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Message-ID: <51222asstr$1116511803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Vivian Darkbloom <vdkblm-OBLITERATE-SPAM!-@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Hot Kitten Cafe {Mfff ped}
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Date: Thu, 19 May 2005 10:10:03 -0400
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                           The Hot Kitten Café

                          by Vivian Darkbloom

   Sapphire calmly sipped her ginseng-ginger tea, vivacious herbal
   aromas steaming as she blew across the rippling surface with her
   full red lips.

   Across from me she smiled and winked, dark-skinned, long dark
   curly hair tumbling carelessly across her shoulders. "I have this
   special double-dildo, see," she was explaining to the two blonde
   girls, Trudy and Kamilia, on my left and right. "with a
   vibrator," she added.

   As she spoke, her body unconsciously maintained a swaying dance
   back and forth, as if she were (though sitting there, real as
   real life in front of me, fully clothed in frilly black lace and
   fishnet stockings on the plain wooden coffeeshop chair) in some
   alternate reality actually engaged in having sex in a roomful of
   girls, the fantasy she carried in her head like a pop-song as she
   strolled through her day.

   Sapphire glanced left and right at the two blondes, Trudy with
   long hair, and Kamilia with short. Drinks set in front of all on
   the grey, simulated marble formica table, in a coffeeshop called
   the "Hot Kitten Café," nestled deep in the recesses of a nameless
   strip mall in a forgotten city somewhere in generic 21st-century
   America.

   My protegé (or should I simply say `friend?') Trudy, the prude,
   the long-haired with velvet-blue headband on my left, was tall
   and thin, and being 14 years old, was the oldest and most
   conservatively dressed of the bunch. Being the older man in the
   situation, my duty was to shield her from such prurient
   interests. But it hardly seemed appropriate to interfere with her
   socialization with girls younger than herself.

   Though it had started out with me simply being her math tutor, we
   discovered other shared interests and she eagerly absorbed the
   knowledge I had to offer on a variety of subjects, especially
   foreign art-films. We had gotten into a routine of attending the
   cinema together, then adjourning to a local coffee-house to
   discuss the hidden meanings, implications and intents.

   Although when asked directly about sex, Trudy would spit it out
   words such as "gross" and "disgusting," I had nevertheless long
   observed that she cherished a clandestine fascination with kinky
   forbidden sex talk, and I found myself helpless in my efforts to
   steer her clear of it. Nothing would ever come of it, of course.

   Trudy smiled and laughed nervously, her long straight delicate
   blonde hanging from the dark blue velvet ribbon she wore over the
   top of her head. Mindless `alternative' rock music chattered
   quietly, unlistened-to from the radio in the background, as the
   pierced, tattooed, and studded dyke behind the counter forcefully
   pulled another espresso, loudly steaming the latté creme.

   Two girls with pink and purple hair, arm-in-arm, awaited their
   caffeinated confections.

   Sapphire continued: "And see, what I like to do is, get myself
   all hot and wet, with my girlfriend watching, to the point where
   I almost have an orgasm. Then I strap on, put one end inside
   myself, and the smaller end inside my girlfriend's butt."

   Trudy laughed nervously. "You mean..." she giggled. "...not the,
   um, front."

   Sapphire continued smiling. "That's right baby. I go right in the
   rear exit." She paused to let the idea sink in, then continued.
   "Then she sits on the beautiful face of another hot and horny
   sweet young girl. So when she comes, it makes me reach my orgasm
   at the same moment. And man, oh man, " -- here, Sapphire tilted
   her head back in sweet reminiscing -- "flying stars and fireworks
   going off all over the place."

   Not knowing how else to react, Trudy laughed, as if it were the
   punchline of a hilarious joke.

   Short-haired blonde Kamilia seemed familiar with the experience
   of lesbian orgasm. She had just met Sapphire, and the two of them
   had invited us to sit with them in order to continue the
   conversation Trudy had gotten into with them about a teacher they
   had all shared at school. The subject of the conversation,
   needless to say, had shifted.

   "Have you ever had an orgasm with a guy?" Kamilia asked Sapphire,
   who gave a little laugh.

   "No, but I always wondered if it would have the same effect.
   Like, when the guy had an orgasm, would it make me come, the same
   way it does when I'm inside a girl?" She threw me a sly glance,
   sharp as a stiletto, that pierced to the bone.

   I had been nursing a hardon (and my double espresso) for the past
   seven minutes or so, not really believing the story, and hardly
   even believing that I was hearing it in the first place from this
   young teenager. And then her eyes in that fraction of a second
   tore jagged holes through my psyche, leaving me wholly cross-eyed
   and gaping helplessly as my mind babbled ghastly clichés and
   nonsense in an effort to tear my concentration away from the
   fantasy of having Sapphire inside of me, reaching her orgasm as I
   came inside one of her girlfriends.

   Or worse, having Sapphire inside my butt while I sent my sweet
   load deep into the girl I was supposed to be guarding from such
   things, Trudy herself. Guilt drove the nails of desire deeper
   into my crimson longing. As if she could hear the passion ringing
   inside my head, Trudy turned to me and gave a long flushed laugh,
   wild-eyed with her soft bum sticking out twitching behind her.

   I could tell from the feminine perfume that erupted from her soft
   presence, that Trudy had gotten all horny and hot from the
   conversation -- but it was equally clear that she was totally
   either unaware or in denial of her sexuality. Meaning that one
   tiny caress down the sweet crevice between her legs would trigger
   her to collapse into uncontrollably passionate shivers, not that
   that was ever going to happen, of course.

   My mind, swept away in vivid images, barely tracked the remainder
   of the conversation as it swerved along little-girl topics, from
   dresses to dolls to boys and cellular phones. The espressos and
   teas dipped lower and lower in the glasses and cups, until
   finally I heard (as if in the distance, through a fog) Sapphire
   complain about needing to wait for the bus, and Trudy respond by
   offering that I would be happy to give them a ride -- Kamilia had
   decided to spend some time visiting at Sapphire's house, even
   though Sapphire's mom was gone, out on a date, probably
   overnight.

   Soon, there we were in the car in the darkness, Trudy and I in
   the front, and Sapphire and Kamilia in the back, driving through
   the rural hills in the warm spring night air to Sapphire's house.
   The moisture-filled air smelled like dewy streets and fields, and
   now and then I had to send the wiper-blades streaking across the
   windshield.

   Trudy's cel-phone rang, and lit up electric blue as she pushed
   the button. "Hello?" Now her cheek lit up in blue. A glowing blue
   cheek, silhouetted with the outline of a phone-clutching hand.
   "Oh, hi mom. Nothing much, just headed with Ezeriah over to a
   girlfriend's house. No, mom, not his girlfriend, a girlfriend of
   mine from school. Uh huh. Uh huh. Ok, I will. `Night." She closed
   the phone, oddly reminding me of captain Kirk on the original
   Startrek.

   "Will what?" I inquired.

   "Oh. She asked me to turn off the porch light when I get in,
   `cause she's going to bed." Trudy scrunched her nose. "My mom is
   such an old hippie. She worries so much about wasting
   electricity."

   Sapphire and Kamilia sat touching in the back seat, and now and
   then Kamilia would lean over and her lips would brush Sapphire's
   cheek. Then one time, Sapphire turned to meet her, and the two
   girls' lips met -- I could see it in the rear-view mirror.
   Sapphire put her hand behind Kamilia's head to press her closer,
   then after a minute or so they parted.

   I don't think Trudy had noticed, or if she had heard she didn't
   look around, so I said nothing. Sapphire's eyes sparkled at mine
   in the mirror, in the darkness.

   I pulled in the empty driveway as directed, and left the motor
   running as the two girls got out and slammed the doors. Sapphire
   walked by my rolled-down window "You can come in for awhile and
   visit, if you like," she softly murmured. In the dark I could
   barely see her haloed face, and the words caressed my ears as if
   emerging from a feather-lined cavern.

   I glanced over at Trudy. Her eyes were like two stars next to me,
   reflecting the glimmer of the full moon light.

   "Sure," she shrugged.

   I killed the motor, and the sound of frogs and crickets emerged
   from the silence.

   Door-slams and footsteps followed.

   Inside the front door, Sapphire pressed the `play' button on the
   phone machine. The one message from her mom informed her that mom
   would be gone overnight and supper was in the fridge, love and
   kisses.

   Sapphire sighed and dropped her things on the table.
     ____________________________________________________________

   From beneath the undulating surface, the tea-leaves silently
   watched the room around, the four bodies seated, four points of
   the compass, one male and three female.

   From her lips arose whispered lines of prose, faintly spoken, but
   with intensity and clarity that cut like jagged glass through the
   silence of the dimly lit room.

   "The Tree," Sapphire spoke the title, "by Bilitis."

   "I undressed to climb a tree;
   my naked thighs embraced
   the smooth and humid bark;
   my sandals climbed upon the branches.

   "High up, but still beneath the leaves
   and shaded from the heat,
   I straddled a wide-spread fork
   and swung my feet into the void.

   "It had rained. Drops of water fell
   and flowed upon my skin.
   My hands were soiled with moss and my heels
   were reddened by the crushed blossoms.

   "I felt the lovely tree living
   when the wind passed through it;
   so I locked my legs tighter,
   and crushed my open lips
   to the hairy nape of a bough."

   As she spoke the final words, we could hear the patter on the
   rooftop of rain beginning.

   The tea leaves felt the shadowy approach of Sapphire's hand as
   she reached to agitate the strainer, then darkness closed round
   as she put the lid on the pot.

   "Tea, anyone?" she solemnly poured into all four cups, and as the
   rain intensified, the air brightened with the incense-smell of
   steamed green tea with jasmine leaves.

   Kamilia impulsively leafed through an oversized illustrated book
   on the topic of massage as she sipped. "Do you have oil?" she
   inquired.

   "Sure thing," replied Sapphire, disappearing into a back room
   momentarily, then reappearing with several plastic bottles of
   massage oil, one clear and the other tan opaque, and a pile of
   blankets. "It's better if you have something to lie on," she
   explained, spreading them on the floor.

   Trudy innocently smiled her usual disavowing grin at me. A wind
   picked up, and droplets ticked against nearby windowpane,
   invisible in the night blackness.

   Sapphire had returned to her seat, after exchanging a wickedly
   flirtatious glance with Kamilia, and we sipped in silence,
   listening to the crescendoing storm as the falling precipitation
   created a quiet roar above us, and gutters began to rush with
   their miniature rivers, and large drops splattered in the dirt
   becoming mud outside.

   A large black cat gracefully glided between us, tail aloft as she
   nuzzled the corner of the table with her whiskers.

   "Oh Quantum," cooed Sapphire, picking it up onto her lap and
   trying to pet it. Quantum bristled subtly at the dislocation, and
   jumped down onto the floor, vanishing (Cheshire-like) under the
   table, all except for the switching tail.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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