. Once everyone had arrived, she surveyed the apartment. It wasn’t overly cramped, and people seemed to be able to mingle and move about okay.

Now all they needed was the guest of honor. It was a few minutes past 2:00. Dora looked out the window, and saw no sign of Susanna’s return just yet. She was probably just getting off. Dora grabbed a glass and spoon, and tapped out a nice sharp “Shave And A Haircut.”

“Ahem!” she called. “Attention, please!

“Thanks, everyone, so much for coming, and being timely. I’m guessing Susie’s just on her way now, so I’ll keep watching for her, and when she gets here, why don’t we all just stand where we are, and yell surprise. No need to try and hide behind anything.”

The party went off without a single virtual hitch. Dora spotted Susanna parking and exiting her car, all guests took position, and no good “SURPRISE!!”s were wasted. The innocent Susanna Feldman was legitimately—but only figuratively—knocked off her feet. She was dearly touched by the party and presents, the guests and hostess enjoyed themselves the same, and to top it off, they watched the Twins win one more game for Minnesota while Susanna was still here. The bash was a sheer success.

“Okay, everybody,” Dora announced after supper, calling again for their guests’ attention. “At this point I’d like to call upon anyone who’d like to make a toast to Susie, and share a few words. So who wants to go first?”

Susie sat to hear everyone, and was about moved to tears by the time the fifth or sixth person spoke. Dora waited as glasses were raised again and again, wanting herself to be the last to toast. After everyone else was finished, she stood with her own glass.

“Okay,” she exhaled. “Here goes…now, I’m gonna try and do this without bursting into tears,” she warned the others with a chuckle.

“Well, Susie…gosh, where to begin…what can I even say? Susie, you’re the sister I never had. We’ve known each other since…since, well…birth, practically. You’re my all-star pal, my B.M.F.F.F…” She paused to giggle with the others. “…My partner in crime, my fair- and stormy-weather amiga. There aren’t enough words to describe how much you mean to me, but I’m gonna try anyway. Susie, babe, I think we can all agree what you’re doing is just so great, and I know it’s right too. I’m not saying all of us won’t miss you like crazy, but I am saying that I’d go through hell to make your dreams come true. Fortunately, I didn’t have to do that this time, but, eh…”

She paused for the next short spell of laughter. “…I’m just so excited, Suse, that you’re moving on to bigger, better things like this. It’s the kinda thing that takes real courage. Passion. Enthusiasm. And as long as I’ve known you, Susie, you’ve had those markets cornered. I know you’re gonna make a success of yourself. I don’t mean to put pressure on ya, but I have all the confidence in the world in you, and more. I’d like to think I know you as well or better than most of us in this room—uh, well, with two obvious exceptions over there, of course, Mr. and Mrs. F. But I know you as well as you know me. And I know if it was me going out there, you’d be just as thrilled for me, without a hint of resentment or envy. I’m purely happy for you, and nothing but. Go kick some Madison ass, girl. One more time, to Susanna Ari Feldman…I love you so much. God bless you. Here, here!”

A few hours later, the last of their guests headed off, bidding Susie farewell and best o’ luck. This left only the two roomies in the apartment like usual…or at least what used to be. Susanna insisted on helping clean up, even after Dora lost count of how many times she’d told her she didn’t have to. But it was still Susie’s home too for the time being, and she did still wish to take care of it.

“Dore, ’dyou really mean all that stuff you said about me tonight?”

“What, you mean in the toast? ’Course I did, Susie! I meant it all, every syllable! And more.”

Susanna chuckled. “There’s more?”

“Well…babe, of course there’s more…I mean, if you scrape up everything that’s ever been said about two true-blue best buddies…I think most if not all of it would apply to how I feel about ya.”

“Wow…hey, Dora?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you too.”

“Awww!...” Dora hugged her extra tight and snug. “I really am gonna miss the hell outta you, Suse. But hey, listen. Again, don’t you let that even for one second influence your decision to go. Opportunity knocked on your door, you were there to answer. It might knock on mine one day too. ’Course, at least for another couple days, your door still is my door…”

Susanna laughed. “No worries; I’m definitely going. Everything’s already arranged.”

They finished tidying up, plopped together on the couch and flipped the TV back on. It went without saying they wanted to squeeze all the togetherness they could out of these last three days, even if Dora had to spend two of them at work. But she’d taken Wednesday off, so she could drive Susie to the train station, and then go about advertising for a new roomie. She wasn’t wild about the idea of replacing Susie so soon, but she did still have a lease, and needed help making the full rent. And quite frankly, she didn’t want to think about this while Susanna was still here with her. She just wanted to enjoy her company this last half-week.

But soon and sure enough, along came Wednesday. The girls checked numerous times to make sure Susanna hadn’t forgotten anything, and finally piled into the car, trying to push back their tears. Dora drove, trying in her mind to stretch this into the longest ride she’d ever take, but she couldn’t stall. Susie’s train left at 9:00 sharp. Dora couldn’t allow her to miss it.

Finally, she parked, vacating to escort Susie to the platform. They reclasped hands and strode the last ninety yards on foot, fingers interlocked. Finally, Susie retrieved her ticket, and they embraced on the platform.

“Oh, God,” Dora wept. “Susie, I don’t wanna cry…”

“Go ahead,” Susanna sniffled, rubbing her back. “Just let it all out. Let it all right out. I’m already starting to.”


There was the train. Right on time. It halted, opened, and all four eyes went wet and glassy.

“Oh, God,” Dora repeated. “Remember, you gotta message me as often as you can!”

“Count on it. Dore, I love you so much. Everything’s gonna be fine. Buh-bye, buddy!”

“Buh-bye, babe!”

Susanna boarded with her fellow passengers, and Dora watched the door finally pull shut again.

God bless, Susie, she thought, waving after the train, until it became nothing more than a vanishing dot on the horizon.

Knock ’em dead for me.



Wednesday, July 27th, 2016, 10:33 a.m.

Dora lost little time advertising for a new roomie after returning home. She had a decent pile of cash in her account, but after handling rent on her own for a mere few months, she’d be in financial straits. And as much as she didn’t want to ask her folks for help, she’d want even less to have to move back in with them. They were lovely people, who’d raised one beautiful son and daughter each, and Dora was certain they’d love having her at home again. However…accustomed to her grown-up lifestyle and routines, the question now was whether dear old Mom and Dad could get used to it. On the other hand, if she wanted her apartment situation to work out, she’d need her new roomie to respect her quirks and her space. And she’d obviously return these courtesies herself.

For one thing, Dora was a night owl. She worked ten-to-six weekdays in the office of one of Juniper’s leading geriatricians, and took great enjoyment in the flexibility of the schedule. There were a couple of other receps on staff, so as long as one of them could open, handling the really early hours, Dora could arrive, take it from there, and close after they left. Otherwise, she loved to stay up. This was one of her favorite things about being an adult: the dissolution of any established bedtime set by someone else. Dora was never the sort to fall asleep immediately anyhow, and frankly wished she didn’t have to. There was just so much to do. Her hobbies included—but were hardly limited to—reading, playing jacks, practicing magic tricks, and all sorts of computer projects. Some of these pursuits ate up much more leisure time than others. When bedtime did inevitably come each night, Dora jammied up, flipped on the TV, and found something soothing and pleasant to lull her down.

Then there was her real passion, which she hoped to be able to make into a career one day: drawing. At least once or twice a week, she liked to take a sketchpad to the park, the pond, her old campus, any outdoor setting, and let inspiration strike. Who knew what would end up on the paper—a rendering of natural surroundings, the profile of any random passer-by, a tribute to architectural design—whatever they were, they all had one thing in common: they were all Dora Cunningham originals. Each sketch had its own presence and identity, but they were all signed and dated in the bottom corner with the same calligraphic handscript. She couldn’t wait to generate enough pride and confidence to share her pieces with the art world one day.

She’d another perpetually burning passion inside her as well (which brought a similar degree of happiness) but she couldn’t go outside and participate in this activity among—ironically enough—the birds and bees, by herself or with a friend. Nor did she ever plan to do this in any “professional” manner. Or share it with Susanna, her sister from another Miss and Mister. Susie was as straight as Dora was gay. But more importantly, they really had been just about as close as blood siblings. They could mutually confide about their sex lives, but only up to a certain point. And Dora couldn’t feel for a straight girl what she felt for another lesbian anyway. This was simply an area where each left the other to her business. They had their own bedrooms, and they shared the remainder of the medium-sized apartment, for Susie to entertain a guy or Dora a girl. And in deference, they tried not to “entertain” too “audibly” if both were at home.

Otherwise, they were free to go to town with their significant others. Whether flying solo or using a partner, Dora loved sex. She didn’t honestly see what there was not to love. The world was her buffet. Everywhere she went she found beautiful women to admire. She fancied herself a bit of a doll, but considered her own comeliness ordinary next to others’. She didn’t know if she held the esteem of pretty girls in such regard that it was unhealthy for her self-worth, but she couldn’t help wondering if she loved women too much. Not too much in that she wanted to have a threesome or anything—although if she could find two other girls who were up for the idea…

Still, in her life, she’d had a few girlfriends—and bridge girls—with the proverbial benefits. She may’ve been with several very different partners, but valued each relationship for what it was. And she refused to let anyone call her a slut or a whore. It was her life, and as long as one lady friend had run her course with Dora, and officially gone her separate way, there was nothing wrong in simply moving on to the next. Of course, she tried to stay on good terms, as she and her exes often remained semi-close.

The last time Dora enjoyed the intimate company of a lady was a few years ago, in her late 20s. Marianne Wallman was a bank teller into whom Dora almost literally bumped one day on her lunch break. They were at the Bread Bowls sandwich shop around the corner from Dora’s office, and it turned out Marianne’s bank was also nearby. Once Dora got to chatting with her, she wanted to keep doing just so. But both needed to get back to work. So they swapped contact info, which led to some dates, which led to one…very wild night.


Finding Dora: Another Nicely Shoehorned-In Gratuitous Sex Flashback

Friday, April 5th, 2013, 8:02 p.m.

Dora had grown so fond of Marianne she could hardly wait to show her just how fond, and Marianne wasn’t far behind. Dora believed Susie had a date at their place tonight. So they came back to Marianne’s own apartment, following a scrumptious supper at the Candle Grove which was just right: neither too light nor too filling. So Marianne afterwards encouraged Dora to follow her home in her car. Dora would’ve been content to just leave her car at the restaurant and ride with Marianne—possibly hugging her arm or holding her hand the entire way—but she wasn’t sure how long she’d be staying, and she had to go home at some point.

Marianne had a studio, which was basically what she could afford on her own income. But Dora was hardly unimpressed. She didn’t earn much more money than Marianne, and were she to support herself by herself, she’d likely keep just the same. Besides, it was nice inside. The lady’d certainly made the best of what she had to work with. She turned this tiny apartment into a home that said, “A very classy, very zen lady dwells here.” Dora looked around to see Japanese box lamps, a tranquility fountain, feng shui here and there…the apartment size kept the amount of décor modest, but didn’t impede demand for attention at all. There was no missing it. Dora was enchanted. Marianne took her inside and turned on the stereo, tinting the atmosphere with Asian-flavored new age music.

“Wow, this is gorgeous,” Dora breathed. “It’s so…Orient-y…

“Oh, I’m sorry, I…picked the wrong word; I’m not supposed to say that, am I?”

Marianne laughed. “It’s okay, honey, you can say it. Trust me, I’m hardly the sensitive type.”

“Ar—…are you…actually Asian?”

“Does that surprise you?”

Frankly, yes. Dora anticipated there were still lots of things she didn’t know about her. She just hadn’t expected this to be one of them.

“Uh…maybe a little. I…I guess you don’t really, eh…‘look’…like it a whole lot?” Dora finger-quoted. “If that makes any sense?”

“I’m an eighth Japanese on my Mom’s side. Her Grandma—my great-one—’s from Kyoto. My folks already had a lot of heritage between them, so I’ve got a whole plethora of stuff going on. It’s just that when I discovered far Eastern culture, I fell in love with it.”

Dora blessed her with a warm smile, gingerly brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Marianne palmed her cheek. One look into each other’s smoky eyes, and both could see it was time. It made zero sense to wait any longer. Dora’s hostess took her hand.

“Would you care to see the bedroom, my dear?”

Very much indeed, Dora stated she did. Marianne smiled seductively, blinking butterfly kisses at her. She proceeded to guide her in.

The mistress was a logical extension of the living/dining/everything else room. The bed wasn’t gigantic, but the optimistic Dora felt this could play in her favor, to maintain close contact with her hostess. She thought about squeezing and huggling Marianne extra tight, and her body went tingly with giddiness. Marianne climbed up onto the bed first, on all fours, and rested on her side. She stretched one arm over her head and beckoned Dora in with her eyes. Dora was only too ecstatic to join.

Much as she was tempted, she resisted the urge to leap into the air and land with a crash, eliminating any risk of catapulting Marianne off onto the floor, and thereby putting something of a damper on the mood. So she climbed on in alongside, putting a sexy smile on Marianne’s kisser, and prompting her to open her arms. She welcomed Dora into her bed and her embrace.

The foreplay began with some nuzzling and fingertip caressing. Both warmed naturally, with a minimal amount of effort. Dora slipped a leg over Marianne’s, and Marianne stamped an initial kiss on Dora’s face, leaving a faint trace of lipstick on her already blushing cheek. Dora answered with a nipping peck on Marianne’s jaw. Paws roved, sifting hair, smoothing down backs and torsos…gripping, groping, grasping, grabbing. Before they knew it, their bodies were plumping with excitement.

They conveyed a mutual thought, took a unisonous deep breath, and locked lips. Moans emitted, each filling the other with a healthy dose of flattery. They extended limbs, arm- and gam-hugging tight as they could. Both hearts sent blood racing, pooling into the lasses’ erogenous zones. Even through their unshed clothing, Dora felt Marianne’s tits push up against hers, nipples nubbing encouragingly. Dora’s lips detached to accommodate the sudden necessary gasp of electric pleasure in her boobs. Marianne grinned proudly.

“Feel a little jolt there, did we?...”

Dora was so turned on, the mere sight of Marianne’s confident grin alone moistened her pussy.

And a little wetness, too,” she uttered back.

Ooohhh…” Marianne flipped her eyebrows. “Bad girl.”

She was really turning on the heat. Dora began to sweat. She abruptly very much wanted out of her outfit.

“I, uh…Marianne, I know this may be a little…premature, um…” She paused to giggle.

“…But do you mind if I take off my clothes?”

Mmm…” Marianne slid her fingertip down Dora’s nose, over her philtrum, lips, chin and neck, till she reached her chest, and just between her girls. “Little eager, eh…beaver, aren’t we now? I, for one, frankly don’t mind at all.”

With impressively little work, Marianne had her blazed up so hot, her thighs might as well have been giving off smoke. Dora gulped, trying desperately to catch her breath, struggling for control over her heaving breasts and sopping cunt. She retained just enough rational mindpower to refrain from ripping her shirt open, and rapidly unbuttoned it instead. Marianne admired her 36Cs under the cups of the white bra staring back at her. Dora shimmied her arms from the sleeves and flung it off. Next were the jeans. She unzipped and whipped them down in an equally harried, hurried state, kicking in a bike-pedaling motion to get them off her feet. When this was done, she reached around her back to start unhooking the bra. She failed to notice Marianne reaching down to her hips.

Shoop! She did, however, feel Marianne take hold of her dampened panties and yank them down. She gave a small yelp.

“Ahh! Wh—?” she giggled. She admired Marianne’s swift initiative, but was yet just a bit startled.


“You’re taking too long,” Marianne purred in her ear. “I want you naked, now.”

That was enough explanation for Dora. She frantically undid the rest of her bra and whipped it off. Her bare titties bobbled out, ready to play. Marianne approved.

There’s a good naked girl,” she praised, teasing Dora’s nipples as if milking her, making her guest’s libido burn with desire. “Now…”

She reached up to the top of her headboard. Dora couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t in a great hurry to remove her own clothing.

“Aren’—…uh…aren’t you gonna, eh, get naked too, Marianne?”

Marianne found what she needed on the back of the bed, and gazed, almost hypnotizingly, into Dora’s curious green eyes.

“Not necessary, girl-pet.”

Girl-pet? “It’s…not?”

“No, no. Only you will be nude in my bed.”

Dora didn’t mind admitting that this news disappointed her. A good half of the reason she was so avid and eager to get her own clothes off was so she’d be able to see Marianne’s lovely unclad figure as well. Now she wouldn’t be allowed to? Well, this was…frustrating.

“But…um…why, exactly?”

“Well, you see, dear Dora…’cause you’re going to be participating in my favorite, most indulged fetish.”

Oooh…that sounded hot. This brought Dora a bit of the way back to pleased, knowing she’d be making Marianne happy via her own secret desires and kinks. Of course, she remained curious.

“And…um…what, uh…wh-what f—”

“I’m so very happy you asked. It’s called—or abbreviated—C.F.N.F. Would you like to know what it stands for? I’ll tell you. C.F.N.F. means ‘Clothed Female, Naked Female.’ One girl gets to keep her clothes on, and controls and dominates the other. The naked one is the slave, and does what her dressed mistress tells her. It’s a simple variation on the hetero version, just for lesbians.”

Dora allowed a few seconds of silence to go by, absorbing it all. Yup, she was right. She wouldn’t be getting to see Marianne naked.


Marianne nodded. “Glad you understand. So with that in mind, I’m gonna have you please put this on for me.”

She showed Dora the object she’d plucked from the headboard. It was her sleep mask. Well, that seemed ironic, being made to wear this while permitted nothing else. Dora interpreted it for its intended use.


Marianne smiled, nodding once more. “You’re catching on nicely. Go on, go ahead.”

Hmmm…well, maybe this wouldn’t be such a disappointment. If Dora wasn’t being allowed to drink in Marianne’s nude splendor but was forced to reveal her own, then she didn’t think she minded having to wear a blindfold too. She’d rather feast her eyes on absolutely nothing for the time being than the sight of a fully dressed Marianne, knowing she couldn’t disrobe her. She obliged.

She heard Marianne breathe in deep, and exalt her. “Mmm, you look so damn hot like that.” She felt something tickle.

“I love how your cute little nose pokes out from under there,” Marianne cooed to her, butterfly kissing her nose tip. Dora smiled. It felt nice, if a little funny. And she enjoyed being still able to turn Marianne on, with only her presence, and pretty features.

“Now then,” Marianne told her, “What I’m gonna have you do next is put your hands behind your back. And they’re gonna stay there. And to make it easier, why don’t you go ahead and lie down for me. Face up, belly up.”

Dora thought she could do that. If she wasn’t being given the privilege to see Marianne—or anything else—she appreciated not having to do the work, so to speak. She again did as told.

“Very good. Now arch your back…”

She obeyed. Marianne slipped one arm under her, between Dora’s mattress-planted hands and her pleasingly, obediently arched back.

“What a wonderfully subservient slave.” Marianne next lapped her leg over one of Dora’s, and wedged her knee in between her guest-slave’s thighs, coercing her legs apart. Dora gasped, feeling her already and still wet pussy exposed to the air.

Yesssssss…” her dominant hostess rejoiced, folding her fabric-enveloped body onto Dora. Dora felt her heat and smelled her natural pheromones. Marianne pressed her lips into Dora’s neck, just below the jawline, and sucked.

Dora gasped again, a small whimper escaping. She loved hickeys, but simultaneously, they overwhelmed her just a bit. But she certainly wasn’t about to question Marianne’s authority. Now with the sizzle turned back on, she again had Dora fiery hot. Dora quivered in her genitals and extremities, passion racing rampant over her. Marianne’s upper hand smoothed from her sternum between her breasts, rubbed her tummy, and down further still. Dora braced herself as the fingers played about her pelvis…but then returned back up.

She was a bit confused as to why Marianne stopped there. She turned her way and uttered inquisitively. A faint chuckle answered her as Marianne leaned up to her ear, closing her teeth on the lobe.

Just teasing you, dear,” she whispered.

Dora was less than wild about being sexually teased or messed with, but hoped this would pay off for her in the end. Perhaps by denying her yearning now, Marianne would work her up into an ever more delirious frenzy later. She supposed this was worth waiting for. She felt Marianne descend back to her neck, gracing her hot skin with strategically placed, timed-out kisses of fire, always waiting just a little bit before the next. Her fingers spread to cover more territory from her torso down, brushing the inner edges of Dora’s tits.

Dora laid her dizzy head back and breathed harder and faster, as her orbs heaved and fell. Her nipples twitched to life and grew erect. Her digits curled. Marianne’s finesse carried the desired effect and so very much more. Her paw again passed over Dora’s abs, one finger slipping into her bellybutton, and Dora couldn’t help but giggle. Marianne kissed her shoulder, moving diagonally in to reach her nearer hungry breast. She pivoted her head, fingers pointing south, and this time grazed Dora’s bush, making ever so light contact.

Dora’s next gasp was audible, vocal cords activated to punctuate the sensations. She couldn’t believe how incredible having her pussy finally touched felt, brief and subtle though it was. She didn’t know if she was “allowed” to speak, per se, but did so.

More…” she breathed, quiet but insistent. “Mooooore…”

Marianne grinned up at her face. “What’s the magic word?”


“That’s a girl. Good manners and polite words are very important, you know.”

Dora smiled.

“Excuse me, Marianne, please rub my pussy, thank you!” she implored, accentuating the courteous words. She heard Marianne laugh.

“Well, since you’re such a gracious, precious thing, I’ll reward you accordingly.” She glid her fingertips and nails back down to do so.

Dora gasped yet once more. “OH, GOD!” Marianne rubbed and fondled, more aggressively this time, pressing against her slit, her clit, her entire drenched region. She pulled Dora’s nearer gam further from its mate, closing in her line of kisses on the patiently heaving breast. Dora could now see—no pun intended—that the sleep mask blindfold was a great touch and idea, heightening her other senses by taking away one she didn’t essentially need. She could picture Marianne in her mind’s eye, performing such devastating deeds, driving her insane with ecstasy. And now, she neither in the least minded not seeing Marianne naked.

Marianne tongued her rock-hard nipple. Dora screamed as if she’d just been electrocuted.

“Hee hee hee!” Marianne chortled, relishing being able to do whatever she wished to Dora’s body—to say nothing of the reactions she elicited. “How’re you enjoying your introduction to C.F.N.F., sweetie?”

Oh, she was enjoying it. She’d still, however, yet to find what Marianne had in store for her beyond this. She eased further into Dora’s pre-cumming cunt, took the nipple in between her pearly whites, gently ground it, and poor Dora went manic. She flipped, trembling with the upper limbs behind her back, one free leg shaking and whapping the bed like crazy. She began to see stars, it was all just so unbelievable. She had to give Marianne credit—this hostess was the most-ess, knowing indeed what she was doing. Between her repeated shrieks, Dora processed the thought that she should be able to trust Marianne’s judgment.

Sometime later, Marianne pulled her digits from Dora’s cunt and released her nipple. She gave her a wet smack on the side of the tush.

“All right, get up,” she ordered.

Dora’s eyes fluttered open under the blindfold. Something abruptly disoriented her.


Another slap. “Come on, girl-toy; up and at ’em, I said!”

Girl-toy? “Um—”

“No arguments. You’re in my home, you’re playing my game, and you do as I say. Now roll over on your belly, and get up. On all fours.”

“B—…but…I was…enjoying that.”

“You’ll enjoy this more. Now I said, do it. Pron-to.”

Dora felt a teensy bit torn betwixt emotions. But she was getting a rocking sexual high from being dominated like this. And Marianne’s commanding, no-nonsense tone seared her hormones till she felt she could melt into a puddle of lust. Such officious orders whispered into Dora’s ear set her submissive side afire, and gripped her pussy in a disarming vise of lust. She had to comply. She rolled over onto her tummy and pushed herself up, as Marianne simultaneously rose from the bed.

“And keep that blindfold on, young lady,” she heard. “You’re not allowed to see what I’m gonna do to you.”

Dora produced another coat of pre-cum. God, the power this woman had over her. Dora’d never been with a girl who owned her so easily. She couldn’t help wondering if Marianne wielded the same potent, blinding energy over other girls as well. She wasn’t concerned about the others. Although, should Marianne concoct the idea to keep Dora as her toy and pet together, along with another girl-slave…

There was that threesome curiosity again. Well, she was honoring Marianne’s whims and fancies tonight; perhaps another night things would be different. Her mind was already consumed with what further insanity the hostess had in store for her.

Rising on her hands and knees as called for, ass and pussy nicely elevated, Dora took a deep breath. She’d put little past Marianne by this point, and she knew bigger capers weren’t out of the question. This realm of possibilities was tremendous. And truly, the suspense was killing her. She couldn’t wait to discover her fate on this wet, wild C.F.N.F. evening. She felt Marianne pet her not-so-privates.

“What a beautifully luscious ass we have here…oh, and this adorable wet pink muffin beneath it.”

Her paw departed, to Dora’s brief disappointment. She heard faint, indistinguishable sounds as Marianne prepped. Unbeknownst to innocent Dora, her beautiful, many-faceted, multifarious Miss Wallman was affixing none other than a strapon around her waist…and plugging a Hitachi into the outlet. When this was done and she was ready to go, she decided to throw a bit of alarm into her delicious naked plaything. To “initiate” her, as it were, into Marianne’s web of sex games, a web that was far kinkier than Dora could’ve imagined. She grinned down at her, reared back, and dealt Dora a first, warningless, unforgivingly harsh smack on the ass.

Dora unleashed a very different sort of gasp at this novelty, punctuated by a yell of shocked pain.

OWCH!” she cried, almost collapsing right into the mattress. “Wh-M-M—…Marianne??! What on Ear—”

The sinister evil in her smile was so palpable Dora could taste it.

Silence, doll.”

Well, that was easy, as Dora was at a loss for logical words. She was stunned, on multiple levels. Her body quivered. She struggled hard to hold on to her balance, and even harder to mentally process that the very same sweet, lovely, precious Marianne Louise Wallman, this tranquil, serene lady of all things peace and zen…had just done this. One burst, however, simply needed out.

“Y—…you just hit me!”

“I spanked you, dear Dora. A strike of passion, all in the name of kink. To get your motor up and revving. Now again, silence.”

“B-bu-b-b-but…” Dora sputtered. This was intended to fire her up? It didn’t exactly work that way. Perhaps Marianne didn’t know her own strength. That hurt. Dora winced through the ache and the sting, waiting for it to go away. Even so, everything leading up to this point had proven so splendid, she wouldn’t bring their night to a standstill. Maybe that spank was just…some sort of anomaly?...

But two moments later, the ante was upped yet again. Marianne returned to her semi-wounded ass, and spread her cheeks.


“Quiet, or I’ll spank you again.”

Dora could do without that a second time. She zipped her lips. But their zipper broke open as she felt something ease into her asshole, and begin thrusting. Marianne commenced to anally penetrating her with the dildo. Hard. Fast. And without any form of ass-foreplay beforehand. Feeling herself as abruptly invaded in this locale, Dora’s eyes bugged out under the blindfold. She hollered.


“Hush!” Marianne barked over her cries. “Welcome to the next item on your itinerary this evening: a nice doggie-style ass-bang. Now be a good girl, and hold still. Don’t you struggle! You’ll take it, and you’ll enjoy it! Your ass is mine! And so is your pussy. Now, then…”

The plugged-in vibrator, her companion piece to the strapon, Marianne gripped in her right hand. She activated it, and torched Dora’s hard, throbbing clit. “…Take that!

The almighty clitoral sensations rushed Dora head-on, and nailed her like a speeding car. Disturbed and creeped-out as she’d been by the anal act, her mind and libido dramatically shifted gears in the other direction, as her doorbell began incessantly ringing. Marianne kept up the ass-ramming, but somehow, its rattling unpleasantness failed to affect Dora the same way. Now with this havoc-wreaking hummer on her clitty, Dora could see nothing but stars. And heaven. Exploding and swirling together into one. Her eyes crossed and rolled backwards. Her arms wobbled, about to give way. Her pussy contracted, clenched, and gave off more pre-cum squirts.

That’s a girl,” grunted the panting Marianne, getting as undeniably aroused under her clothes. “That’s a good little plaything; show me that love! Worship your mistress!”

Dora didn’t know if she’d go quite that far, but she did adore the awesome power being forced on her, courtesy of this hellraising wand. She screeched, she howled, she bellowed, all the while slamming the mattress with the tops of her feet. She couldn’t believe how, just how…dynamite it was. Unreal. If her eyes rolled back into position right now, she could’ve seen through the blindfold.

She howled for release. Behind her, she felt Marianne deliver another sharp blow to her tush.

“TAKE it, you slut!!

Something in that imperative sentence momentarily broke Dora from her reverie. She started to turn around.


Spank! “Take it, bitch! Take it like the skank puppy you are, you little whore!!

The shock returned. Dora had never been called such hurtful names before. She didn’t know how to react. This wasn’t right. She hadn’t consented to such improper verbal degradation. She didn’t like that.

But she was afforded virtually no time to be upset by it at any rate, as Marianne flipped up the Hitachi to a more intense setting, and proceeded to rock her world. Dora lost it. She exploded. She thought she felt Marianne spank her some more and hurl a few extra mean names her way, but gave no credence. The almighty vibrating wand maintained its seizing grip, liquefying her brain. Finally, just as Dora thought she couldn’t keep herself propped up another second, it happened. Marianne forced her to cum…monstrously.


Marianne laughed victoriously.

“And that just pounded in the nail of confirmation for me,” she yelled over Dora’s caterwauling. “I now officially own you, my dear.”

Dora didn’t even hear a syllable she said as the incredible climax shook, rattled and rolled her. Her already soaked, dripping, maroon pussy spurted warm cum straight behind, and pelted her kinky hostess. Marianne didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, just the opposite; the more splattered she was, the more flattered she was. She spanked and taunted Dora on to the very end.

When it was over, and Dora’d been rendered all but laryngitic, Marianne took her dick out of her N.F.’s ass, removed the Hitachi, and let her go. And her girl-pet tumbled right over into the mattress on her side. Marianne chuckled down at her.

“Sweet dreams, girl-slave. I’ll leave you be for a bit.”

She deposited the equipment in her sex toy hamper, and adjourned to her living room/dining room/kitchen/office/study, flipped on the TV, and turned the volume down. But though Dora was too wrecked to move a muscle right now, she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for a while. Albeit bathing in the honeyed afterglow, her mind was troubled. Quite frankly, she was freaked out. Apparently, there were a few more things she’d yet to learn about Marianne in their short dating span. She’d never been invited back to Marianne’s home, to say nothing of her bedroom, and consequently, never been exposed to the girl’s true colors. And colorful kinks.

It seemed Marianne was a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets—even if she’d actually stood beside the bed, while Dora occupied it. When she remembered she still had this sleep mask on, she removed and tossed it…somewhere. She didn’t have the energy to get up and leave, get dressed or even stumble into the bathroom. But she hoped Marianne didn’t come back either. She was scared. There were a few worries festering on her mind: the lingering sting in both the inside and outside of her rear end, and those nasty, derogatory names Marianne’d called her in the midst of it all. Under normal circumstances, Dora’d never allow someone to speak to her this way. And Marianne’s sexual power that allowed her to get away with it also uneased her. Their first time being together had turned out nothing like Dora had imagined. She’d had a little more tenderness in mind, more kissing, mutual loving caresses, and being snuggle-spooned afterwards. And enjoying the beauty of Marianne’s nudity as well. Not being butt-reamed with a freakishly infernal dildo, for heaven’s sake. She felt more than just frightened and creeped-out. She felt even a bit…violated.

All this added up in Dora’s mind to a decision she dreaded making, but had to face. It hurt so much, but…she didn’t feel she could see Marianne anymore. She wished she could’ve just gone back to their last date before this, to return to the blissful days of oblivion to Marianne being such a kinky devil. When she really genuinely liked her. Or thought she did. These brash behaviors may have been in the heat of passion, but couldn’t be erased from Dora’s mind. She wasn’t the sort of girl who could just let these things roll off her back.

She cried, feeling even worse for Marianne’s mattress at this point than for herself. She didn’t relish having to break the news to her, but she couldn’t go through another night of such agony and humiliation. Her tears would make broaching the subject only a bit easier. She just couldn’t look at the girl the same way again. She finally summoned the strength to get up from the bed, and drag herself out.

And to tell Marianne what she had to say.


Return To Real Life As We Know It: The Search Is On

late July—early-mid-August 2016

Dora to date had very mixed feelings about her night of being utterly ravaged by Marianne Wallman. As somebody who tried to always look up and keep her glass half-full, she affectionately, privately referred to this as the night she became a woman, as it were. But now that she was one, she elected to own it. And she wouldn’t allow anyone to treat her like Marianne did again. Dora was to be no one else’s toy, pet, slave, skank puppy, or whatever else she’d been cruelly labeled. As far as Marianne felt, it was all in the context of innocent albeit kinky fun. But when Dora finally worked up the guts to inform Marianne—amongst all else—how these verbal slights had made her feel, Marianne was properly if a bit mildly contrite. She apologized, but Dora was less than convinced she really meant it. When Dora told her she thought they should break up, more tears were shed, but they agreed to move on.

Which led Dora through the next few years of dating. The good thing about never seeing any one woman for too long was she never had to feel as if she were starting over again. She never had so much invested in a relationship to want to stay in it for the wrong reasons. Girls came—sometimes on numerous levels—and went, and while one part of Dora was fine was this, another couldn’t help but wonder if it was something in her that kept a relationship from going the distance. Maybe at some point she should take a little one-on-one time to see if there was something she was or wasn’t doing that could be worked on.

In the meantime, however, she needed a new roomie. She advertised, putting the word out, working day and night, stopping only for a rest or bite to eat. Inevitably, calls poured in. Dora made up a schedule in her computer to meet and interview potential roomies, on weekday evenings and weekends. When she wasn’t doing this, she spent most online time catching up with Susie. August arrived, as did Susanna’s new job, which she reported to Dora was overwhelming, but would be rewarding in the long run. Dora remained happy for her. And while she didn’t love telling Susie she would have to be replaced, she knew her best buddy would understand.

The first appointment was Tuesday the 2nd, at 7:00 p.m. There hadn’t been a wealth of applicants so far, but that was all right; there were enough to get to know over the next few weeks. Rent was due by the end of every month. And Dora could swing August’s on her own if need be, a small hit though her bank account would take. She might be able to take care of September’s too, but hoped she wouldn’t have to. Could she find and settle on someone permanent by mid-September, she figured she’d be all right. So she drew up a list of questions for applicants, and starting on the 2nd, made sure the apartment was just as immaculate as possible.

From then into the following week, she met a wide assortment of folks, spanning from early 20s to late 30s. She offered refreshments and supper—and/or lunch, on the weekends—conducted the interviews, and made notes on each in her laptop. Then of course came the tour. And when the meetings were concluded, Dora thanked them for coming and showed them back out with a cordial “I’ll let you know!” Afterwards, she typed out a small summary of each person under their interview notes.

She wanted to take her time and draw out the meetings to really get to know these folks, for obvious reasons. Dora was friendly, hoped for a similar sort to decide on, and secretly also wished for a bit of friendship in her new flatmate. She couldn’t expect it, and wouldn’t get deflated if it didn’t happen, but a girl could dream. And honestly, it didn’t matter if she chose a gal or a guy. Her home was gender-neutral. She just made sure to say upfront that she was a lesbian, in case it concerned anybody. Thus far, no one really seemed to care.

On Saturday, August 13th, she had two appointments: one in the mid-late-morning, and one in the afternoon. By now she’d interviewed just over a dozen people. Predictably, she felt good about some and not as great about others. She wished they could all stay fresh in her mind for optimum comparison. Perhaps none would measure up to Susie, but she had to put that out of mind. Susie was gone. She had a whole new life now. Dora still got wistful missing her, singing to herself, “…For I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee…”

A little after 5:00, she concluded her second interview du jour. Neither of today’s applicants had particularly blown her mind, but oh well. She was by now mentioning to everyone that though she hadn’t chosen, she’d met with about fifteen people, and was sure they all understood making this choice would be difficult. She also made sure to note that meeting earlier or later made no impact. No one would be “penalized” just for scheduling a later interview. Yet, as she shut the door one more time, she felt the decision taking its toll. There wasn’t really anyone with whom she could recall falling in love—or deep like—as a roomie, and time wasn’t slowing down for her. She needed someone who could afford his or her half of rent, and it was also desirable to be able to click with the person. And Dora just didn’t know if this person had or would come along. Perhaps she should ask one or two to come back for a second meeting, she thought, slipping into the kitchen for some pretzels. Just to refresh herself and see if there was any chemistry. Or perhaps—


Dora turned back to the door. That was funny, she wasn’t expecting anyone else. She strode back over and looked through the peephole.


There was a beautiful woman on the other side of the door. Strawberry blonde with dark blue eyes. Dora unlocked and opened it.


“Hi,” her visitor said. “Sorry if this isn’t the right place, or I should’ve called first, but someone told me you’re looking for a roommate?”

Something inside Dora awoke.

“Um, well, yes, yes, I am…did…but, did you say you didn’t call? Did you have an appointment?”

“No, neither. Sorry again about that. I was just in the neighborhood, and I couldn’t remember the number.”

Dora nodded. “Oh, I see…”

“Yeah, look, I’m sorry,” the woman apologized a third time. “I should probably go. I can call you, and set up a time to come back.”

“Uh—no, wait!” Dora insisted, reaching to stop her before she left. “I-I mean, that’s…it’s okay. You’re, well, already here now, and…I have the rest of the evening free. You wanna come in?”

“Oh. Well, are you sure?”

“Yes!” Dora nodded again, sans hesitation. “Please! I can certainly squeeze in one more tonight. C’mon in!

“And I’m Dora, by the way. Dora Cunningham. And you are?”

“Oh,” the mysterious and beautiful visitor held out her hand.

“Savanna. Nice to meet you.”


The Conversation—My Dinner With Dora

Saturday, August 13th, 2016, 5:40 p.m.

“Well, lovely to meet you too, Savanna! Okay, well, why don’t you go ahead and have a seat on the sofa for me, and we’ll just chat.”

“Sure, you got it.”

“Do you want a snack or drink or something?”

“Yeah, a drink sounds nice.”

“Great. Le’ssee, I’ve got water, Coke, milk, apple juice, grape juice and tea.”

“Coke, please.”

“Coke it is! I’ll grab one for me too here…there we go.

“A’right, now, Savanna, I hope you don’t mind if I just take some notes here while I ask you my questions.”

“I’d have it no other way. It is your place, after all.”

“And you feel just as free to ask me anything you want too. I want to be such an open book that you can’t even see my spine.”

“Heh! Okay.”

“So, I guess I’ll tell you a little bit about me, uh…so yes, I’m Dora—and please, no jokes about me being an explorer. I’ve been hearing them since I was 15. I’m not Mexican, and I don’t have a monkey named Boots. I don’t have a monkey named anything. But yes. My name is Dora Katie Cunningham, I’m 31, I’m a lesbian—single—and I’ve lived here for about five years. My old roommate just moved out. And I’m a receptionist in a doctor’s office for geriatrics. It’s a nice job. It just doesn’t pay enough for me to live on my own. Hence…”

“Right, gotcha. All right, well: Savanna Babs Carlen, but I actually prefer Savvy; like to think it fits—wink wink—28 as of this May, and I work at the Angels supermarket on Boulder Street. So I could really benefit from a place like this, ’cause it’s right nearby.”

“Okay, great. Now, Savanna—or, Savvy—some of these questions I’m gonna ask you might seem a little personal. But please keep in mind that if this works out and I end up choosing you, we are gonna be living together. So I feel it important to share a lot about ourselves early on, and get to know each other really well, to make the best decision for everyone.”

“Oh, I can handle personal. I’m an open book too. Nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. Bring it right on.”

“All right, so, you said you work at the supermarket. And so, how much is your annual salary?”

“Annual? I’d say probably around thirty grand.”

“Oh, terrific. That’s pretty close to what I make too. Do you have any children or pets?”

“No, ma’am. No kids, human or otherwise, no spouse, no significant other. I’m free as a bird.”

“That’s good. Not that I discriminate against parents or pet owners, but they need and deserve more space. This apartment’s just most suitable for a couple roomies. We can entertain, have dates and guests over and all. We just shouldn’t let it go much further than that.

“So, do you have a steady set schedule at Angels?”

“Not really, no. Our schedules are printed up by the week, and they’re always a little different. Actually, my Saturdays are usually longer, but today they let me off early, so I just came right over. Like I said, it’s a pretty close distance.”

“Okay, no problem. Do you drink or smoke at all?”

“Smoke, no. Drink, sometimes at bars or clubs or whatever.”

“Good. Smoking’s prohibited in our units. And it’s technically permitted on the balcony, but still frowned upon. They’re not crazy about letting people cook outside on the grill, but they allow it. And I don’t keep alcohol around unless company’s coming over.

“So then, my Savvy friend…would you consider yourself more a morning person or night person?”

“Oh, that’s easy: night. All the way. I love going out on my off nights, especially to parties and that kinda thing.”

“All right, well, that’s good. I’m a night person too. If one of us was a morning person, then our sleep rhythms might end up clashing. I don’t usually go out at night though, I like to stay in. Work on my drawings and stuff like that.”

“Drawings? You an artist?”

“Well, not a professional one. Hoping to be one day! But it’s just my most passionate hobby for now. You have any favorite hobbies?”

“Yeah, I like to bowl. I’m in a fall-to-spring league that meets on Saturday nights. Lucky for me, my job’s pretty flexible about that. Of course, that doesn’t start till October, so I won’t have to run off and cut this short or anything.”

“Oh, cool! Are you good?”

“I’m okay. We do tenpins, and I usually break triple digits. The thing is, though, I can only use the ten-pound balls. If I use one any heavier than that, I dent the lane. Any lighter, my fingers get stuck and I go right down the lane with it.”

“Ha! Well, I’m sure everyone could do without either of those things happening. Bet it’s easier to get a strike that way, though.”

“Yeah, easier…against the rules, and it won’t count, but, yes.”

“Okay, so now let’s see, uh…oh, yes. Miss Savvy, do you have any allergies?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Any of what you might call strange or unusual habits?”

“Hmm…well, I crack my knuckles a lot.”

“…If that’s the worst of it, I think you and I are gonna get along just fine.”

“Well…I like to eat ice cream right out of a carton too.”

“Well, fair enough; maybe we’ll just get our own cartons. So! Do you tend to have a lot of guests, overnight or otherwise?”

“Nah. I like to just go out and have fun. It doesn’t happen often, but if I meet or hook up with someone, I usually end up at their place.”

“All right. Would you consider yourself neat, messy, or somewhere in between?”

“Hee hee…well, I’m inclined to say neat to stay on good terms, but I’m the worst, most transparent liar alive. When I try to tell a lie, you can practically see it right through my teeth. So the truth is, I’m not disastrously messy, but somewhere in between.”

“That’s okay; I wouldn’t automatically disqualify you if you happened to be a little messy. I should really stress, though—common sense while it may be—this apartment needs to stay in at least decently presentable shape. Most of the time we’re left to our own, but now and then we need the maintenance people to come fix something, and sometimes the landlord comes too. And, well, if the place is a pigsty…you can probably see where that ends up going.”

“Eviction city?”

“Well, hopefully we’ll get a warning first, but yeah, if we screw up one too many times, that is the final consequence.

“Okay, Savanna, next questy: how’s your personal hygiene?”

“Oh, terrific. That I can say without fear of being caught in a lie; I take excellent care of myself. Shower and brush my teeth at least one to two times every day, keep myself nicely groomed, and always wear something freshly laundered.”

“Fabulous! Well, I’ll tell you that this complex has great water heating. You can stand in the shower here forever and the water will not drop in temperature. And even better, it’s included in the rent. So bathe all you want. Flush all you like. Heck, brush your teeth three times and wash your hands while you’re at it. Use the H2O to your heart’s content. But do please remember there’s only one bathroom.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem; I’m not known for monopolizing utilities.”

“’Atta girl. How about TV?”

“Oh, I love TV. But if someone else is using it, that’s fine, I can use my computer. Isn’t technology wonderful?”

“Indeed…what’re some of your favorite shows?”

“Hm, let’s see…I like Last Man On Earth, Shameless, Mr. Robot, Impractical Jokers, Mom, Orange Is The New Black…”

“Oh yeah, some good o—shut the hicc-up! Orange Is Th—…I love Orange Is The New Black!”

“Yeah, huh? Not that they all are, but there’s something about a bad dirty girl that…kinda makes me wanna be bad and dirty with her.”

“You…wanna b—…ahem! D’you happen to, uh…be a lesbian too, Savanna? If that’s okay to ask?”

“I’m bi, technically. But yeah, lately, I have been leaning more towards the chicks.”


“I guess. But women can be pretty challenging too.”

“Huh! God, don’t I know that.”

“Yeah; I mean, straight girls—or ones who claim they’re ‘straight’—think it’s okay to hate guys and say the nastiest crap about ’em. And I haven’t had the best luck with dudes either, but really…these chicks should try dating each other and see how much fun that is.”

“Omigod, you just totally took the words right outta my mouth. I mean, my best friend and old roommate’s straight; she loves guys. But yeah, I’ve definitely sat around and listened to how a lot of ’em talk about men. And y’know, as a lesbian, that’s a little awkward. I kinda just wanna jump in there and yell at ’em, ‘Yeah, well, y’know what? We aren’t such a picnic either!’ But they wouldn’t understand. Gay guys seem to like each other a whole lot more than those straight chicks do.”

“Right?? Oh, God, now you just reminded me of something that happened in high school. Honest-to-goodness true story, Dora: my eleventh-grade math teacher was a man, and we all thought he was actually gay at first. ’Cause he…just…well, ‘acted’ like a gay guy, I guess. But then one day I left after class, and realized I forgot something, so I went back in. And there’s a woman there with him. And I said, ‘Who’s she?’ And he goes, ‘This is my wife.’ And I’m all like, ‘But I thought you were, you know…’ And he goes, ‘Do me a favor, please don’t tell anyone I’m really straight.’ And I go, ‘Why??’”

“Wh—yeah, why? That’d be the first thing outta my mouth too.”

“Well, he tells me ironically, his job’s actually more secure with people thinking he’s gay. I had no idea about this, but…well, apparently, schools are running rampant with accusations against male teachers with their female students. Whether the teachers’ve actually done anything or not. Now, y’know, obviously, if a teacher does take advantage of a student, he should be punished for it. I mean, that’s just common sense. And it does happen. But then there’re guy teachers who don’t misbehave, but if a girl student just says they do, their career’s ruined anyway. Even if she’s lying. And even if he doesn’t get put away, there’s a good chance he’ll never teach again.”

“You’re kidding me! That’s…horrible!”

“I wish I was. But like I said, it’s ironic. As short a time as ten years ago, I have a feeling really being gay could cost a teacher his job.”

“I think you’re right. But y’know, in a way, I like to think of it as a victory. The world’s still changing, in a lot of ways for the better. I think every generation sees us—and not just us, all LGBTQs—a little more enlightened. We may never have complete 100% vindication, but I like the way things are going. It may be dark in the closet, but it’s just getting brighter and brighter when you come out.”

“That’s a beautiful thought.”

“Thanks! ’S one of my staples, cup half-full and all that.

“Gosh, you know, Savvy, I’m actually starting to get pretty hungry. Can I offer you something to eat?”

“Oh! Even better! Can we order in Chinese? I love Chinese. My treat!”

“Ooh…how can I possibly turn that down?”

“Tip on my card; that’s fine.”

“Well, aren’t you the Generous Judy. Thank you so much, Savvy.”

“Hey, thank you for giving me an impromptu interview.”

“Aw, shucks. Well, hey, it’ll be a while before they get here. Care for a tour?”

“Sounds great.”

“Sweet! I— …

Oops, uh…excuse me. That’s a little embarrassing.”

“Not really; we’re human, and still ladies. Human ladies do that. Nothing to be embarrassed about; ’s just what happens when we drink soda. If they feed you someplace like India, or, eh…China…they take it as a compliment. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, or that it’s unladylike. In fact, watch; I can do it on command.” …

“HA! That’s great! That’s hilarious! You’re truly talented!”

“And funny, too. I could make you laugh all day.”

“Oh, really?...Well, we might just have to, eh…put that theory to the test.

“Ahem! Well! Let’s, uh, go ahead and get on with the tour. First off, ’course, here we are in the living room. Room of…y’know, living, and all. There’s the main TV, entertainment system, some nice board games under there, in, uh…in case we get ‘board’…please jump in anytime at all if my jokes get too corny. Sturdy generous-sized coffee table to do…basically whatever we…want on…um…

“An-anyway, moving on…then here’s the dining room area—and the ceiling light with the dimmer—which I use if I’m not watching TV. Like, if I wanna read, do a puzzle, draw, play jacks or cards or whatever, this is where that happens. But if I’m eating in the living room, I have to turn the TV on. It’s like a compulsion.”

“Nice…and there’s the kitchen, I see.”

“Absolutely. See, it’s got this nice little nook open in the middle. Two light switches, one on either side, and all your basic appliances. Dunno how much cooking you do, but you can make most anything you want in here.”

“Heh! Well, you saw what I wanted to do for dinner. There’s kind of an indication of how much cooking I do.”

“’Kay, well, we probably won’t have to do a ton of cleaning in here then. So now down the hallway, here’s the bathroom: toilet, shower, two-way mirror with a cabinet, nice little closet for towels and toiletries, your standard john setup…

“Then over here’s the little laundry area, with the washer and dryer. It’s pretty tiny, but there’s enough room to do your clothes inside. And finally, that brings us to the best part: certainly not least but last, the bedrooms. This one on the right’s mine, the one with all the stuff in it. And of course, the empty one’s for my new roomie. They both have windows and nice big closets—I already came out of mine—and they’re both the same size. Go ahead, have a look.”

“Ooh, looks comfy…may I?”

“Of course! Give her a spin.”

“Mmm…nice. Cotton pillows?”

“Close. Cotton mattress. Goose down pillows.”

“Oooh, God, now I really hope you pick me to be your roomie, hee hee!”

Oh, I don’t think you have too much to worry about.”


“Nothing. Nothing. C’mon, I’ll show you my room. I know it may be hard to get outta that bed now—”

“Ohhh, you’re not wrong about that.”

“Heh! Well, remember, we do have Chinese on the way.”

“Ah—right; up I go!”

“So here we are. There’s my desk, where I draw my best pictures…my wall of storage cubes with my books and toys and stuff. My own queen-size bed—they’re both queens—with a full headboard, and my own personal TV to help me sleep. There’s too much stuff in my closet to show you at once, but on the walls: a sewed picture my Mom made me of Garfield…there’s a painting of two lions my brother gave me one year, and there’s a stuffed bunny someone in my office gave me for Easter.”


“Yeah, I keep pretty generous company. There’s more stuff in those drawers too, but some of it’s…kinda…private.”

“Heh! Gotcha; no peeking. Tha—oh, God, though, what you said about the closet, that totally reminds me of one of the funniest things I ever saw in my life. Okay, so I’m watching an old episode of Rainbow Brite. Y’know, from the ’80s. And, so…this was way before, uh…well, let’s just say they didn’t do it on purpose. But Rainbow Brite’s friend, Brian, I think he’s about to go to Rainbow Land, so he’s in his closet at home, and-and…don’t quote me on this, I don’t remember what comes before it, but he says, ‘I hope Mom doesn’t find out about this; she says there’s enough stuff in my closet now!’ Then he gets on his bike and rides…out of the closet…on a rainbow!

“HA!! That’s hysterical! You have to find that and show it to me!”

“Oh, I’ll do my best. I promise you it’s real. I swear I didn’t make that up.”

“Well! So, there’s the basic lay of the land for ya. Whaddaya think?”

“I think you have a sweet-ass pad…”

Wha—oh! Oh. Sorry, I thought you said something else.”

“Hee hee! No, no, I meant your apartment. And Dora, I think anyone at all’d be privileged to live with ya.”

“That’s…oh, that’s so fantastic. Well, I…I, uh, shouldn’t say anything concrete just yet, but…um…so I won’t.

“Bu—oh, gosh! Y’know what? I totally forgot to show you the balcony! C’mon out. This is beautiful.”

Whew…that’s a breathtaker a’right.”

“Yeah, this is unit number 401, but as you found out, it’s only two sets of steps up. That’s ’cause the 200s are on the main level, where you park and all, and the 100s are down from there.”

“God, that’s one helluva view…how much is the rent, by the way?”

“$1,600 a month. There’s a small increase every year, but it’s still affordable with two of us.”


“…Did-did I say ‘us’?...Well, you…you know what I mean.”



“…I think I like it here.”

“Well…at the risk of jumping the gun…I dare say I think you might be a good fit.”

“H—? What was that?”

“Wh—…oh, the food! Of course. Guess we kinda lost track of time. I forgot how hungry I was.”

“A’right, well, we’re in my living room, and we’ve got food, so this TV’s going on. What do you feel like watching, Savvy girl?”

“Eh, I dunno. Let’s surf awhile.”

“…Heh! Karaoke. I’ve just done karaoke a couple times. It was kinda funny: the first time, a friend of mine took me and my brother Mikey to this place she knew. And you had to enter your name in the computer and pick the song you wanted to sing. And we’d never been there. So while we were putting our names in, this lady comes up behind us, and, I have to figure she knew everybody who came there, ’cause she’s like, to the two of us, ‘E’scuse me! Who y’all?!’ Almost accusatory, y’know?? Like we weren’t supposed to be there.”

“Kooky. What’d you sing?”

“Oh, ‘Listen To Your Heart’ by Roxette. One of my all-time favorites.”

“Nice. Me, I’m a little more partial to country. May not be the most popular genre out there, but my favorite karaoke song’s ‘Friends In Low Places.’ That’s a real crowd-pleaser, and they love to sing along with it, which makes me less jittery.”

“Oh, hey, have you got the moo goo?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s here somewhere with the lo mein, and the wanton, and the crispy nood—here it is. There ya go.”

“Mm. Thanks, babe.”



“Thanks, what?

“…What’d I say?”

“Sounded like you just called me ‘babe.’”

“It did??...You might wanna get that hearing tested there, Savvy, just saying.”

“Oh, no no no. I know what I heard. Dora…you like me, don’t you?”

“Well…I mean…so far, yeah, Savanna, I believe I like you. I don’t know everything about you—we just met today—but yes, from what you’ve shared with me so far, I think you’re sweet, and nice, and likable. So yeah. I do.”

“Hee hee…okay, well, then, you’re welcome, babe.”

“Hey, speaking of food and stuff, is it tough to work in a grocery store? I guess I’m just curious ’cause I’ve always been amazed how you guys know where absolutely everything is. I mean, there’s a reason they’re called supermarkets, right? They’re so big, and they have thousands of things. How do you commit all that to memory?”

“Well, it’s one of the things they train us on. We have a week-long orientation period before we’re allowed to work, but they pay us for it, which is real nice. And just like any store, whether you cashier, stock, handle the deli counter or whatever, you’ve gotta know where stuff is. You never know who’s gonna ask for what. And if you have to guess, or admit you don’t know, then customers assume no one does. Or that we’re incompetent. And it is a pretty basic concept. They’re there to shop, they have to find what they need. So they give us a directory, and we just…y’know, learn it. And of course, it gets easier over time. And the aisles have those signs to help everybody. I mean, even as a shopper, you visit your favorite store enough times, you start to remember the layout. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would. Although as shoppers, we usually just have our list of stuff to get. It’s like a scavenger hunt for us, if we’ve never been there before. I mean, no one really comes in wanting to buy the entire store, do they?”

“Heh! No, ya got a point there. So what do you do again? I’m sorry, with all the stuff we’ve been talking about I forgot.”

“That’s okay. I’m a receptionist in a geriatrician office. So I do the basic standard reception-y stuff: take calls, handle appointments, tell patients when they can go see the doctors, paperwork, receipts, all that. But yeah, I really wanna be a professional artist.”

“Sweet luck. I can’t draw a line. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun. ’S like coloring. Just more a form of entertainment for me, ’s all.”

“Well, that’s fine. I’m sure there’re plenty of things you can do well that I can’t. I bet’cha I couldn’t work in a supermarket.”

“Ohhh, you’re being a bit modest.”

“No, I mean it. That lady at the karaoke place may’ve accosted us, but at least she, eh, ‘e’scuse’d herself. That’s more than a lot of folks in the grocery store seem to be able to do. It’s like once they set foot inside, the words ‘excuse me’ just disappear from their vocabulary!”

“Well…I know that’s frustrating, but at the same time, you’ve gotta think about the motivation in a lot of shoppers’ minds. They wanna get what they need, pay for it, and get out. So they can get it home, be done with it, and it’s one less thing to worry about. Most of ’em are in a hurry. They don’t take the time to really wander around, explore, and stake out the place, and find stuff they’ve never seen before. ’Course, I know they’ve got other stuff to do. I work there. In and around my duties, I can do all the wandering I want.”

“You’re right…I guess…I dunno, I guess I’m just a real sucker for good manners.”

“Well, that would explain why that burp embarrassed you. But yeah, I agree; rude jerks are discouraging. A lot of ’em treat us like crap in the store, and, well…‘customer’s always friggin’ right,’ so there’s not a whole helluva lot we can do about it.”

“I guess. But seriously, though, as a shopper who does like to shop, honest to Saint Pete, how much energy does it take to work up the tiniest little ‘excuse me’? Or ‘thank you’? They’re only words, for heaven’s sake; they cost nothing! They’re free, in limitless stock, and so’s every form of punctuation! Like, hello, people! We are not experiencing a shortage of exclamation points here! You can afford to use them! Here, take a whole handful! Fill up your purse! We’ve got zillions! They’re free!!

“Oh—oh my gosh, I’m sorry, did…did I just make Coke come out of your nose?”

“Um…almost. Just a bit of bad timing. Or good timing, depending on your sense of humor. I think you have a great one, Dora.”

“Aw, thanks, Savanna! You’re really sweet! Hey, you got the shrimp over there?”

“You have a helluvan appetite too. Enjoy.”

“Mm! Arigatou, ba—er, uh, buddy. I know that’s Japanese, but I don’t know how to say it in Chinese.”

“And you were about to call me babe again, weren’t you?”

“Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. But I’ll tell you this: I’m a very affectionate person, especially in verbal terms. I call everyone cute little pet names and stuff like that. They don’t mean anything they don’t necessarily have to.”

“Then why’d you stop yourself that time?”

“…No reason.”

“Mm-hm…I’ll take your word for it.”

“Gosh, Savvy, thank you so much, that was an awesome din-din.”

“Yeah. And look at that: the sun’s down-down.”

“Hee! Yup, we’re just about all done-done. All we got left now’s the fortune cookies. …

“Mmph…Sav? What’s yours say?”

“’Ssee…‘You will open lots of doors with charm and patience.’ Cool! Your turn. …

“…Dora?...What is it?”

“…‘A stranger will soon enter your life…with many wonderful blessings to share.’” …

“Heh! Well, speak of the devil.

“…Dora? Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just…I-I just suddenly got wistful for a second there. I was thinking about my old roommate and B.F.F. She moved away a couple weeks ago and got a job in Wisconsin. It’s what she really wants, and I really am happy for her, I just…really miss her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Susanna…yeah. I know. Trust me, I noticed.

“Y’know what? I’ve made my decision. You, eh, can probably see where this is going, but, please, don’t get ahead of me here, just humor me. I’ve spent more time with you than anyone else who’s applied with me, and you’re certainly the first one I’ve had supper with. And as good as I felt about it before…and not that I put a lot of stock in fortune cookies…I can’t help it, it-it just feels meant to be.

“Savvy, my friend…I would be honored to open my door—and my arms—to you, and have you share my home.”

“Aw, Dora…I thought you’d never ask!”


PSSSLQs: Spoiler Alert

Saturday, September 10th, 2016, 6:30 p.m.

When the fateful Saturday was concluded, Dora set up a second appointment with Savanna to take her to the rental office and sign a lease. She showed her to the door with a giddy, “Omigosh, this is so cool and exciting; we’re gonna be roomies!”

Savvy was able to come back Wednesday morning, so the clam-happy Dora took her to meet the landlord, and they successfully shacked up on legal terms. Dora had to return to work at 2:00, so making sure Savanna was given her own key—and it worked—she encouraged her to start bringing her things anytime she wished. Her new roommate transported a few items each of the following days, before the weekend arrived and most of the work was done. The girls bought a stack of boxes, adjourned to Mr. and Mrs. Carlen’s house, and proceeded to relieve it of anything and everything of Savanna’s she wanted. They did so on both Saturday and Sunday, making several trips back and forth, and filling up the gas tank more than once. But it would be well worth it when all done.

On the night on Sunday, August the 21st, Dora’s—and Savanna’s—apartment was again much more full, with numerous random spots, and especially Savvy’s new room stuffed in boxes. Savanna was in no huge hurry to unpack them, and Dora couldn’t blame her. They were both exhausted. They’d hired movers and a truck for the bigger furniture, and the dozens of boxes were quite enough for their own arms. They knew it was wise to pace themselves, but at the same time, as Dora’d said, they were exhilarated.

What neither of them knew at the time, however, was that their shared exhilaration was divided from two sources. Dora was secretly elated inside to have what she hoped would be a new friend, with whom she could hang out indefinitely, and do all—most sorts of things together. As intriguing as the…remaining sorts of things struck her, it was too out of bounds to even consider right now. Savanna, on the other hand, was ecstatic to move out of her parents’ house. Just as with Dora’s, they enjoyed having her around, and the conditions and accommodations were nice enough. But Savvy considered herself now ready to fly the nest and hold her own reins. Unlike Dora, she’d no experience living on her own, and couldn’t wait to enjoy her newfound freedom.

Well, “freedom” was relative. Savanna’s parents watched her turn into a young woman and decided in agreement to let her start living as she pleased once she hit her 20s. They’d still offer guidance and advice, when solicited and sometimes not, but their daughter was an adult now. They knew and accepted it. They weren’t wild about her party-girl lifestyle, but as long as she wasn’t harming herself or her future, they had little worry. Savvy, as her nickname suggested, was a smart girl. She knew when to have fun and when to curb it.

Smart though she was, Savanna wasn’t academically gifted. She let her college career lapse several semesters in when it became just too much bother. Trying even her best produced only average grades. And she took note that graduating college today didn’t necessarily ensure the same success it might’ve done years ago. At the time, the country was in a giant recession, and the economy was crumbling around it. Actual college graduates, she saw, were teaching English to non-Anglos just to scrape out a living. Savanna was unsure what she was to do, except to be glad her folks had held on to their careers to support them.

At 26, her Angels opportunity appeared. The stores were sparsely scattered around America, but thus offered a novelty for customers who liked to try different places. In 2014, the store underwent a renovation and expanded, needing an additional fleet of trusty workers. Savanna found the job through an old college acquaintance. They applied together, and Savanna was taken onboard. Her friend was not, but later found successful employment elsewhere.

So began her lucrative career in the grocery industry. She scrimped, saved and put away her pennies, watching them grow in the adult version of the piggy bank. There was nothing wrong with staying with her Mom and Dad, but with the arrival of each May and another ring in her trunk, Savvy felt she was outgrowing her childhood home. The benefits of continuing to milk the cow were clear, but she was more than halfway through her 20s now. It was time to take on some responsibility, and reap the fruits of her individual labor.

She found Dora’s roommate ad through a Google search and some strategic link navigation. As she’d explained to her in their interview, Savanna wanted to live somewhere preferably close to Angels. But a short and easy commute was just a nice bonus for her. What really mattered to Savvy was the challenge and zeal of being on her own, learning to look after herself and her own affairs. Another aspect to which she looked forward was the additional leeway she’d be granted to stay out at night. Content as her parents were to let her be an adult, making her own decisions, they worried still because they cared and loved her. They were parents, after all; it was what they did.

During their first weeks together, Dora could hardly have been happier. She really enjoyed Savvy’s company, and it was nice having a second heartbeat around. What was yet nicer was that Savanna offered $800 for her split of August’s rent, though she didn’t even live there for the first half of it. And it meant Dora needn’t give up her beloved home. Not that this possibility weighed heavily on her mind, but she felt relieved nonetheless. And just as Dora’d been happy for Susie embarking to her new job, Susie was delighted for her.

But as August rolled to its limit and September took over, Dora began to notice something was amiss—well, on her end of things. On Savvy’s days off, she normally stayed home while Dora was at work. On days when their schedules were more synced, Dora came home most often to deduce her roomie was out for the evening. Which was nothing of a disconcertment at first. Savanna was her own person, she had her own lifestyle, and Dora intended not to interfere. She just wanted a little companionship, that was all. After all the time she and Susie spent palling around, she guessed she was more accustomed to hanging out with her roomie.

Savvy didn’t go out every night. Some afternoons she came home from the market, very tired from the night(s) before, and took a nap. Again, doing so was perfectly within her rights, and Dora couldn’t fuss at her for it, so, oh well. She supposed she could call some other chums, but they were always so busy. Perhaps she could ask Savanna to take her out, but she wasn’t the partying sort, and didn’t know how agreeable Savvy’d be to this anyway. She liked to think she should be able to get a little time with the person she lived with. She had really enjoyed herself so much on their interview, and now she understood why. She’d made a true connection with Savanna, the sort of connection that didn’t come along every day. Savanna’s presence filled her void. The interview, it would seem in a way, had spoiled her. Now that her galpal had a steady, reliable place to live, she was free to spend her nights in the eye of the partystorm.

They were both off on Labor Day, but this was the day Savanna was visiting her folks. Had Dora been a bit more desperate to spend some time with her, she might’ve tried to invite herself along. She’d like to meet the girl’s family at some point anyway, have them meet the dear lass who’d given their daughter a roof over her head. Well, she supposed it would happen eventually.

Much like she’d…also assumed…other things would happen…eventually…

Then she got a wonderful idea. She came home one day to find Savvy relaxing on the sofa, channel-flipping.

“Heeeeeyyy, roomie!” she greeted. “I’ve got a wonderful idea!”

“Oh, yeah?” Savanna put down the remote and sat up. “What?”

“Well. I wanna order us Chinese food again—my treat this time—and we can have it at the dining room table. Even by candlelight. And we can play Chinese checkers too! We can do absolutely anything we want to. We can get those individual cartons of our favorite ice cream. We can open the windows, we can go out on the balcony and blow bubbles, and we can stay up and talk all night if you want! Just like when we first met, only we can make it like a slumber party! It’ll be so much fun!”

Savvy smiled. “Okay, cool.”

Yay! “Great! Just tell me what night you’re free.”

“Well, uh…I think we’re both off on Sunday, the, uh…what is it, the 11th, I think? So…the night before should be good.”

Dora bounded into the kitchen. “That’s…yep, Saturday the 10th. A’righty! Saturday the 10th it is!”

And so Dora counted down the days, listing out more fun activities for them to engage in. She patiently waited it out, until finally, their planned date arrived. Savanna was to finish her shift at Angels today at 6:00, Dora’s normal quitting time on weekdays. So she should be home about ten to twenty minutes later, depending on traffic. Still, for a couple reasons, Dora thought it wise to do as they’d done in their meeting last month, and order a wide plethora of Chinese. So she did so.

She spent the next quarter-hour or so sitting at her bedroom desk, looking out the window for either the delivery or Savvy to arrive. While she waited, she retrieved her bubble bottle, slid open the window and started sending out bubble signals.

After she’d used enough fluid to feel the bottle lighten, Dora turned around to check the time. 6:30.

Hmmaybe she got caught in a real traffic jam.

She made sure her phone was on in case Savanna tried to call her. Thirteen minutes later, the food arrived. But Savvy had still not.

Dora was growing concerned. Their dinner was here and ready, and her roommate should’ve been home twenty minutes ago. Maybe she should try to call Savanna instead. She re-fetched her phone and dialed.

“Your call has been forwarded to an auto—”

Savvy wasn’t picking up the phone? She was never without her cell.

Beep. “Savvy? It’s me…Dora. It’s Saturday night—the 10th—and it’s about ten to 7:00 right now. I was, uh, actually kind of expecting you back home from work, like…half an hour ago, and…well, I ordered the Chinese, and it already came. I’m really hoping you’ll be back soon; I’m getting a little worried about you. I just hope nothing happened. Please call me when you get this. Thanks. Buh-bye.”

She returned to the dining room table, lit the candles and emptied some of the cartons onto her plate. The evening wasn’t exactly going as planned thus far, but she’d saved her appetite, and she was starving. And she didn’t want this food going to waste. So she dug in.


Sav Tonight

Saturday, September 10th, 2016, 9:39 p.m.

Sometime later during the course of the evening, a deflated Dora put the leftover food away, the candles out, herself on the couch, and the TV on. Savanna had neither come home nor returned her call. Dora was still frightened something happened to her, but moreover, she was disappointed, dejected and hurt. They had expressly planned this evening, together, in no uncertain terms. Savvy should have been here. Dora would like to believe the girl wouldn’t agree to spend the evening with her and then deliberately blow it off without even telling her. And she still didn’t know what really happened. She tried not to become too irked or upset until she found out.

Shortly after 9:30, she finally heard the key click in the lock. She sat up. The door opened, and in sauntered Savanna.

“What happened to you??” Dora very much wished to know.

“Wha…” Savanna seemed confused. She darted her eyes back and forth a few times.

“I-I was out. What do you mean, what happened to me?”

What do I mean?? “Savanna, I tried to call you like three times! And I left you a message!...Were you drinking?”

“Uh…I don’t know…”

Dora shot her a look.

“Wow, you were right; you are a terrible liar.”

“…Well, okay, a-a little, but no more than usual. Don’t worry, I took a cab. Both ways. You saw my car’s still right there.”

“Savvy…we were supposed to have dinner. And do some fun things together. I was expecting you, like, three hours ago.”

A look of regretful revelation washed over Savanna’s face. She gazed in the direction of the dining room, seeing the quenched candles.

“Oh, God…was that tonight?”

Yes, of course it was tonight! How…” Dora shook her head. “…I don’t believe this. You mean you just forgot??

“Well, I’m…I’m sorry, Dora, I didn’t mean to.”

Dora sighed. “I was really worried about you! I thought something terrible happened! I…how could you just forget about me?”

“W—Dora, I said I was sorry; I am! I wish I could go back and come home on time so we could have your evening. I…I really am sorry.”

My evening? This...Savvy, this was supposed to be our evening. I…”

Dora’s voice cracked. Savanna suddenly realized just how deeply she’d wounded her.

“…I was really looking forward to this! You…you always go out, and…you never spend time with me.”

A few seconds of silence dropped. Then Savanna lifted it.

“Dora, for the third time…I’m, sorry. Okay? I’m-I’m so not used to just staying home at night. And, I…guess I didn’t realize how much this meant to you. But…I never spend time with you? Dora…I can’t owe you my life. I’m your roommate, not your daughter. What…”

She sighed herself, feeling her own exasperation. She sat on the sofa beside her.

“…Dora…asking this as gently as I can…what is it you want from me?”

Dora sniffled, trying to push back a tear.

“…Savvy, if you’d asked me that last month, I would’ve said I wanted a new roommate and that was it. But…”

She shook her head again. “…I would’ve been wrong. And, I…I still feel a little guilty telling you this now. ’Cause you’re right; you don’t owe me your life, and I have no right to impose on you. You are my roommate—and you’re a terrific one—but…I have to be honest. I was hoping, all along, that…we could’ve been more than just roomies. It…it was all my fault. I mean, you couldn’t have possibly known what I really wanted. I didn’t even know what I wanted. But I do now.”

“I…think I do too. You wanted another roommate who’d also be your friend? Like…like, what’s her name, Susanna was?”

Dora dropped her face in her hands. She abruptly couldn’t hold the tears in any longer.

“Oh, Savvy!” she sobbed, feeling the buildup of the sorrow from the entire last month and a half. “I miss her so much!

Oh, God…” she thought she heard Savanna solemnly whisper. The next thing she felt was Savanna tenderly caressing her back.

“I’m truly sorry, Dora. Even more than before…now that I know what’s really going on here. You’ve…clearly been trying to get me to spend a little quality time with you since I moved in. And I didn’t have a clue, so I just kept going out. And when you threw together this thing for us tonight, with the dinner, and the…candles, and…whatever else, and…and it just completely slipped my mind…”

Dora tried to stop crying and pull herself together. She let her head drop on Savanna’s shoulder.

“…I guess I really hurt your feelings.”

Dora gave a small, silent, sardonic chuckle. “Good guess,” she mouthed.

“I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll have to move out if I’m not a good enough friend.”

“No!” Dora promptly raised her head to look her in the eyes. “Of course not! Oh, Savvy, for heaven’s sake, you were way better than any of those other people I interviewed. I need you. Even if you can’t be here and be my companion, I need your help, financially, you know that, and…and I love knowing you’re here with me…

“…Right in the next room when we’re asleep.”

Savanna looked back at her. Even though it was dark, she could read the inconcealable emotion in Dora’s eyes.

“Oh my God,” she reiterated. “You really do like like me, don’t you?”

Dora blinked away and looked down. “I’m sorry…I guess I just can’t help it.”

Whoa…” Savvy marveled. “…Did not see that coming.”

Another spell of silence settled, and once more, it was Savanna who broke it. She reached around to Dora’s front and held her hands.

“If you didn’t accept any of the other ones, please accept this one, Dora. I’m so sorry. So very sorry. And I’ll do whatever you want…”

She kissed away a residual tear on Dora’s right cheek…

“…Anything you want…”

…And then one on her left.

“…To make it up to you.”

Dora turned back to her, feeling something happy awaken her heart for the first time all evening. She gingerly pulled her right hand free from Savanna’s, reached to fondle her cheek, and next to trace her fingertips over Savvy’s lips.



Two Princesses, One Queen

Saturday, September 10th, 2016, 10:25 p.m.

Dora began by drawing her feet onto the couch, slipping her longing arms around Savanna, leaning in…and letting magic take over.

Their first kiss was nothing short of perfect. It set off the sparks of passion that had been yearning so badly to get out, and transformed Dora’s hurt feelings into sensations of joyous excitement. Once she felt Savanna kiss back with an all too recognizable desire, Dora Katie Cunningham’s entire life changed. She knew Savvy’s devotion was reciprocally true. Had either made a move or initiated an act of passion before tonight, one of them would inevitably have been unable to continue. It just wouldn’t have felt right or special enough. Now, however, having crossed this threshold of acceptance and realization…all systems were go.

They groaned and purred through the kiss till they couldn’t breathe anymore, and broke. Each nabbed a quick breath, gaped into one another’s ready faces, and launched into kiss number two. Their limbs extended and embraced, tighter and tighter…rubbing, groping, stroking…fingers running through locks of hair, bodies teeming with pleasure and warmth, mental fireworks about to go off…

Suddenly, Dora couldn’t bear to wait another moment. She shifted to lower her feet to the floor and stood, pulling Savanna with her.

Smack broke the second kiss. “Bedroom,” Dora steamily, hungrily requested. “Please.”

So in they trotted, practically diving under the covers on either side, shimmying to the middle to meet. Each kiss tasted so wonderful. Dora didn’t know what Savanna’d been drinking, but whether this or the girl’s natural flavor, her tongue liked what it sampled. Savanna had neither any complaints on her end. Dora tingled all over as she imagined her way into Savvy’s clothes, undressing down to that no doubt flawless, immaculate figure. Dora had a nice body herself, but just as with her facial and capillary beauty, it never in her mind compared to those of others. But tonight, she thought she’d let Savanna be the judge.

Savanna might’ve believed at first she was making out—and soon love—with Dora as a favor, as she’d said, to make up for forgetting their “date” night. But Dora’s blindly immense, dazzling passion swept her all but literally off her feet. She could never have imagined such a grand turn of events last month when she’d first met this girl—charming and comely though she was. Okay, so maybe she was a tad on the needy side, but Savvy didn’t mind. She rather enjoyed being wanted and needed around. When she’d come back in the door, and Dora’d given her—not quite the third but more like—the second degree, Savanna felt just a bit resentful. As if she were back under her parents’ roof, being verbally arraigned and laid into for dishonoring a curfew. But Dora was different. She just wanted someone to be there to keep her company. And Savanna could do that. She’d just go out a bit less often. Or take Dora with…although Dora didn’t seem like such a partier. But maybe, starting next month, she could take her to her bowling alley to be her cheerleader.

But that, of course, was in the future, she pondered, snaking her fingers around the edges of Dora’s garments. This was now, and this deserved special attention. The last time she’d made love to someone was frankly little to write home about. And though Dora detected it before she did, Savanna could see the two of them had secured a firm, unspoken bond in their little time together. Perhaps it was just the sort of attachment that living under the same roof offered. Perhaps there were more roomies with benefits than she thought.

She lifted Dora’s shirt and rubbed her belly. Dora did the same under Savvy’s, scratching her back. She then felt Savanna’s fingers slide up to her bra, underneath which tingled her two eager girls. Dora reciprocated, softly tickling Savanna’s stomach and upwards.

To her surprise, Savanna’s hands abruptly rerouted. They rapidly slid back down from her cup-caged tits and gripped her around the rear. One paw palmed over her pajama pants, the other inside to grab her between the pants and panties. Dora admired her enterprise. While neither hand touched her bare genital or posterior skin, she already felt a wave of erotic happiness raise her to the next level.

She decided to play coy and innocent, and leave Savvy’s naughty parts alone for the moment, to see what her companion would do next. She took Savanna by the (facial) cheeks and continued kissing. Savanna’s burrowing hand rooted around Dora’s thigh from back to front, found what it was looking for, and made contact.

Dora gasped out of the kiss, surrendering the first drops of moisture from her cunt, being gently pressed and massaged under the panties by Savvy’s digits. It seemed her roommate and playmate was setting about to expose her innocence as the transparent act it was. Her nipples twitched and poked the bra cups ever so slightly. A few beads of sweat materialized on her brow. Savanna’s aggression encouraged her own. She passed her paws down from Savvy’s face to her torso, and clutched her tits, through her top and bra.

It was Savanna’s turn to gasp. In a chain reaction of aggressiveness, she maneuvered her digits around Dora’s panties and fingered her slit, flesh to flesh. The first skin-on-skin contact ignited Dora’s sex drive, kicking it all up another notch and turning her into part woman, part animal. She spastically gasped once more, threw her head to the pillow, latched her mouth onto Savanna’s jaw, and sank her teeth. Savanna squeaked, realizing how hot she was making Dora. She took her outer paw up from Dora’s tush, manually found her bra hooks and undid them one by one, trying to concentrate equally on rubbing her pussy and making her yet wetter.

Dora was as randy as a stoat. Finding it tiresome to prioritize touching or disrobing, she snatched Savvy’s snatch through her jeans.

“Oh God!” she heard her proclaim. Savanna’s hands were momentarily jarred from their tasks, but returned as she forced her mental powers to override. Somehow, she got Dora’s bra loose, and her heaving breasts were freed. Savanna smoothed her free, proud palm over the unveiled prizes, forcing their owner to cry out in lust. Rendered a bit helpless by Savvy’s savvy advances, Dora felt slightly overwhelmed. But more, she felt gooood inside. And she very much wanted her to keep going.

She felt Savanna inch down her p.j.s and panties together, and helped kick them off when low enough. Dora’s top was taken from her as well, and before she knew it, she was naked in Savanna’s presence. Something, however, clicked in her memory. She piped up.


Savanna paused her activities to regard her.

“I know it may not be the best time…but I need you to do a couple things for me,” she panted. “First off…please…be gentle. The last woman I was with…played too rough with me…and I didn’t like it. And-and she wouldn’t let me see her naked. She made me get naked for her, but she kept her clothes on. I…wasn’t too crazy about that either.”

Savvy nodded. “Got it. Well…” She unhanded Dora, pushed up on one elbow, and yanked everything off herself in about fifteen seconds.

“There’s one problem taken care of. Now…”

They were nude side by side in Dora’s bed. Dora loved the view. She was right. Savanna Carlen’s physique was devastatingly hot. She was a bit too distracted by the splendor to hear what her bedmate said next.


“I said you can be on top if you want.”

A smile spread over Dora’s face. “Oh…I’d…I-I think I’d like that.”

So Savvy slid under, and Dora lapped above, mashing and grinding divinely against her bottom’s torso, midsection, legs. Her hair floated over Savanna’s face, sprinkling her in wisps. Further kisses followed, infused with the scents of hair botanicals, sweat, and pheromones. One of Dora’s hands cushioned under Savvy’s back, the other playing about her abs, ribs, hips, pelvis, and unchartered pussy. All of a sudden she was Dora the Explorer. She felt Savanna resume the similar activities, rubbing her half-inside the cunt, making her go insane. Her wet pussy leaked moisture on Savanna’s hand. It felt so intense, so powerful, so good

Upwards from the mutual jilling, the four tits brushed, joining, passing over one another and back again. When their nipples touched, each felt a small surge of electricity. It was almost akin to rubbing two sticks together to start a fire. Soon, Savvy felt another part of Dora drip and trickle down onto her, the rampant perspiration from her forehead. Dora grew bored of just teasing Savanna’s slit, so she zealously burrowed inside and plunged her pussy, ransacking from the walls, to the floor, to the ceiling, side to side, top to bottom.

Savanna screamed in uncontrolled eros, struggling for a means to return the gesture. Her face was covered in Dora’s hair as Dora planted a random array of kisses over her neck, chin and sternum. Both hands free—which was one more than Dora had—Savvy reached down to cull Dora open with one, and impose masturbatory madness on her with the other. Once her dominant hand was inside and doing its duty, Savanna let her other slip back behind, and play with Dora’s taint and asshole.

Dora gave out a screech, compelled to let the unparalleled sensations course and swirl through her. Buried in Savvy’s neck, her face contorted into a heated grimace. She supposed her savvy partner this evening might make her surrender and cum before she could perform the same, but if that were the case, so be it. It wasn’t a race, it wasn’t a competition, and unlike Marianne, Dora did plan to continue having succulent, sumptuous sex with this lady. And so on they would go, together literally dwelling on their time well spent.

She went on frantically ramming Savvy off nonetheless, letting her fingers ride the upper vaginal ridge on the way in and out, which Savanna—as well, she knew, as most girls—absolutely loved. It made sense, of course, being closer in proximity to her cl—

Her clit! Dora’d completely forgot about it, proof that her mind had turned to mush. She could hardly even discern if her dear Savanna was tickling her clit down there, crazy as she had her going. But she could try to exercise the dexterity to rotate her paw, and extend her thumb the little way north, in order to effectively strum Savanna’s clitty, to press her button, to ring her doorbell.

She pulled it off, and any hell that hadn’t yet broken loose did utterly so. The girls howled to the ceiling, their echoing voices rattling the walls. This being an apartment unit, they might well have disturbed some of their neighbors, but couldn’t care less. It was all too worth it. The lasses spun each other through the hidden dimension of sexual eden. They were flying. Stars blasted past them at light speed in the infinite reaches of time and space. The simulated feeling of zero gravity buffeted them aimlessly, but they remained firmly clenched in one another’s arms, inseparable by even the mightiest forces.

They were about to cum—mutually—together—and it seemed the final buildup just imminent to the climax was lasting forever. Neither could take it much longer. They shrieked in torrid harmony until their lungs went hoarse. They saw every color in the hundred-hued psychedelic rainbow, now having entirely lost their minds. Brilliance. Wonder. Awe. Every magnificent emotion linked in the veins warped the girls’ senses in their mesmerizing final few moments. Their shared world was about to explode, to veritably erupt, as they sat together on top of it. Their heads spun until it was all too much. And just when they couldn’t stand it one more second…

Finally…mercifully…it happened. They were granted their individual but virtually dual orgasms. Their shrill yowls logically reached the similar apex before everything hit the top of the arc and floated back down. The smoke cleared. The dust settled. And like a toy on its batteries’ last legs, their fingers slowed to a halt inside each other’s pussies. Their voices faded into low dull drones before toning out altogether. And slumber dropped its veil, urging them to submit beneath. Dora and Savanna didn’t know if they fell asleep right away, but the act, indeed as well as its sweet afterglow, would be fondly, and vividly remembered.


Midnight Messages

Sunday, September 11th, 2016, 12:18 a.m.
































Saturday, September 17th, 2016, 6:23 p.m.

Savanna came home from another day of work at Angels, as Dora stood in the kitchen, pouring spaghetti into a pot of water.

“Hi, hon!”

“Hey, babe. What’s for din-din?”



“Hey, you know what? I got some terrific news today! I actually spoke to the gallery, and they said they’d be interested in seeing some of my pieces! I’m gonna have my first showing!”

“Wow, that’s fantastic! I didn’t even know you decided to contact them.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure I felt confident enough for a long time. But after my most recent portrait, I suddenly realized the time was right.”

“Good for you, Dora! Can I see it?”

“Oh, by all means. I was hoping you’d ask; I think you’ll find it quite pleasing. Go ahead, it’s on my desk.”

Savvy tossed her purse and adjourned back to Dora’s room to check it out. Dora shut off the water and listened for the sound she knew was coming. She smiled as she heard it. Her benefitted roommate’s awestruck gasp.

The footsteps grew more audible again as Savvy returned to the kitchen. Astonishment read all over her face.

“I don’t believe it!...How did you do that??...”

Dora padded over, took Savanna in her hands, and kissed her.

“It was the easiest work I’ve ever done, sweetheart. I know your face so perfectly…

“I could’ve done it blindfolded.”