## Archive-name: elizabeth_and_anastasia1-8^8

From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com>

Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (1/8) NEW STORY!

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 1 of 8

This is a love story based on the relationship between two young women. It covers a little under two years of their lives. There is sex, but it's part of the story, not the predominant theme. You can find plenty of sex romps in other stories in this newsgroup. Tales of love are much rarer and harder to write.

Warning: The sex in this story is limited in quantity and arrives quite late. If you are in a hurry, skip directly to chapter six and read to the end. You won't have any idea who these people are, but you'll probably get your jollies.

Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

Author's notes:

I welcome any comments about this work, and will read them if passed on through the original poster (editor) to me.

This is a complete work, not a work in progress. It fully explores the emotions and events of a young, rather innocent, inexperienced girl who falls in love with another woman. The subject matter is not to everyone's tastes. There is sex, graphically described, but it is kept within the bounds of the storyline, and is limited in quantity.

I do not personally post. If you receive only partials of this story, you will need to plead with the reposters and archivers. I do not do requests.

This is the first erotic story I have ever shared publicly. It is not, however, my first story, as I have written others, both erotic and non, and will even occasionally admit to poetry.

I write strictly for my own enjoyment, but was convinced by a friend to share my erotic works with others. (Actually, she told me off. Such language!) Who knows, maybe somebody else might like them too. I give permission for anyone to archive or share this story. If anyone makes a profit from this, please drop me a note to say how and where, and donate my writer's share to a local charity.

Tom Bombadil is a pseudonym obviously (originally a character from Tolkien)

<<present>> Aftermath, plans for the beach, school & practice & Joyce <<past>> Visit with the Vice Principal, an apology, first contact

<<present>>

Betty was mad at her father. Really mad, and deeply hurt. He had almost literally thrown Stacy out of the house, screaming at her, shouting that if he ever saw her around his daughter again, he'd kill her.

That was almost a week ago.

Since then she hadn't seen or heard from Stacy and the many secretive calls she'd made to the older girl's apartment hadn't been answered. She knew her lover wouldn't dare call, afraid that Betty's father would answer the telephone.

Yesterday, skipping out of school in the afternoon, she'd gone over to Stacy's apartment, hoping that she'd be there, but got no answer to the buzzer. After hanging around for more than an hour, waiting and hoping, but without any luck, she went home.

Feeling abandoned, fearing that her father may have been right, or at least had scared Stacy away permanently, she climbed into her bed. That emptiness inside she now recognized as a hole in her heart, even worse than the one she'd had when her mother left home. It was as though history was repeating itself, with Stacy taking her mother's place as the target for her father's anger. Mom had disappeared from Betty's life right after that last big fight with dad, five years ago. Not a single visit, telephone call, letter, card or anything. It felt like the earth had swallowed her up. Just like it seems to have swallowed Stacy. Would she ever see her lover again?

Once more she cried herself to sleep.

<<past>>

It was a minor crisis in Betty's life that brought her into contact with Stacy for the first time. She was having serious problems in English that year, with her grades for the first half of the year sitting at a bare passing mark, and looking like they'd be falling to failure level soon.

Sitting in Ms. Flanders office, the vice-principal of the school, Betty was trying to explain why and having a very difficult time doing so. She was feeling mortified, red-faced with embarrassment, and was almost in tears. Her first explanation, the one she'd been rehearsing for days, had been utterly rejected.

"Elizabeth, I've looked at your marks from the last few years and spoken to a few of your teachers. There isn't a hope in hell you'll ever convince me that you can't understand what's being taught by Mr. Valdez. The man can teach, and no other students in his classes are having the same problems you are. I have extreme doubts that the content of the course is too difficult for you. Now then, you and I are going to sit here until you tell me what the problem is, even if it takes until midnight."

Ms. Flanders dark brown eyes seemed to stare right through Betty. Done up in her usual impeccable business dress, her hair pinned back, with her strong, almost masculine face, the V.P. seemed the model of stern authority. She had a reputation for being able to ferret out the truth from anyone, and for being very harsh to those who lied to her.

"Look, Elizabeth, I know there's something wrong here. If you don't talk to me, I can't help. You should realize that English is one of the few required courses. If you fail, you may not be able to graduate on time. It is very important."

Ms. Flanders sat back, turned her chair slightly, and seemed to look off into the distance. There were no windows in this office to stare out of, which is why she used it for potentially difficult or delicate meetings. Redirecting her gaze, and seemingly her attention, temporarily elsewhere gave Betty a chance to recover somewhat.

"Ms. Flanders, if...if I tell you, will you promise to keep it a secret? Please? My father would kill me, and I'd never be able to face my friends again. Please?"

"That depends. If something illegal is going on, or someone is being or has been hurt, no, I can't promise. If it's strictly a personal matter, I probably will. I have to live with my own conscience so I can't make any guarantees, but I will try."

"This...this is really hard for me." Betty was going to tell the truth this time. Embarrassing as it was, she didn't want to fail, and she knew she would if she stayed in Mr. Valdez class. Slowly, haltingly, she told Ms. Flanders.

"It's true that I can't seem to learn anything from Mr. Valdez. It's not his teaching, it's him. He leers at me. All the time in class. He made me sit in the front row so he could see me better. It's so, so, ugly, the way he makes me feel, like he can see me naked or something. I can't concentrate, can't think. All I can feel is his eyes staring at me. It's horrible. And now he wants me to stay after school with him because my grades are so bad. I couldn't. I can't stand him looking at me anymore. Please."

Betty's voice gave out. She was embarrassed and humiliated at having to tell Ms. Flanders about it, afraid she'd tell his father, but even more afraid Ms. Flanders wouldn't believe her and she'd have to go back to Mr. Valdez class. Staring at the floor, red with shame, she was unable to look the vice-principal in the eye.

"Is this the truth?"

"I don't know. I don't know if it's him or if it's me, but that's why I can't learn from him." Betty stared at the floor, unable to look at the older woman, afraid that she'd be called silly, or something worse.

They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, Betty too upset to speak, Ms. Flanders thinking. If Mr. Valdez was staring, she couldn't really blame him all that much. Elizabeth was one of the four or five prettiest girls in school. At 5'5" and still growing, she wasn't all that tall, but her willowy figure, long arms and legs, and high, slender neck made her look taller. She had smallish breasts, possibly a B cup, and they suited her figure. Her hips were slim, but they did curve out somewhat from her narrow waist, and her bottom looked nicely rounded and firm. Long, chestnut hair reached down to the center of her back. Her face matched the rest of her body. It was delicate, almost elfin in its fineness, with lightly tanned skin, pale red lips, and a slight flush to her cheeks. The crowning glory which set her apart from most of the other girls, even the older, more developed ones, were her eyes. They were large and expressive, light-brown in color, always bright and sparkling. When you looked into her eyes you could feel yourself falling into them, wanting to hug and cuddle this lovely, sensuous, vulnerable child.

Yes, she could see Mr. Valdez staring at this girl, his mind running through many lewd fantasies, all of which would be reflected in his eyes. Especially with what she knew of his personal tastes.

Betty broke the silence. "Ms. Flanders, are you going to tell my dad?"

After a short pause, she answered. "I'm going to have to tell him something. After all, there has to be a reason for your poor grades. Giving him the same story you gave me, though, would probably cause ...difficulties... for you, for me, for Mr. Valdez. I think I'll avoid explanations and just say you were having some problems. I assume you want to transfer into another class?"

"Yes."

"Very well. It means you'll be swapping your English period with another subject, changing two classes. You've also missed out on a lot of school work and you'll need to pick that up somehow during the rest of this year. It's either that or summer school. I'm going to recommend to your father that you get a tutor."

The rest of the meeting was a bit of a blur for Betty, her relief making her somewhat light-headed. She wouldn't have to face that man any more. The only thing that stuck out in her mind was Ms. Flander's comment that she'd have a private word with Mr. Valdez about this business.

The lady smiled to herself as Betty left, elated at this news. It was just the edge she needed. She'd lost two of her toys recently, one to a corporate transfer, and one she'd given away to repay a debt. Replacing them adequately was usually a time-consuming and laborious job. In her eyes, Mr. Valdez was a prime candidate, especially with the several levers she now had against him. This was going to be fun.

Her conversation with Betty's father was short and to the point. Betty was failing the class because of her teacher. Ms. Flanders would be taking personal charge of disciplining the man, so there'd be no need for any other action. Betty was innocent of any blame, and didn't even understand the problem. She'd be transferred to another class. A tutor for the next few months for catching up in her work would do wonders and, yes, she had a few she could recommend.

<<present>>

The next morning, at breakfast, things didn't get any better.

"G'mornin' short stuff." He always called her that when he was trying to be nice and cheerful. It was a leftover from when she was a little kid, and didn't really apply to her 5'7" willowy frame.

"Hi dad."

"You know, you haven't been looking to good lately. I think you need to get away for a bit. How about we head out for a beach holiday this weekend? Lots of sand, sunshine, ocean waves, boys on the beach, everything a young girl could ask for. What do you say?"

"No thanks, dad. I really wouldn't enjoy it."

"Nonsense. As soon as you got out there you'd perk right up and start having a great time. I'll make the reservations today and we'll head out friday after work. Patsy just loves the beach so I'll let her know what our plans are."

Patsy was dad's girlfriend. She was part of the reason mom and dad split up five years ago. Patsy said she loved dad, but not enough to marry him. Betty hated her.

"Dad, if you want to go to the beach, no problem. Take Patsy, she would love it. Don't expect me to go because you think I need a change of scenery. You know why I'm upset, so just leave it alone. Okay?"

"Betty, there's no way that I'm going to let you ruin your life like this, especially after what happened to your mother. You're young, resilient. You'll be over it soon and get back to having a normal life. You'll see. It'll just take some time."

"The only person trying to ruin my life right now is you, and you're doing to me the same thing you did to mother."

"ENOUGH! I'm NOT going to sit here and listen to you harp on about what YOU think I did to your MOTHER! God damn it anyway! She went squirrelly before she left, and I'm NOT going to have that happen to me twice! And that's final! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

Jumping up from the table she ran to her room, slamming the door behind her, and fell on the bed, sobbing.

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door. Her father, not getting an answer, walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Betty, please, listen to me. I'm only doing this because I think it's what's best for you. I don't want to see you hurt, or see you waste your life. I love you too much for that. I do know how you feel right now, but these things blow over."

He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but at the first touch she jerked violently away. He sat there for several seconds, then got up and left. She heard him moving around the house for a few minutes, then heard the front door open and close as he left for his office.

She lay there, waiting for the tears to stop. Between arguing with her father for the last week and the fear of losing Stacy, she was drained and deeply tired. Finally she forced herself to move and went to the bathroom to wash. After changing and gathering her things for school, she left, locking up behind her.

<<past>>

It was about a week after her meeting with Ms. Flanders that two events took place. One was at school, and the other was at Betty's house.

Betty was nervous. She'd been told to report to Ms. Flander's office directly after school. No reason was given, so her mind was free to imagine the worst. At least there wasn't much time for her to think about it, having been told just before her last class of the day.

Of course, that last hour dragged on interminably. The teacher droned, the chalk screeched, and the clock never seemed to move. She didn't have the slightest idea what went on in class. By the time the final bell rang, Betty was impatient and itching to get it over with. Packing up quickly, she dumped everything into her locker and headed straight for the V.P.'s office.

It was only when she neared her destination that the nerves and doubts came back, slowing her steps. The secretary didn't help any, giving Betty no clues as to what she could expect, ushering her straight in. Apparently she was expected.

Ms. Flanders was there in her seat behind the desk, working on some papers that looked rather official.

"Hello again Elizabeth." She gave the girl a big, warm, welcoming smile. "Have a seat. It'll be a few minutes yet before we can get started, so just relax a bit."

That smile did wonders for Betty. There was still a touch of nervousness, not knowing what to expect, but her apprehension, and most of the tension, were gone. She spent the interval watching Ms. Flanders out of the corner of her eye. The older woman seemed to be very happy about something. Her mouth was curled up in a faint smile, her eyes sparkled, and Betty could just hear her humming a tune under her breath.

A knock on the door interrupted Betty's secretive observations.

"Come in."

Betty sat there after the door opened, once more the scared little girl. Mr. Valdez stepped into the room and closed the door. There was a sick feeling in her stomach, and she couldn't look at him. She sat there quietly, staring at the floor, not knowing what to do or say. A quick glance at Ms. Flanders didn't help, as there was now a stern look on her face, along with something else Betty didn't recognize. Much later in life she'd see that look again and recognize it for what it was - amused contempt.

"Sit down." This was not an offer or a request, it was an order. He sat.

"Elizabeth, Mr. Valdez has something he'd like to say to you."

Betty looked across the desk, but found no clues as to what was going on, as the older lady was looking at Mr. Valdez and her expression showed no change. Finally she had no choice but to look at her ex-teacher.

His eyes were downcast, looking at the carpet. His shoulders were slumped, his back slightly bent, head forward. He looked like a guilty puppy hearing the newspaper being rolled up.

"Well?" This word from the V.P. seemed to spur him into action.

"Elizabeth, I'd ... I'd like to apologize for the way I've behaved this year. Mist, uh, Ms. Flanders has...shown me how...poorly I've been behaving." He glanced rather guiltily from the floor to the V.P., returning his stare to the carpet quickly. "I'm not asking you to forgive me for what I've done, because I don't expect ... forgiveness, it's just that ... that I need to tell you how sorry I am for what I've done."

After another quick glance at Ms. Flanders, he continued.

"I'm told that it's because of me that you got poor marks in my class. In order to make amends, I can give you make-up exams at the end of the year. Those results would replace your earlier marks and be recorded in your permanent record. I know it's not much, but I hope you can accept it as a small gesture of penance on my part."

With that, he stopped speaking. Betty was a little shocked. Was this the same man who'd been haunting her nightmares for all these months? In fact, looking carefully, Betty saw that he was squirming slightly in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable, and yes, he was even blushing! He still hadn't looked her in the eye.

"That was very good Mr. Valdez. Very good indeed. You may leave now." Again, an order, not a request. Finally he looked at Betty, smiling slightly, looking rather embarrassed, and blushing even harder. Standing, he offered his hand to her and she shook it without thinking. His palm was dry and hot, matching the heat radiating from his face. Releasing her hand, glancing once more at Ms. Flanders, he left.

After the door closed, Betty looked at Ms. Flanders. That self-satisfied smile was back and her eyes were once again glittering.

"All right Elizabeth, I believe we're finished now. I don't think Mr. Valdez will be doing any more 'leering' in the future. You just make sure you're ready for those make-up exams. Thank you for stopping by."

Betty found herself outside the office and walking down the hall before her mind clicked back into focus. 'I don't know what happened, but that was NOT the same person.' It didn't take a genius to figure out that she had nothing more to fear from Mr. Valdez, and that Ms. Flanders had a lot to do with it.

Still seated in her chair, finishing up the day's paperwork, the V.P. allowed herself a few minutes of lazy satisfaction. Yes, a nice week's work. A lot had been accomplished with him so far. And Mrs. Valdez was certainly much happier with her 'new' husband. Humming to herself, rehearsing the evening's 'activities' in her mind, she packed up and headed for home.

It was later that evening, well after dinner, that there was a knock on the door. Betty went to the answer it as usual since her father got grouchy if his reading was disturbed. This time he put down the book and followed her.

"Hello, is Mr. Brust in?" Betty was looking at a rather tall, slender, older girl, one she didn't recognize. Standing behind her was another figure, rather indistinct, but definitely large and masculine.

"Hello." said Jonathan, from behind Betty's shoulder. "You must be Stacy. Come on in."

The tallish girl and the taller gentleman behind her both came in.

"Hello Mr. Brust. Yes, I'm Stacy. Ms. Flanders tells me you're looking for a tutor for your daughter?" She glanced over at Betty with a questioning look.

"That's right. Stacy, this is Betty. We're looking for an english tutor, someone to fill in what was missed in the first half of the year. I understood, though, that there would only be one of you."

"That's right, just me. Mr. Brust, Betty, this is Woody."

Woody was the kind of guy women's wet dreams are made of. Around 6'4", he was muscular and well-built without being heavy, had dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and soft lips curled up into a permanent smile. He looked mediterranean, possibly greek, but with a finely chiseled profile. His age was hard to guess but he looked like he'd be in his mid-to-late twenties. When he spoke, it was with a fairly deep, almost baritone voice, silky smooth, with a hint of a french (?) accent.

"Good evening to you both. Don't worry, I won't be staying long. I just came by to check things out. You can't be too careful these days. I wouldn't want anything to happen to my little girl." He was looking straight into Jonathan's eyes when he said that, but smiled.

Jonathan, Stacy, and Betty talked about the details of the tutoring for the next several minutes - how often, which evenings were best, cost and payment schedules, and duration. Once things were settled, Stacy said there was no time like the present to get started.

Stacy turned to Woody, who had been silent during this exchange. "Thanks for coming, Woody. I'll see you later."

"Most certainly." With that, he pulled Stacy to him with one arm, leaned over, and gave her a long, deep, passionate kiss. Betty, watching this, was at first embarrassed. As the kiss carried on, her embarrassment turned into a bit of breathless excitement. She could feel her pulse quicken and her heart beat harder as that kiss went on. It seemed almost endless.

Her father watched the kiss with some relief and some disappointment. He was disappointed because it was apparent from this kiss that the two were lovers <he was wrong, but didn't find out for a long time> and when he'd first seen the gorgeous lady, he'd thought about making a few passes at her. That Woody guy didn't look like the kind of man you'd want mad at you though. He was relieved because of this same kiss. The girl had been recommended by Ms. Flanders and he was somewhat suspicious of that woman due to some lingering rumors about her personal life. After what he'd gone through with his wife, he was suspicious of everybody. This girl now seemed safe.

After breaking their kiss, Woody headed out. Betty and Stacy went into Betty's bedroom to work as all her school materials, as well as her desk, were in there. Jonathan went back to his book.

The two girls set up a work schedule as had been discussed, adjusting the sessions around both Betty's and Stacy's commitments for the next few weeks. Stacy then pulled out a worklist of items to be covered. Going through it, she gave Betty several reading assignments to be completed by the start of their next session, monday of the following week.

Betty was studying Stacy surreptitiously, envying the taller girl her calm, dignified appearance, her confidence, her poise and elegance. Betty knew she looked good, but she lacked the self-assurance and physical grace of the older girl.

She found out that Stacy was a senior at another high-school in town, finishing out her grade 12 and graduating this year, was an honor student (straight A's), just turned 18, had her own apartment (Wow!) and lived alone. Betty was too embarrassed to ask about Woody.

It turns out Stacy knew her english. She seemed to have memorized the contents of every textbook Betty had, even though she admitted she'd never seen most of them before. Not just the english ones either. Betty was jealous, knowing how hard she herself had to work to keep her marks where they were.

This jealousy extended into the physical as well. Stacy was a good six inches taller than Betty, around 5'11", not including her shoes. This meant Betty was always looking up, and Stacy was always looking down. The older girl also had a better figure, filling out a little more in the bust and the hips, while still looking slender. A mane of honey-blonde hair cascaded (literally!) in waves from her head to below her shoulders. Her face was oval, framed by her hair, ending in a petite little cleft in her chin. Pale blue eyes, blonde, almost invisible eyebrows, long slender nose, and wide expressive mouth with soft full lips completed the picture. Betty thought she looked gorgeous.

That evening's session ended fairly early, being their first, and both were tired, glad it was over. After Stacy left, Betty cleaned up the mess, then went in to sit with her father for the rest of the evening.

<<present>>

School that day was an absolute drag. It wasn't that she didn't like school or anything, she did, and got good grades to prove it. It's just that she couldn't keep her mind focused. It kept drifting off into thoughts of her mother, Stacy, her father, and the reason for all the arguments. She wasn't even looking forward to her basketball practice after school.

Some of her friends sort-of knew what was going on. Most were embarrassed by her relationship, but a couple understood and tried to help, even one of the guys. Just like the last few days, all she did was say hi and listen in while they all chatted.

Practice was worse than she thought it would be. Her coach kept harping on her to concentrate, to think about what she was doing and stop daydreaming. Afterwards she was taken aside for a short chat.

"Look, Betty, I know something's bothering you. You haven't been yourself for days now. I don't know what it is, but I do know it's not a new boyfriend. You don't have that dreamy look. Now, I'm not the best person in the world to talk to about personal matters, but I think you should find someone to talk over whatever problems you have. Maybe go see one of the school counselors, or one of your teachers, or someone like that. It's really affecting you and your performance. Okay? Now go have your shower."

Mrs. Vickers was like that - brusque, no-nonsense, and to the point. A few of the girls that didn't like her called her a dyke, said she didn't have any feelings, but most of us knew that wasn't true. Mr. Vickers, who came out to some of the games, was proof of that. She always seemed to come alive when he was around, almost glowing with happiness, and you could see the love in his eyes when he looked at her. Sometimes Betty felt envious, witnessing how happy they were together.

When Betty got home, before she opened the door, she was surprised to hear a voice calling her name. It was Joyce, her neighbor.

Joyce was an older lady, just into her sixties, still active and enjoying life. She'd been living here for many years, ever since her husband died. When Betty's mother had been around, she and Joyce were close friends and included Betty in that friendship. She thought Joyce sort of knew she and Stacy were close, but Betty had never told her about their special relationship. One thing Joyce told Betty a few months ago, something that had surprised her, was that Joyce had never really liked Jonathan, her father, calling him a mule-headed antique.

"Betty, could you come over here please? Just for a minute. I need your help in the kitchen." This sounded weird. Betty had never been any good in a kitchen, especially if it involved food, and everybody knew that. Curiosity won out (as always) and she went over.

"Betty, close the door please. Thanks. Have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?"

This was getting stranger by the minute. "Sure. I wouldn't mind a cup, thanks."

Joyce puttered around for a few minutes, preparing the tea, getting the milk and sugar, setting everything out on the table.

"Joyce, what was it you wanted my help with?"

"Don't be silly dear. That was just in case your father was listening. I wanted to talk to you about Stacy."

Now that was a surprise. Joyce rarely mentioned Stacy's name, never mind talked about her.

"Okay, you've got my attention. Go on."

<<End of chapter 1>>

Next chapter <<present>> Joyce reveals some secrets, a dinner run, a meeting <<past>> Heavy studying & their first date, lost opportunities,
dinner and a show

public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email "To Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Path: bull.hkstar.net!news1.hk.linkage.net!hk.linkage.net!hpg30a.csc.cuhk.hk!news.cuhk.edu.hk!news.glink.net.hk!uunet!in3.uu.net!iglou!stbush From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (2/8) X-Sender: stbush@iglou X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.93.960823075416.3329B-100000@iglou> Sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator) Reply-To: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Fri, 23 Aug 1996 11:58:22 GMT Lines: 864

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f]

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 2 of 8

Disclamer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>> Joyce reveals some secrets, a dinner run, a meeting <<past>> Heavy studying & their first date, lost opportunities,
dinner and a show

<<past>>

The study sessions with Stacy were grueling to say the least. Everything had to be perfect, every word written, every answer, every paragraph read. It seemed Stacy expected Betty to memorize everything given to her. Period. She somehow managed to zero directly in on anything Betty had skimmed or didn't understand. Her attitude was brusque, almost to the point of rudeness, and irritated the younger girl to no end.

Betty thought Stacy hated her. She didn't care much for Stacy either.

Things almost came to a head in one particularly brutal session about six weeks after they'd started. Stacy was in fine form, tearing holes in the work Betty had done, picking out small problems and faults, even where Betty could have sworn there were none. Betty had been having some arguments with her dad recently and was in no mood for this. Her temper was beginning to fray, her voice getting louder, her answers getting sharper.

After about an hour, Stacy leaned back into her chair, put her hands behind her head, and stretched. She held that position for a while, just seeming to relax.

"Betty, I've had enough of this crap for a while. Let's go out for a coffee or something. My treat. We'll get back to it later."

There were several firsts for Betty in this. She'd never seen Stacy in this kind of mood before. She'd never been offered any kind of personal connection before, and she'd never ever heard Stacy swear before. She was a little leery of this.

"How come the sudden change of pace?"

Stacy stayed in the same stretched-out position. There was a pause before she answered.

"My workload's been brutal lately. I really need a break, and I'd prefer it in the company of someone pleasant and charming."

Pleasant and charming? This was from Stacy, the person who'd spent nearly two months shredding every bit of work Betty had done? The same person who'd been snapping and growling at her the whole time? The one who Betty could swear hated her?

"Don't get me wrong on this, but I thought you really didn't like me."

"Mmmmm." She stretched a little more, using her hands to rub the back of her neck and scalp. "Betty, Betty, Betty. Whoever said such a nasty thing was both a fool and a liar."

"Stacy, you've been harping on me, degrading my work, and chewing me out every chance you got since the day we started this tutor stuff. What the hell am I supposed to think?"

Stacy stopped her massage and put her hands down the side of the chair, leaned her head forward, eyes closed, stretching and loosening the muscles in her neck. It was a few minutes before she answered.

"You're right. Look, I'm sorry. It seems I've been taking out my personal frustrations on you. If it helps, I'll tell you why. I've got a big workload at school, trying to maintain my grades so I can get a scholarship for college. I've got to work as well, as much as I can, to try and help my dad support me here. My last lover and I broke up a couple of months ago, and I don't have any really close friends here that I can dump my problems on. I guess it's been a bit more pressure than I can really cope with. You've been the unwitting target of my aggravations. I apologize. And yes, I really do like you. I promise I won't bite you anymore. At least, not unless you really deserve it." She said that last bit with a shy half-smile, and a glance at Betty.

Betty saw that smile and decided that maybe Stacy wasn't all that bad. "Y'know, you have been acting like a she-devil who's sole mission was to *make*my*evenings*a*living*hell*." Her voice became deeper and coarser as she said those last few words. It was a poor imitation of the announcer on the horror flicks, but still recognizable.

"Ouch! I guess I deserved that. I do need to get away from this mess, even if it's only for a little while. You haven't said yes or no yet, Betty."

Stacy was still stretched out in her chair, head now hanging back, eyes closed, seemingly relaxed. For some reason, Betty thought she saw Stacy tense up slightly after that last sentence. It was rather odd, but it reminded her of a guy who'd asked her out on a date last week. She'd turned him down (he was a geek) but still felt sorry for him when she'd seen that brief look of pain in his eyes.

It was something of a decision. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know Stacy any better, especially with the way she'd been treated for the last while. But then again, maybe the real person was finally starting to show through. It certainly couldn't make these tutoring sessions any worse. 'Oh, what the hell. Why not.'

"Yes."

Stacy had been tense, waiting for her answer. Betty saw the faint but unmistakable signs of Stacy's body relaxing slightly, especially around the shoulders.

Betty changed out of her sweats into tight jeans and a nice blouse. She felt a bit embarrassed about changing in front of Stacy, not really understanding why. Shaking it off as illogical, she still noticed that the older girl was watching her carefully out of the corner of her eye, especially when she was squirming into her jeans.

Jonathan didn't even look up when Betty told him they were taking a break and heading out for a cola someplace. It wasn't until they were in Stacy's car and heading down the road that either of them spoke again.

Breaking the silence, Betty went first. "Stacy, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two had broken up. He seemed like such a nice guy, too."

"He?" Betty took that as a question of identity, not realizing there could be another interpretation of its meaning.

"Yeah, that guy you were with the first night you showed up at my place." Seeing a puzzled look on Stacy's face, she went on. "You know, the tall dreamy looking guy, sort-of italian? Come on, Stacy. I'd never forget a kiss like that in a million years!"

"Oh. Right! Woody. He came over that night."

"That's the guy."

Stacy laughed a bit. Betty saw that the older girl was blushing.

"Sorry Betty, I couldn't help myself. That was only a couple of weeks after my breakup. And no, Woody wasn't my lover. He's a dear friend that likes to look after 'his little girl'. Of course, he's got a few dozen little girls to look after, and a couple of them are old enough to be his mother."

"Don't worry. I can hear those dirty thoughts percolating through your dirty little mind, picturing all sorts of dirty little scenes. Woody is the maintenance man for the apartment complex I live in. He considers every woman in there, regardless of age or looks, his little girl. And yes, he's done this for me before, and for several other girls that I know of."

"I'm sorry if I got the wrong idea, but if I remember correctly, and I couldn't possibly forget this, that kiss he gave you was a far cry from some chaste brotherly peck on the cheek."

"Oooo-boy-yeah! You got that right. When that man kisses you, you stay kissed for a week. He's incredible. Who knows. Maybe you'll meet him again. And if you're really, really good, he might give you a kiss too."

"No way! After seeing what he did to you, I'd be scared to let him near me! Besides, he might spoil me for life."

"You could be right. I've never found anyone else who could kiss like that."

"So, who were you going out with? Would I know the guy?"

"Look, Betty. Maybe we can talk about this another time, when its not so fresh and painful." Betty watched as several brief expressions ran across Stacy's face. She recognized only two. The first was a short flash of pain, and the other was ... embarrassment? Yes, because she was blushing a little, again.

Taking her eyes off Stacy, she looked around, noticing where they were. They'd already passed several of the fast-food joints Betty thought they might be going to, and seemed to be heading towards the university.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to a little restaurant I know. I really do need a break, and it's one of the most relaxing places in the city."

A few minutes later they arrived. It looked like one of those subdued, out-of-the way, expensive places. Annabella's. She'd never even heard of it before. When they walked in, it looked elegant, relaxed, and even more expensive. The maitre'd (yes, maitre'd, not hostess) was an older lady, good looking, well made up, wearing a modestly cut black dress.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and low-pitched. Her accent was as clear as it was unidentifiable. Betty couldn't even tell which continent the accent came from.

"Good evening. Ah, Anastasia. How nice to see you again. And who is this you brought with you?"

"This is Elizabeth. We've been studying a bit too much lately, so I thought we deserved a proper break."

"Studying?" This from the maitre'd.

"Yes, studying. Schoolwork. Really dry, boring, miserable stuff about people who've mostly been dead for decades. I thought this would be the perfect place for a change of scenery."

"Excellent choice. I believe I understand. Follow me please."

This was a nice restaurant. It was difficult to estimate how many tables or booths were there because of the strategic placement of potted plants and scattered trellis-works, with pillars and archways that sprang out from nowhere. Everything seemed geared towards making each table and booth as private as possible.

They were finally seated in a corner booth, blocked off from view by a large plant and by the corner of the restaurant's bar. The seat was an L shaped booth around a smallish table, leaving not much room for feet and legs. The table was covered with a real linen cloth. Subdued, soft music came from somewhere. As you'd expect in a place like this. They'd seen few other patrons on their way, and those were mostly women.

This was not the type of place Betty had been expecting to be treated to for 'a coffee or something'. Then again, she really didn't know anything about Stacy. The sheer elegance of the place left her in awe, neither her mother nor her father had ever treated her to a restaurant this nice. Dad occasionally took her to McDonald's for dinner, as if she were still a little girl, never thinking to take her to the kind of places he took Patsy.

"Anastasia? Elizabeth?" This from a rather puzzled-looking Betty.

"Look around. Soak in the atmosphere. Get the feel of this place. Stacy's and Betty's don't come here. They go to Denny's. This is where elegant ladies come for fine food and drink. A place where Elizabeth and Anastasia can relax and enjoy themselves. God, I feel better already."

"Okay, but, Anastasia?"

"What can I say. Back then my mother was a hopeless romantic."

They were interrupted by a waitress, dressed identically to the maitre'd, except that the dress and accessories were in blue. She sat several items on the table - linen napkins, linen place mats, a tall pink candle which she lit, and a bud vase containing a fresh pink rose.

"Hello Anastasia, Elizabeth. My name is Jacklyn and I'll be your host for this evening. Would you like drinks to start with?"

Betty was thirsty so she asked for a cola. A pained expression flashed over both Stacy's and their host's faces.

"Do you even have cola here?" asked Stacy.

"Of course. We use it for mix behind the bar."

"I think I'd better order for both of us. Are you hungry Elizabeth?"

Feeling a touch embarrassed by her unintentional faux-pas, Betty stared at the table. "Only a little. Maybe."

"It's all right, Elizabeth. I can see you've never been treated to a place like this before. This will be a new experience for you. Don't worry. My first time here was only a couple of years ago, and I was in such awe, the only memory I have of what we ate that night is that it was delicious."

"We'll skip the cola, and the meal, and go straight to dessert. I feel like committing a mortal sin tonight. We'll have two house coffees, a half-litre of your dry white, and two slices of that utter decadence you call raspberry cake. I think that should be enough to guarantee our fall from grace."

"Very well. I'll be back shortly."

"Stacy, what is this place?"

"Elizabeth, while we're here, I'm Anastasia. This is a first-class high-quality dining establishment. It has a very select and privileged list of patrons, mostly referrals from other members."

"So how come we're here? I'm not rich, and it didn't sound like you were either. I mean, this place almost screams expensive. How come they let us in if it's so exclusive?"

"Money and power won't get you in here. Neither will fine clothes. Notice you were let in wearing jeans? Nobody even blinked. Discretion, manners, a nice attitude, and the ability to enjoy a really good meal are all that you need. That and a good referral."

"But this place has got to be expensive. How can you afford it?"

"Elizabeth, I treat myself here about once a month, just to remind me of why I'm working so damned hard. I LIKE it here. It's usually desserts, like we're having, because I rarely have enough left over for a real dinner. Yes, the prices are high, but not outrageous. And the food is always wonderful."

Just then their host (her words, not mine) returned carrying a tray full of food. Two coffee's, a small carafe of wine, two wine glasses, and something that vaguely resembled chocolate cake. Stacy poured two glasses of wine while Betty studied this thing placed in front of her.

It did resemble chocolate cake, because the layers of cake were chocolate coloured, as was the icing, what little she could see of it. There were about ten layers of cake, with alternating chocolate and raspberry icing between them. The lowest layer was thick with raspberry filling. So much shaved chocolate had been dropped on top that most of it had fallen onto the plate. This was all covered with a thick raspberry glaze. Looking more carefully, Betty saw that a handful of fresh raspberries (fresh?!) had been sprinkled around the plate, and a gold leaf had been pressed into the back of her slice, on the icing. This resembled the chocolate cake she was used to like a full wedding gown resembled a simple summer dress.

"Am I supposed to eat this?"

"No. You're supposed to taste it, savor it, enjoy it, revel in it. You can't just eat it. And don't forget the wine and the coffee. They're necessary parts of the whole, if you want to have the full experience. Don't make the same mistake I did. Pay attention to your first meal here. Now, not another peep out of you until we're both done."

Betty relaxed and started to eat. It was delicious. She didn't know how Stacy got away with the wine, because they were both underage, but what the heck. It certainly did go well with the cake and the coffee.

After they were finished, Stacy poured them both a second glass of wine. Their host came by and cleared the table.

"How was your meal, ladies?"

"Divine, as usual. I don't know how much you pay the folks that make these temptations, but it's not enough. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Will this be your usual?"

"Yes. And yours as well."

"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

When Jacklyn left, Stacy slipped off her shoes, turned, and slid into the corner of the booth, draping her feet over the end. Betty didn't mind. It gave her more room for her legs under the table. They'd been playing foot shuffle all night, neither having quite enough room for legs and feet.

"C'mon Elizabeth. Kick your shoes off and get comfy." Betty did as she was told. Getting comfortable, though, was easier said than done. The bench was too hard on her feet if she tried to curl them up underneath her, and there wasn't quite enough room to turn and put them on the bench in front of her - they'd poke into Stacy.

Finally, giving up on getting comfortable, Betty was sitting up and stretching to put her shoes on. Stacy reached down, grabbed one of the young girl's feet, and pulled it up into her own lap.

"Let's have the other one up here too."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting comfortable. You've been squirming around like you had ants in your pants, trying to find somewhere to put your feet. Now they've got someplace to stay, so sit back and relax."

Betty put her other foot into Stacy's lap and leaned back. She was a bit startled by what had happened, especially when the other girl started to massage her feet. The easy-going atmosphere, the music and the wine helped her to accept what was happening and just enjoy the moment.

They finished their wine in silence. Stacy stared off into the distance, lost in thought. Betty stared at Stacy, studying her face, watching different expressions appear and vanish as her mind moved here and there.

Thinking about it for a minute, Betty realized that she felt more comfortable here than anywhere else she'd been, including home, in a long, long time. It was totally relaxing and peaceful, with no nagging thoughts, no guilt about not doing something else, nobody demanding anything of her, and no dad.

No dad? That last little trickle of thought made her realize that dad was indeed a major stress factor in her life. Even though they loved each other, her father was a constant reminder of the labor it took to survive, the loss of her mother, and Patsy. Mentally shaking herself to get rid of these thoughts, Betty let her mind go blank. She simply enjoyed this feelings of utter 'rightness', sitting there, doing nothing, getting her feet rubbed, letting the tensions and worries slide away and be replaced by feelings of warmth, security, and, well, caring.

She decided she liked the older girl. Maybe more than liked.

Eventually Stacy said it was time to go. Neither really wanted to, but both knew they had no choice. Her father would probably be wondering where they went. Slipping on shoes and heading out the door, they were in the car and heading home before a nagging thought in the back of Betty's mind finally stepped up.

"Stacy, is it my imagination, or did we just leave without paying the bill?"

"It's your imagination."

"No it's not. Jacklyn never brought us a bill, and we didn't stop at the front desk to pay."

"It's just your imagination. I paid the bill. You just didn't see it."

"Stacy, don't play games with me. I was with you the whole time, remember? I never saw a bill, and you never touched your purse. So what happened?"

"Honest Betty, I paid. Remember how I said the place had a rather exclusive list of patrons? Most regulars get the payment details done up ahead of time, usually with charge cards. This saves plenty of time and bother, especially if a couple wants to leave in a hurry. Jacklyn asked if I wanted to pay in my usual manner, and I said yes, and told her to add in her usual percentage for a tip. Pay more attention next time and you'll see."

"So, how much did this evenings debauchery cost you?"

"No, no, no, no. No telling. This was my treat. Don't spoil it by asking too many questions."

By the time they got back to Betty's place it was too late to get any more serious studying done. Her dad asked where they'd gone and what they'd had and she'd replied that they'd gone to a restaurant Stacy knew and had some coffee and chocolate cake. They'd spent more time talking about school than they meant to, and didn't notice the time until too late.

Betty didn't really know why she'd not told her dad all about it, especially since it was one of the nicer evenings she'd ever had, but guessed that it should be something private between her and Stacy. Dad wouldn't understand. He might even get mad.

Stacy was packed up to go in a few minutes. Betty, thinking about it, thought she should thank Stacy properly for what she'd done.

"Anastasia, thank you for sharing your special place with me. It was really nice."

Stacy looked at Betty, blinking a bit. She seemed unsure about something.

"No Elizabeth, thank you. This was one of the nicest evenings I've had in a long time. It was very ... pleasant ... having someone like you to share it with. I've got to run now. Goodnight."

Stacy bent over and gave Betty a kiss on the cheek. A soft, tender kiss, not something you'd get from your maiden aunt. Then she rushed out the door and was gone.

Betty lay awake a long time that night, wondering about what had happened. The only way she could describe it was that she'd been out on a date, and been given a good night kiss. Stacy had also hinted several times that the two of them would be back in that restaurant, together. Very strange. She didn't know whether she should be excited or afraid. It had been a wonderful evening, one that she hoped to repeat, but it was difficult to understand Stacy. Which one was the real her?

Her cheek tingled whenever she thought about that kiss.

<<present>>

"Well, Betty, I know that you and Stacy have been lovers for quite some time now, (She knew? How? I didn't think she had a clue!) and that you haven't seen each other since that disagreement last week. (What!?) What I wanted to know is how you feel about Stacy."

"Joyce, how did you know about me and Stacy, and why are you asking me about this now?"

"How did I know about you and Stacy? Well, I may be getting old, but I'm neither senile nor blind, and I've seen the type of relationship you two have many times before. I made a shrewd guess. As for why now? Since that row you three had last week you've been miserable. It's fairly easy to tell for someone who's known you as long as I have."

"Now, you still haven't answered my question about how you feel about Stacy."

Betty looked hard at Joyce for a few seconds before something let go inside. She started crying, sobbing about how she loved Stacy, how she was the most important thing in her life, how she didn't know if she'd ever see Stacy again and how she hated her father for what he'd done to her and to Stacy and to her mother.

Joyce never interrupted, just making soothing noises, giving Betty the occasional tissue to sop up the tears, waiting for her to wind down.

"There, there, dear. Feeling better now? I always felt better after a good cry when I was your age, especially when the whole world was against me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break down like this. I think I'd better go home now."

"Don't be silly. We haven't finished our chat yet. There's lots more to talk about, but most of it will wait for another day. Right now, we're talking about you and Stacy. Is there any good reason why you haven't seen her since last week?"

Betty told her about the secret phone calls and the trip to the apartment.

"Okay, so you've tried to see her and talk with her, but haven't had any luck. That's what I was wondering about. I may be able to help."

<<past>>

It was the longest five days Betty had ever endured. From Thursday night, when they had their 'date', she had to wait until Tuesday for their next tutoring session. Unsure of whether she was looking forward to it or dreading it made things worse. She knew she was attracted to Stacy, but was very much afraid of those feelings. Betty knew what her father would be like if he even suspected. Also feeding her fear was the question of whether Stacy had any of those same feelings for her, or if her imagination had simply been working overtime.

She'd never had these feelings before for anyone, boy or girl. The thought that Stacy might be a lesbian or something like that didn't bother her. Back when her mother was still around, they'd talked frequently about this sort of thing because a number of Mom's friends were bi or lesbian, and it had looked strange to the ten-year-old to see two women necking. Mom had even admitted having a couple of lady lovers before meeting up with dad.

Tuesday, when Stacy finally arrived, was a big letdown. All they did was talk about English, homework, and school. She was quizzed several times on the assignments she'd been given, and chewed out for the mistakes she'd made, but that was it.

Occasionally, Stacy would get lost in thought, or looked like she was going to say one thing then changed her mind and said something else. She never said one word about what had happened. There wasn't even the fire and brimstone feeling, the hard-edged push that had been there before. As miserable as that had been, Betty missed it. It was as though Stacy didn't feel anything anymore. When the evening was over, Stacy left with nothing more than a perfunctory goodnight.

Later that night, in bed, waiting for sleep to come, Betty was running the evening through in her mind, wanting to find something, but not sure what she was looking for. She knew she should feel relieved that nothing else happened, but couldn't figure out why her eyes wouldn't stop leaking. Maybe it had something to do with that empty feeling in her chest.

Her cheek tingled, somehow still echoing the feel of those tender lips on her skin.

<<present>>

"Help? How?"

"Well, actually, Stacy and I had a long chat today over lunch. Never mind how I managed that because I won't tell you right now. I'm also not going to bore you with the details of what we talked about. Let's just say that she was very unsure about how you felt about her, and wanted some time for each of you to think things over. I've arranged for the two of you to meet later tonight, with me as a chaperone. That is, if you would like to see Stacy again."

"Of course I want to see her! When? How did you do this?"

"Okay then, it's settled. As far as your father is concerned, you and I will be going out to dinner just to cheer you up. He knows I don't like him, so he won't be surprised at not being invited. You'll just have to do a little play acting to keep him from being suspicious. Come on over at six, and we'll head out."

"Now then, you'd better scoot because your father's probably home by now wondering where you are. You also need to change and have a wash-up. See you in a while."

When Betty walked out of Joyce's place, she saw the living room curtains at her own house move. 'Oh great,' she thought, 'now dad's spying on me.'

When she walked into her house, she worked hard to keep her excitement down, leaving just enough there to make it sound like she was looking forward to going out to dinner with Joyce.

"Hello short stuff. Where did you head off to after school?"

"The usual. Basketball practice. Joyce asked me over for a cup of tea. We sat and talked for a while about school and stuff. She's invited me out for dinner tonight, said she'd noticed me moping about just a bit too much and thought that some good food might help cheer me up."

Her dad looked at her rather suspiciously. He had seen her come back from Joyce's, and it wasn't all that unusual for them to go out to dinner together. Joyce preferred to eat out whenever possible, dragging along anybody she could get to go with her. He still didn't trust Joyce, she'd been too close a friend to his ex-wife, and never hid the fact that she disliked him.

"Okay, you can go. Just remember, curfew at eleven, it's a school night. I guess I'll just have to fix my own dinner." He usually did the cooking anyway, so this was no great sacrifice.

"Thanks dad. I need to get washed up and changed. We're supposed to be going at six." Betty was relieved that he hadn't created a fuss. She saw that he was suspicious but wasn't going to start anything right now.

Six o'clock rolled around. Joyce drove betty almost half-way across town, taking the scenic route and doubling back on herself several times. Betty ignored most of this because she was rehearsing what she was going to say when she saw Stacy. Curiosity finally getting the better of her, she had to ask.

"Joyce, where the heck are we going? It's almost like you're trying to get us lost or something."

"No dear, I'm not trying to get us lost. I'm just making certain this is a private dinner, with no uninvited guests. It took me a while, but I managed to 'shake him off' as they say."

"Shake him off? Shake who off? Off what?"

"Well, you're father's been tailing us ever since we left my place, just like in the movies. I don't think he trusts me."

"What! My father, following us? Are you sure?"

"Positive. I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want you glancing back and making him even more suspicious. This way it looks like I lost him in traffic. Lord almighty, this is fun! We're going to be a few minutes late to the restaurant but I think we should be okay. Having your father show up would have been a real problem."

The rest of the trip was made in silence. Betty was lost in thought, shocked by what her father was capable of doing.

<<past>>

The next several tutoring sessions followed the same pattern, with nothing being discussed except english. Betty was beginning to think that special night had been nothing but a dream, all in her imagination. Then, about a month later, something else happened.

It was during a Thursday session again, late, just when they were packing things up for the night.

"Betty, how would you like to go out with me on a date Saturday night. These two guys invited me to dinner and we need another woman to make it a foursome." She was sitting in the chair, leaning back, seemingly relaxed, staring into empty space.

All the buried thoughts and emotions came pouring back. Betty sat heavily in her chair, too stunned to respond. She wanted to look into Stacy's eyes to see what she was thinking, maybe find what she hoped was in there, but Stacy wouldn't meet her gaze. The young girl's answer was unexpected, both to herself and to Stacy.

"Stacy, I thought you didn't like me anymore."

After a short pause, Stacy smiled.

"Whoever said such a nasty thing was both a fool and a liar."

Betty smiled too, her mind made up in an instant.

"Anastasia, I'd love to go out with you on Saturday, along with whoever else you're bringing. But if you go on treating me like you have for the last month, I'll hate you forever."

Stacy smiled again. "I think I get the picture."

Betty was tempted to lean over and give Stacy a kiss on the cheek. She resisted, not sure how the other girl would respond at this time. "Good. Now get out of here. I'm sure you've got things you need to do. Call me tomorrow with the details."

Not wanting Stacy to see her eyes getting misty, Betty started cleaning up her desk, putting things away and tidying up. She heard Stacy start to speak a couple of times, but then stop without saying a word. Soon she was alone again. Her tutor was gone.

There were new feelings in the pit of her stomach, those of excitement and trepidation. Excitement because she'd be going out with Stacy again, and that same nervousness tinged with fear about what she might be getting into. Is this what she wanted? Is this how her mother got started, years ago? The thought pumped even more adrenaline into her system.

Her cheek tingled, echoing that kiss, her memory of it still fresh after all this time.

<<present>>

The restaurant was a decent one, italian, with a rather cozy interior, dim, but bright enough not to interfere with eating. Joyce led stacy into a back corner after talking with the matre'd, stopping at a semi-private booth which was shielded from the rest of the restaurant by a number of large plants.

In the far side of the booth was Stacy, looking wonderful in a black satin dress, blonde hair done up in a cascade which framed her perfect face, deep red lips, and gorgeous blue eyes. She looked delicious.

Stacy, looking back, saw Betty walking toward her, feeling her emotions stirring and building up inside her. She was in love with Betty, and had been for a long time. It was just that she'd never been able to admit it to herself until this past week. Moving over, she motioned Betty to come and sit beside her, not really knowing what to expect, but glad Betty had at least decided to show up.

Betty slid into the booth beside Stacy and turned to look at her. All those carefully rehearsed words evaporated as she looked into her lover's eyes. Stacy held out her arms for a hug, and Betty fell into that warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around Stacy and rested her head on the girl's shoulder. There was no stopping it - she began to cry, letting go of all the fear and loneliness that had built up over the past week. The older girl soon followed, now knowing that she had indeed been sorely missed. It was something they both needed, and the sight of these two rediscovering each other touched Joyce deeply.

After they'd sobbed for a bit, Betty pulled back.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me anymore."

"Absolute nonsense. Who ever would say such a thing is both a fool and a liar." That brought a smile to both their faces. "Of course I did. I just needed some time alone, away from everyone, to think about what had happened. Besides, I was scared to call you after that horrible scene with your father. I thought you'd hate me after that."

"Never. I couldn't hate you, ever. You're the most wonderful person in the world."

"Nope. Just the second most wonderful. You're the best, my Little Blossom."

"My my my. You two sound like newlyweds after your first tiff. Really, you're starting to embarrass me!" Joyce had a big smile on her face, obviously not the least embarrassed by the two of them. "Here, you both need tissues, you've managed to mess each other up pretty good."

When they were reaching for the tissues, both noticed that dinner had arrived. Neither remembered ordering anything.

"I took the liberty of ordering for all of us since you two had your minds elsewhere. Besides, I'm hungry."

"Joyce, " Stacy said, looking into Joyce's eyes, "I don't know how to thank you. I doubt whether I would ever have had the courage to contact Betty again on my own, not with her father there."

"Piffle. Think nothing of it. When a person gets to be my age, there aren't too many joys left in life. Seeing you two lovebirds together like this is wonderful, and makes any efforts I made seem like nothing. Now if you two will excuse me for a minute, I think I'll go powder my nose."

Joyce got up and left, leaving the two of them alone for a few minutes.

"Stacy, how do you feel about me? Honestly?"

"Well, Little Blossom, it took me a while, but I finally figured out that I love you."

Betty turned her head into Stacy's shoulder and started crying again, this time with joy. "Oh god, Stace, I love you too!"

A few minutes later, Joyce came back. "I thought you two were already finished with that mushy stuff. Here, have some more tissues. Lucky I brought plenty with me."

It wasn't long before the two of them straightened up and started eating.

"Now, I know you two haven't thought about this yet, but what are you going to do after tonight? Having the odd secret dinner together probably isn't going to be enough, is it? And I doubt whether Jonathan could handle having Stacy around or having you pop over to Stacy's all the time. So, both of you need to make some hard choices. If you want to be together, you're going to have to do it properly, regardless of what other people think."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Stacy knows what I mean, and she doesn't look like she's too upset at the thought. Well, Stacy?"

<<End of chapter 2>>

Next chapter <<present>> A pending decision, more revelations, confrontation and
a slap in the face. <<past>> Dinner and a show, bad coffee, a long cold summer

Author's note:

Annabella's Restaurant is partly based on a real establishment I've been to a few times. It shouldn't hurt your enjoyment of the story to know that it's a members-only restaurant, catering to ladies that don't usually fit the mainstream of society.

public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email "To Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Path: bull.hkstar.net!news1.hk.linkage.net!hk.linkage.net!hpg30a.csc.cuhk.hk!news.cuhk.edu.hk!news.glink.net.hk!uunet!in3.uu.net!iglou!stbush From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (3/8) X-Sender: stbush@iglou X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.93.960823075834.3329D-100000@iglou> Sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator) Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Fri, 23 Aug 1996 12:00:08 GMT Lines: 807

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f]

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 3 of 8

Disclamer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>> A pending decision, more revelations <<past>> Dinner and a show, bad coffee

<<past>>

Everything was set for Saturday. The one regret Betty had was that she was forced to cancel another date, something she'd set up with a guy from her school. After she promised to make it up to him another time, he'd agreed. Not that he had much choice.

Robert, her date, was to pick her up at 5:30 before heading for the restaurant. After an early dinner, they'd go to a show. Later they'd play it by ear. Stacy was a little short on details, like what her date was like, where they were going, and what movie they'd be seeing. Betty really didn't care much about those details either. She just wanted to go out with Stacy again. Maybe this time she'd find out what was going on inside the other girl's head. That's what was important. As for the guys, if they were anything like the ones she knew, they could easily be ignored.

Right on time, there was a knock on the door. Jonathan answered it.

"Hello, Mr. Brust? I'm Robert. Betty's date for tonight. Is she here?"

"Hi Robert. Come on in. Betty said she'd be ready in a few minutes. Have a seat."

Jonathan liked the looks of this guy. Big, maybe six-one, six-two, strong, well-developed muscles, a fair bit over 200 pounds, but with a gentle face. Good looking, especially wearing the suit and tie. It fit well, obviously tailored. He was happy that his daughter was dating nice guys.

After a few minutes of conversation (pumping for info), it turns out the guy is seventeen, in the same school as Stacy, gets good grades, and is into football rugby and weight-lifting. His name is Robert, not Rob, or Bob, as Jonathan mistakenly called him. He surprised Jonathan by also admitting to liking the theatre, especially musicals, and about learning to play the flute. It didn't seem to fit the jock image Jonathan had formed.

Betty came out into the living room. Both of the men stared.

She'd tried to make everything perfect for tonight. Her hair was brushed and styled and makeup put on just so. She was wearing a calf-length pale silver-grey dress which was very sleek and form-fitting, along with a matching vest/wrap, shoes, and purse. In the daylight it didn't really go with her hair and skin, but later, in the evening, it would be spectacular. Judging by the looks on those two guys faces, it was pretty good right now.

Jonathan recovered first since he was generally used to seeing his daughter - but not used to seeing her look this good.

"My don't you look fabulous today."

"Thanks dad." She did a pirouette, flaring out the hem of her dress, showing off a bit of her slim legs. The heels she had on gave her calves a bit more shape and dimension which made them even more beautiful.

Robert recovered his breath. "Yes Betty. You look stunning." Suddenly he grinned. "Elizabeth, you are beautiful. Stacy could never have prepared me for this moment. Mere words could not do you justice. You are a vision, sent from heaven. Come, before my madness ends, your carriage awaits, and beyond that, dinner and the theater."

During this speech, he'd gone over, taken Betty's hand, and led her out the door. This was something new to both her and her father, and neither were prepared for it.

"Farewell. Your daughter's safe return will always be foremost in my mind."

He closed the door, leaving Jonathan alone and speechless in his house. Robert was grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi Betty. I'm Robert, your date for tonight."

He led her down to his car. 'At least', she said to herself, 'it's a nice normal car.' If this was any indication, it would be an interesting evening.

She had no idea where Robert had learned his manners from, but as she found out, he was a perfect gentleman all night. This was a far cry from the normal guys she'd dated.

"Betty, are you all right? You haven't said anything since we left your place."

"Oh. Sorry Robert. You sort of overwhelmed me a little." Actually, she was wondering where Stacy found this guy. It had to be a setup because guys like this don't go on blind dates, no matter how beautiful the girl is supposed to be. What the hell was she up to?

"That's all right. I guess I laid it on a bit thick back there. I wanted to shock your father. He'd pegged me as Mr. Dumb Jock as soon as he saw me at the door. I was also very impressed when I saw you. You are truly a beautiful young lady. You're going to make some person very happy one day."

"Flatterer." Betty tried not to take him seriously, but she was impressed by his earnestness and charm. They chatted together all the way to the restaurant.

It wasn't crowded yet, still being early, but it was getting busy. They spotted Stacy in a booth near the entrance. Betty guessed that the guy sitting beside her was Jordan, the other half of this double date. Their heads were together, him talking and her laughing.

He looked tall. Sitting beside Stacy, he was two or three inches taller than her 5'11", so he was probably around 6'2" or 6'3". He was long and lean, slim, but with hard muscles, black hair, and dark brown eyes. Definitely good looking.

She was outfitted in a long blue dress, moderate heels, matching purse, and a very pretty sapphire necklace. The dress was modest in design, covering her up almost completely from her shoulders to below her knees. It was form-fitting enough to show off her graceful figure and included a belt to emphasize her slim waist.

When they came up, Jordan stood to greet Betty. (Whoops, Betty only came up to the middle of his chest. Better make that 6'6" or more.) He was also wearing a suit and tie and it looked great on him. It was obvious, even through the clothes, that he had a great body. When the introductions were over, they all sat, Jordan beside Stacy and Robert beside Betty.

Jordan was also a very charming, genuinely nice person. He was nineteen, going to college, and enrolled in an arts program. He was heavily involved in theater and dance, played violin, banjo, flute and piano (all equally badly according to him) and worked out regularly with Robert in the weight room and on the track.

As soon as she thought it polite, she excused herself to the ladies room and dragged Stacy with her.

"Stacy! I'm mad at you! What the hell are you trying to do to me? Here I am, all set to spend an evening with you and a couple of dumb guys, and you throw these ringers in here. What gives?"

Stacy looked very serious for a moment. "You meant what you said, then, that you wanted to go out with me. It wasn't a bad joke."

Now Betty was getting upset and confused. "Yes I did mean it. What did you think, that I was monkeying around or something? Because if I've made a total fool of myself, I should go home now."

"I don't think you need to do that. C'mere and give me a hug, right now." The two girls embraced each other, neither saying anything. It was something Betty hadn't expected, not this soon. Holding the other girl in her arms did feel really nice. She was soft and warm, and Betty's head fit so nicely on the taller girl's shoulder, just below her jaw.

There was also warmth and emotion being returned in the blonde's tight hold. Betty could feel this in those arms wrapped around her, and in the rapid heartbeat and breathing of the other girl. It was the way one arm was holding her close by the waist, the other arm higher, near the shoulder, and the way her head dipped down and into Betty's hair that made her feel this was a lover's embrace, not a friends. She returned in kind, pulling Stacy closer and gently moving her head against the taller girl's neck and shoulder, letting her know that this hug was being enjoyed. Unexpected it might have been, but it was most pleasant, and told Betty everything she wanted to know.

Breaking apart, Stacy spoke first.

"You're partly right, and I apologize. Those two guys are ringers. I had to know if you felt anything for me. Either one of those guys could charm the cuckoo out of his clock, and if you were more interested in them than in me, I'd know your true feelings. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. For the longest time, I didn't know if I was really attracted to you or not. There was too much fear in there. Why did you wait so long before saying anything?"

"Betty, I think we should talk about this later, in private. We've got two men out there waiting for their dates."

"Right. You found them, you tell them that we're not interested. This was your idea."

"Not a chance. I'm looking forward to dinner and a movie. I don't get out much, and I'm gonna make the best of it. Besides, I told you they were ringers. They're safe. Just enjoy the evening."

"What do you mean they're safe? They've got wives or girlfriends or something? That doesn't stop men from trying, you know that."

"I'd better tell you then. Remember, this is a secret just between you, me, and them. You promise to keep it that way? All right. No, they're not married, and they don't have girlfriends. They're both gay."

"No! You can't be serious! I mean, those are two of the nicest guys I've ever met!"

"Believe it. They've been serious with each other for years. I said they were safe."

"Oh god. What a loss to the female population. Two great guys, just poof, gone. How come it's all the good ones that get snatched up first?"

That broke them both up, giggling and laughing.

"Now Betty, be serious for a minute. Those two guys are taking a real chance with us. They don't want to be found out. Both of them date regularly just to put on a good show. They're too nice to be treated badly. You will keep their secret, won't you."

"Yes Stacy, I will. They are nice guys."

When they finally made it back to the table, Betty, feeling very daring, gave Robert a peck on the cheek.

"Sorry we were gone so long. Did you miss me?"

Robert blushed, and Jordan looked like he might be a touch upset. At least, he did until Stacy gave him a smooch and started nibbling on his ear. Betty winked at him and he smiled.

"So, what movie are we going to see?" Stacy asked, looking around the table.

Robert and Jordan looked at each other, then looked at Stacy. At almost the same time they said "Movie?"

Using her most ferocious scowl, Stacy glared at Jordan. "Don't you dare. You promised me we'd be going to a movie. I've been looking forward to this all week!"

The two guys looked at each other again. Robert grinned and, using a very polite, almost victorian english tone of voice, spoke. "Mr. Jordan, did you promise Mademoiselle Stacy that this evening's entertainment would be highlighted by a moving picture?"

Jordan grinned back, looking at Robert, using the same sort of voice. "I most certainly did not, Mr. Robert. I haven't the foggiest idea where she could have gotten such a fanciful notion. I certainly had no intention of going to a moving picture this evening. You may inform her of that fact."

By this time, Robert, Jordan, and Betty were all grinning from ear to ear. Stacy wasn't, because she'd been looking forward to one of her few evenings out. There was something going on though, these two were having just a bit too much fun. She just didn't know what.

Betty was smiling because she thought she knew what this was about, and was getting very excited about it. Robert's slip of the tongue back at her place had given her the clue she needed.

"Mademoiselle Stacy, Mr. Jordan informs me that he did not, in fact, offer to take you to a moving picture. Since he is a man of honor, I believe him. Now then, in order to clear up any misunderstandings, could you please tell me what his exact words were when he invited you out for the evening?"

There was definitely something going on, but she just couldn't figure it out. It looked like even Betty was in on the joke.

"He said, and I quote, 'Stacy, how about double-dating next Saturday. You, me, Robert, and one of your lady friends. I feel like going out. Nothing real fancy, just dinner and a movie.' Now you tell me where that lets Mr. Not-so-nice here off the hook."

"Mr. Jordan. I ask you again. Did you invite Mademoiselle Stacy out to dinner and a moving picture this evening? The lady informs me that you did in fact promise her this, and has quoted you verbatim as proof."

"No, Mr. Robert, I did not. However, I could not help but overhear your conversation with the lady, and I do believe that she misremembers our conversation. A very slight flaw, but understandable.

"All right you two, cut the nonsense. You've all had your laugh. Now how about letting me in on your little secret. Even Betty over there is ready to split a gut."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, can't a guy have a little fun anymore? I mean, in this day and age, a little joking gets a guy into a lot of trouble. What's the world coming to, anyway? Is there no more mirth and merr..." Stacy cut him off.

"SPILL IT, JACK, OR YOU'RE IN DEEP SHIT!" Stacy was whispering, but several people at nearby tables turned to look.

"Right. One. We're going to a show. Two. We're not going to a movie. Betty, you tell her."

"Stacy, I think they're taking us to a real show. A real one!"

"If you two are funnin' us girls, you'll be in it deep, with no shovel."

"Nope. No funnin'. Four tickets to go see Phantom of the Opera. Center aisle, twelve rows back. Absolutely perfect."

"You miserable bastard! Making me go through all that, just so you could pull off a stunt like this! I oughtta knock your block off!"

Instead, she leaned over and gave Jordan a kiss on the cheek.

"Now you've really got me excited! When do we go?"

"First dinner, then show. It starts at eight, so we have plenty of time."

The rest of the evening was just as much fun. The guys were delightful, the girls excited and happy, and the show was spectacular, as expected. This was the first stage show Betty had ever been to, and it was fantastic.

By the time the show was over, it was too late for Stacy and Betty to get together for a talk, so it would have to wait for later.

When Robert dropped off Betty, he was again a gentleman. He walked her to her door and gave her a really nice goodnight kiss. They stood there for a while, his arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, almost kissing, but instead talking.

"Robert, you'd better be careful. Keep this up, and some girl's gonna fall in love with you."

"Well, Betty, I guess it would hafta be unrequited love, 'cause I'm already taken."

"<sigh> I guess I am too. 'Course, a few kisses now and then never hurt nobody, right?"

"So true. As someone once said, a kiss is just a kiss."

"Y'know, I almost wish I'd met you before, well, you two."

"No, you don't. Before I met Jordan, I was your prototypical ignoramus jock, dumb as a fencepost, blatantly stupid and unfeeling. He's the one that made me realize there was much more to life than pounding some other dumb jock into the dirt out on the field. Now don't get me wrong, I still like doing that, but it's not the only thing in my life anymore.."

"You're sure not the same as any of those dumb jocks I've dated. Well, I'd better go in now. My dad's given up on peeking through the curtain. Now he's standing there watching. I think he's really curious. This is the first time I've ever stood out here talking with my date after a goodnight kiss."

"Good. I hope you leave him curious, especially after you tell him where you went."

After another quick kiss and, well, just for show, yet another, they said goodnight. Betty went inside to face her father.

He was sitting in his chair with his book, apparently reading. Betty wondered how he managed to get from the window to his chair so fast.

"Oh, hi. You're home, and right on time, too. How was your date?"

"He was really nice. Robert and Jordan are both wonderful guys."

"So, what did you have for dinner, and what movie did you see? I want to know all the gory details."

"Dinner? Oh, right. Dinner. Come to think of it, I don't remember what I had."

"Betty, what's going on? You did go out for dinner, didn't you?"

"Yes dad. We did go out to dinner. It's just that Jordan told us what show we were going to see before we ordered. I guess I was so excited I never paid any attention to that minor detail."

"What possible movie could get you that excited?"

"That's just it dad! It wasn't a movie! He took me to a real show! It was fantastic! We saw Phantom of the Opera! I've never seen anything like it! He's promised me he'll take me to another show some day soon too!"

They sat there together, talking about the show and her date for more than an hour before Jonathan finally begged off, claiming he needed at least a couple hours sleep before morning.

<<present>>

"Okay. Betty, I think what Joyce is saying is that if we want to keep seeing each other, and I certainly do, then you're going to have to move out of your father's house. There's no way that I could come around there without him knowing about it, and he terrifies me. I'm not sure I know where Joyce has in mind for you to go, but I think that's the only way we can have any time together."

"Well Stacy, you're mostly right, and I do know of one place where she'd be welcome, even if neither of you have thought of it yet. You should move in together, of course."

Both looked at Joyce, a little stunned. Then the corners of Stacy's mouth started to curl upward as she ran the idea around in her mind.

"No, I hadn't thought of that."

"Joyce, you think I should move out? That would break my father's heart. He does love me, I know, despite his yelling and arguing. He really does. I don't know if I could do this to him."

"Betty, it's time for some hard facts. You don't know too much about why your mother left, do you? You were only twelve at the time, and missed much of what happened around you."

"I know that she left dad to move in with another woman, in what dad calls 'an obscene lesbian affair'. He's hated her ever since, blaming her for the breakup. It's part of why I'm almost ashamed of what Stacy and I are doing. It hurts him so much."

"That's part of it, but certainly not the whole story. Now to fill you in on the parts your father never told you. Like Patsy."

"I know she had something to do with it, but dad never talks about what went on between the two of them before the breakup."

"Well, your father was having an affair with Patsy for almost two years before your mother found out. After all the arguments and recriminations were over with, it ended up a stalemate. Jonathan told your mother that he loved her, and only her, but she couldn't give him everything he needed. Patsy made up for the things he was missing in his life, and he couldn't give her up. So Marion would just have to understand. He didn't see anything wrong with what he was doing, and she should be a better wife."

"Diana, that's the person your mom moved in with, by the way, had been your mother's friend for years. We all knew Diana was bi-sexual, but since she never really came onto any of us, it was okay. That's who your mother turned to for help and comfort. Diana was not a person to put up with the B.S. your father was spewing, so she loudly and publicly dressed him down on several occasions. Your mother wouldn't leave Jonathan though, because she did love him, and you, and didn't want to break up the family. That changed very suddenly."

"Jonathan saw how Marion had been going over to Diana's more and more frequently. He accused her of having a lesbian love affair on the side and trying to ruin all of their reputations. Her answer was 'So what if I am? You've got your mistress, what's the problem?' That's when he became unglued, yelling and shouting at her, calling her a whore and a bitch and other things I won't repeat. And that's when he hit her. He apologized immediately, of course, saying he was sorry over and over again, that he didn't mean to do anything like that and he'd never do it again."

"Your mother was packed up and gone the next day, before Jonathan got home from work. She did move in with Diana. They had not been lovers before, but certainly were afterwards. It was months before she could bring herself to talk to me about what happened. That's when she made me promise to keep an eye out for you, to make sure you didn't end up like she did."

Betty sat quietly for a long time, picking at her dinner, thinking about what Joyce had told her, about what her dad had said, and the way he was acting. She had a hard time believing that he had actually hit her mother. The part about Patsy she had no trouble believing.

"I'm going to have to think about this for a while. Besides, I'm not sure I could manage living away from home. I'd need a job, but I want to finish school and go to college. Without dad's support, I don't think I could do it."

"You don't need to worry about that. Your mother would be more than happy to help out in any way she can, financially or otherwise. She does still love you, you know."

"Joyce, I haven't seen or spoken to my mother since she left, five years ago. I doubt she even remembers I'm alive."

"Well, that's more of your father's handiwork. When your mother left, he forbade her from ever coming near him or his daughter again, saying she'd 'pervert your impressionable young mind' or some such nonsense. He threatened her with some nasty consequences if he ever found out that she'd spoken to you."

"I get the impression you've been in contact with Betty's mother recently." Stacy was looking at Joyce, still with a bit of a smile, wondering what other secret intrigues she had hidden in her grey head.

"Well, yes, this morning actually."

<<past>>

Stacy called the next morning, inviting Betty out for coffee, saying that they had to have a talk. That afternoon Betty found herself in a small out of the way cafe not too far from home. The place was almost deserted, with only one other patron and the waiter keeping the establishment from feeling like a morgue.

This wasn't going to be fun. Stacy looked too serious, and had ignored all attempts at conversation during the drive here. She didn't know what to expect, so she waited for the older girl to start.

"Betty, this may get difficult, especially for you. Please be patient, and think before you say anything. I don't want any harsh words to ruin what... " She trailed off for a moment. "What do you think our relationship is, yours and mine, right now? Please be honest, for both our sakes."

Feeling confused and a touch scared at how this started, Betty sipped on her coffee. She took a few minutes to try and figure out how to respond to this question.

"I'm not sure how to answer you. I've never fallen for another girl before, so I have nothing to compare to. If you were a guy, I'd hope we'd be going steady soon. It's not a crush, I've had those before, and this is different. I don't know how to describe it. That one night you took me out, it was one of the most pleasant evenings I've ever had. It wasn't just the restaurant or the food or the wine. It took me a long time to realize that I enjoyed that night because I was with you, and you were being completely yourself."

"God, this is gonna be hard. Betty, I like you, and I'm attracted to you. Nothing will change that. I enjoy your company because you are a very nice person. I just can't become serious with you, not now. When we went out that night, remember I said I'd broken up with my lover some months earlier? Well, she came back that weekend and we patched up our differences. We've been together ever since."

"Is that why you were so cold to me again? Because you had your lover back? So why did you invite me out last night?"

"Betty, it's all because you are so hard to read! You don't have the face or the body language to tell me how you feel! I needed a safe way to find out if you were attracted to me or not. There was no way for me to know that you'd fallen for me after one night. Especially since a month had gone by without you saying or doing anything to encourage me."

"You didn't answer my question. If you're going steady with someone, why did you invite me out on a date?"

"I invited you because I have feelings for you, and I thought you might have some for me. It was a very difficult thing for me to do. My lover satisfies my deeper physical needs, but isn't much emotionally. And there's no way I could take her on a date like last night. I was hoping that we could become close friends. I need someone to talk to, to share time with, where I can relax and just be me. That's what it was like with you when we went to Annabella's. I've missed that feeling ever since."

"But I tho..." Betty paused for a minute.

"It looks like I have made a fool of myself. I read more into those two nights than I should have. I am an inexperienced young girl, blundering around in things I don't understand."

"Don't say that! You are not a fool. I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, the way I've acted."

"No Stacy. You've described what you want. You want the same thing my father wanted. You want to keep your lover, and you want to keep a mistress on the side, to satisfy those needs your lover can't."

"It's not like that at all!"

"No? Well, physically or emotionally, I would only be a mistress. I can't be one. I never would have thought you'd be like my father."

"Don't think of it like that! It's not! I want you to be my friend!"

"Is that the polite word for it in your circles? Friend? No, Stacy. I can't be just your friend. I don't know much, but I do know my own feelings now. It wouldn't work."

"Please Betty, don't say that. Why are you making this so hard on me? I care too much for you for this to happen."

"You really don't understand, do you? It's not just your feelings. It's mine too. And you've just stepped all over mine. I can't, I won't, share. Anyway, I've had enough coffee for a long time. I'll walk home from here. Goodby Stacy."

"No, Betty, please. Not like this. Please!"

Betty got up and left, ignoring Stacy's final words. Her eyes were blurring, her throat tight and painful. The walk home was difficult as she was determined not to cry in public. The humiliation, knowing what she'd unwittingly walked into, burned deep, almost as deep as her shame, realizing she was almost willing to go along with what Stacy wanted. Knowing the suffering caused by such a triangle, having seen it in her father, mother, and Patsy, made that impossible.

The only break she got that day was when she got home - dad was out. Safely in her bedroom, she could think again. Was Stacy really like her father? She had a lover. He'd had a wife. She needed more than her lover could give. He'd wanted more than his wife could give. She wanted Betty to fill those needs. He'd gotten Patsy to fulfill his. 'It matches, I guess.'

Betty knew that she could never put herself in Patsy's position, being the cause, however indirectly, of the breakup of a relationship. Even if the relationship was flawed.

Could she even imagine sharing her lover, whether Stacy, or anyone, with somebody else? No ... never. Besides, came a lonely whisper in the back of her mind, what if she were Stacy's lover. Would Stacy take a mistress on her?

Somewhere in with those thoughts came a resolution never to fall into a trap like this again.

It was obvious now that Stacy was a mistake, something to be learned from, something to move on from. There was no way she could become Stacy's lover, not after finding out what the older girl was looking for.

Having made her decisions, it was time to get on with the rest of her life. There were only two things left to deal with.

There was an empty feeling in her chest.

Her cheek still tingled.

<<present>>

"Come on Joyce, how could you do this to me! You've been talking with my mother and never told me about it?"

"Betty, I've talked with your mother at least once a week ever since she left. We were close friends, and she was depending on me to look after her daughter. I made a promise to keep it a secret until I felt the time was right for you to know. She does still love you and wants you to be happy. Your mother has also promised to help out in any way she can."

"This has been a very stressful day for you both, I'm sure. I think we should get going. You two are going to have to think about what's been said here. Betty, you've probably got the hardest decision to make, so I think you should spend some time on it, a few days or possibly even weeks. I think Stacy will be answering her phone from now on though."

"Yeah. Elizabeth, no matter what happens or what you decide, just remember that I will still love you." Stacy sealed that statement with a kiss.

Joyce had driven almost all the way home before Betty spoke.

"Joyce, do you think I could speak with my mother?"

"I'm sure she'd be very happy to talk with you. Come over after school tomorrow or monday, and I'll see what I can arrange."

The rest of the drive was quiet. When Betty walked in, her dad was sitting up watching tv. After a few questions about dinner and the restaurant, Betty excused herself, claiming she had homework. What she wanted to do was think about everything that had happened today.

Could she move out on her father? It would hurt him deeply, that she was sure of. Could she go on with the way things were, only seeing Stacy at odd times, in secret, away from dad? That hadn't been working at all. They'd slowly moved apart, almost to the point of losing each other. Besides, they'd be risking another confrontation. With the strange things her dad was doing lately, she didn't know what to expect from him anymore. If she moved out, she'd need a place to stay, probably with Stacy, and she'd need money, more than she was getting from her part-time job. There were too many things that cost, and expecting Stacy to support her was just too much. She did want to finish high school and go to college. Joyce's promises of help from mom were just a little too nebulous to really depend on. Maybe if she could talk to her mother, like they used to, it wouldn't be so bad. Did her dad really make it so mom and her were completely separated? That was a really scary thought. If he could do that, he could do almost anything.

'Christ! Why can't dad just accept the fact that Stacy and I love each other. It would make my life so much easier!'

School the next day was a little better. At least she could concentrate on what the teachers were talking about. A couple of her friends commented that she looked happier too, more like her usual self. She did feel a lot better, knowing that Stacy loved her.

There was a surprise waiting for her when she got home. Patsy, her dad's girlfriend, was there packing up his things for a trip.

"Lizzy! How nice to see you again! How's my sweet little girl doing?"

Betty put up with this, and the hug and kiss, without showing any of the distaste she felt. Patsy was her usual self, bubbling over with false enthusiasm, talking a mile a minute, usually not even listening to herself. Her smile never reached her eyes, and her ever-present giggle and laugh rarely seemed genuine.

"Johnny called me last night and told me we'd all be going to the beach for the weekend. It sounded so wonderful, I just couldn't wait to get going. I came over to pack his things so we'd all be ready to go as soon as lover-boy gets off work. Isn't this exciting? And so sudden!"

"Please, Patsy, my name is Elizabeth or Betty. Not Liz, Lizzy, Lizbeth, Betsy, or any of those other nicknames you use. I don't like them."

"Oh, that's okay. You know I love you anyway Betsy. Now you'd better go get packed up. Your dad's leaving work early, so we'd better be ready to go soon."

"I won't be going to the beach. It's just you two this time. I hope you have lots of fun."

"Don't be silly. Of course you're coming. Johnny said it would be the three of us. So don't give me any of that nonsense about not coming, and go get packed up. You don't have much time to get ready you know."

"No, really, I'm not going to the beach. I've got some things I need to do this weekend and can't get away." This was partly true, since there was a basketball game set for Saturday. Her coach had already excused her from participating though, since she didn't seem mentally fit to play.

"Come on now, what kind of attitude is that. We're both looking forward to spending a nice weekend with you. He'll be heartbroken if he finds out you don't want to go. You wouldn't want to do that to him, would you."

"Patsy, I already told him I wasn't going. He didn't listen either. The only reason he set this up is because he thinks I need to get away."

"So what's wrong with that? It just proves that he cares about you. It certainly wouldn't hurt you to do something to make him happy for a change, now would it. I mean, how hard could it be, spending two glorious days in the sun, with lots of sand, the ocean, seabirds flying overhead, and all those delicious near-naked guys roaming all over the beach. Most girls would be drooling at the prospect. Now quit being silly and go get ready."

Patsy could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. Betty knew, though, that the only reason Patsy was trying to convince her to go was because the trip would probably be off without her. There was always an ulterior motive, usually selfish, behind anything she said.

"No Patsy, not this time. Anyway, I've got some studying to do. I'll be in my room if you need anything." She turned and headed for her room. Patsy got in the last word, like usual.

"Your dad's not going to like this, Lizzy. I hope you change your mind before he gets home."

<<End of chapter 3>>

Next chapter <<present>> Confrontation and a slap in the face, aftermath,
even more secrets <<past>> A long cold summer, a better fall, a Christmas card,
a dinner date

public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email "To Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Path: bull.hkstar.net!news1.hk.linkage.net!hk.linkage.net!hpg30a.csc.cuhk.hk!news.cuhk.edu.hk!news.glink.net.hk!uunet!in3.uu.net!iglou!stbush From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (4/8) X-Sender: stbush@iglou X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.93.960823080018.3329E-100000@iglou> Sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator) Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Fri, 23 Aug 1996 12:01:05 GMT Lines: 837

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 4 of 8

Disclamer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>> Confrontation and a slap in the face, aftermath,
even more secrets <<past>> A long cold summer, a better fall, a Christmas card,
a dinner date

<<past>>

Betty cancelled the last few tutoring sessions with Stacy, claiming they'd already covered more than what she'd missed. Her father accepted that with nothing more than a questioning look.

There were two telephone calls from her as well. Betty basically ignored Stacy on the other end, saying that no, she couldn't make it for coffee that day, she had a date, maybe another time, and hung up. The conversation was for her father's benefit.

The rest of the school year went smoothly.

Mr. Valdez was a changed man ever since she'd seen him in Ms. Flanders office. He became rather shy and soft-spoken, often blushing when speaking with any of the girls. Heck, some of them rather liked him now, he was that different. One thing was rather odd about him though. He rarely sat down, and when he did, he looked, well, uncomfortable, squirming around as though something itched. It became a minor standing joke around school because he rarely if ever sat in class, stood to eat lunch, and leaned against a desk or a wall when relaxing. 'Definitely odd', Betty said to herself, whenever she thought about the changes in him.

When it came time to write the makeup exams, they were administered by Ms. Flanders. Betty aced them. All that pushing by Stacy had helped.

Near the end of the year, one of the junior guys, a cute italian type with big brown eyes, invited her to the junior prom. She accepted, and then talked her dad into letting her go. He gave her strict instructions on how to behave and what not to do.

On prom night, she lost her virginity. Too much alcohol, smuggled in, and a date that wouldn't take no for an answer. At least he used a rubber. It was distinctly unsatisfying. This was supposed to be one of the most glorious events in her life, and all she got was a sore and bloody crotch. He never gave her an orgasm, and never called again. She never told her father.

There was only one person in Betty's life now who she could really talk to, and that was Joyce. Even then she couldn't bring herself to open up completely. There was no mention of that last afternoon with Stacy, or her lingering attraction to the girl. She never discussed the details of prom night, only that she'd lost her virginity. Joyce did help her with the things a mother normally would have, even finding a doctor who would prescribe birth control pills without her father's knowledge. Those long lunches or dinners every few weeks were the only times Betty could open up to anyone. She certainly wouldn't dream of talking about these things with dad.

The summer went pretty much the same way as that last winter and spring, dating different guys, rarely finding any that were satisfying, let alone one who could make her feel really good. The few she let go all the way were mostly inept. Even as inexperienced as she was, she knew there had to be better. Only once had she even climaxed with a guy inside her, and that was just barely. She considered finding a more experienced man, just to find out what it was supposed to be like, but knew she'd never forgive herself if it got out of hand. Masturbation times became frequent, increasing along with the frustration she was feeling with her dates.

Several times during that spring and summer she was invited out on double dates with Robert and Jordan. These were the only real high points of this period, except for her occasional lunches or dinners with Joyce. Everything else seemed rather mundane. Especially her other dates.

For some reason, whenever she got really depressed, her thoughts would return to that one evening with Stacy, in Annabella's. It wasn't the food or the wine or the conversation. What she kept remembering was the silent time they'd shared afterwards, just sitting there, doing nothing. This always made her cry, feeling lonely, feeling the ache of that empty hole inside her.

She could barely feel Stacy's kiss on her cheek as she cried, lighter than a feather's touch, as ephemeral as the faintest hint of a summer's breeze.

<<present>>

Betty had her nose buried in a history text when her dad got home. She hadn't read a thing, but was lying there wondering what would happen if she did move out. The thought was scary, since this was the only home she'd ever really known. Even after her mom moved out, it was still home. Just emptier.

She heard her dad and Patsy talking. Their voices sounded tense, but they were talking quietly enough that she couldn't make out what they were saying. A few minutes later, her father came up to her room.

"Hi short-stuff. What's this nonsense I hear about you not coming to the beach with us? I've already made the reservations. You wouldn't want to ruin the weekend, would you?"

"Dad, I told you yesterday that I wasn't interested in going. You weren't listening. I really don't feel like taking off for the weekend. Another time maybe, but not right now."

"Why are you trying to be so difficult? Getting away for a while is just what you need! It'll help you forget about things for a while, give you a chance to see what you're missing. Now get packed up and lets get going."

"Dad, I won't be going this weekend. I have other plans, including a basketball game tomorrow. You two go ahead and have a good time. I'll be just fine here by myself."

Jonathan was getting angrier by the minute at his daughter's refusal. "Are you planning on seeing that bitch Stacy again? I told you I didn't want you to ever see her again! That woman's no good. She'll ruin you, break your heart, then leave. I don't want you hurt. I'm sure as hell not going to leave you here alone right now. So get packed up. You're coming, like it or not."

Betty was also getting more than a little upset, but wanted to keep her cool. Let dad do the ranting and raving. He'd have to apologize for it later.

"No dad. I won't be going. I'm old enough to start making some of my own decisions. And no, my plans do not include going to see Stacy."

"I don't particularly care what plans you think you've made!" He was shouting now, having lost control. "You're living under my roof, eating my food, spending my money. You'll bloody well do what you're told! Or else!"

"Or else what? You'll spank me? Lock me in my room? Ground me for a month? Or maybe you'll do to me what you did to mother?"

Jonathan glared at her for a few seconds, looking like he was about to shout some more. Then he stepped back out of her room, slamming the door behind him.

A few minutes later she heard her dad and Patsy arguing. They kept their voices down for the most part, but she did hear a few shouted phrases. "You insensitive bastard" "Fucking bitch" "You never loved me!" After a while, the voices stopped, and she heard the front door slam.

Her door opened, revealing Jonathan standing in the doorway. He was staring at her. "I hope you're fucking well satisfied. Patsy's madder than hell at me now and it's all your fault. It'll be ages before she calms down enough to talk to me. You've ruined this weekend for all of us! And you can bloody well stay in this room until you're ready to apologize to both of us for the way you've acted!"

"I don't think I have anything to apologize for. I never lost my temper, I never swore, I never called anybody any nasty names, and I was perfectly civil to Patsy. The only thing I did was not knuckle under and do something I didn't want to."

"You listen to me. You've gotten Patsy upset. You've ruined our plans and made me look like a fool in my own house. And you don't think you've done anything wrong? You're grounded for a week. Longer if I don't get an apology. Starting right now."

He stepped out and slammed the door behind him again. Betty felt like crying, but wouldn't let the tears come yet. She needed to think. The last time she'd seen her father this angry was just before her mother left. Betty wondered if her mother had felt this same way. She needed to talk to someone right now, and the only person she thought would be available was Joyce.

Grabbing her purse, she headed out to the front door.

"Well, are you coming out here to apologize already?" Her father was standing in the kitchen, staring at her.

"No dad. I need someone to talk to so I'm going over to Joyce's for a while."

"I told you you were grounded. That means no going out! Especially to talk with that nosy witch next door! Now get back in your room until you're ready to apologize!"

Her dad was now standing in front of her, towering over her, shouting. She was more afraid of him now than ever before in her life. She was also angry. If she backed down now, he'd be running her life forever. Betty thought that this was what had driven her mother out of the house, his anger, and her need to live her own life.

"Dad, please. Calm down. I need to talk to somebody, and she's the only one around. I'll be back soon, when you've had a chance to cool off."

"I don't need to cool off. I see exactly what's happening! You're trying to do the exact same thing your mother did! I won't let you hurt me like that too! Now get back in your room!"

"No dad. I'm going next door to have a talk with Joyce."

The next thing Betty knew, she was lying on the floor with her father standing over her. She felt her cheek. It was hot, raw, and starting to sting. Her father had a very concerned and frightened look on his face.

"Oh my god Betty. Are you all right? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it, but you forced me. I'll never do anything like it again. Please, say something!"

Betty slid away from him, still on the floor, staring up into his eyes. Getting to her feet, she walked to her room, not taking her eyes off him until she closed the door. Once there, she looked in the mirror. You could see the imprint of his palm and four fingers across the left side of her face. Her lip was cut, and it looked like she'd have a black eye. She stood there and stared at herself for a few minutes, her mind blank, unable to think. A knock on the door brought her back to reality.

"Betty? Betty hon, are you all right? I'd like to talk to you. Please?"

"Don't you dare step foot in here! Go away! I don't ever want to see you again!"

"You don't mean that, hon. You have a nice sleep, and we'll talk about this in the morning. You'll feel a lot better. You'll see." His footsteps faded away down the hall.

Betty looked around her room, feeling very much alone and scared. This is what her father was like. Never before had she seen him hit anyone. Now he'd hit her, because she didn't do what he wanted. Joyce said that he'd hit mother too. This house felt very big and very empty now. Two weeks ago it was her home. Now it was her father's house. He'd said so himself. Not their house. His house. His food, his money. Possessions. Just like his girlfriend and his wife. And his daughter.

Betty stared at the wall for a while. She still loved her father, regardless of what he'd done. But could she ever be happy in this house again? Or could she even stand coming back here, knowing that her father might hit her again?

No, she decided. She wasn't going to let anybody beat her, not even her father. Staying here tonight was now out of the question. Maybe after a day or two to think things through, she might come back. Probably not. Packing up as many essentials as she could in her overnight bag, she tried to prepare herself for the confrontation with her father.

The tight knot of fear in her stomach almost made her ill. Her legs were feeling weak, her knees trembling slightly, and her hands were shaking. The adrenalin rush was wearing off. It was finally sinking in that dad had *hit* her. She had to get out now, before her resolve, or her body, failed.

Grabbing her purse and her bag, she tried for the front door. Jonathan headed her off from the kitchen again.

<<past>>

In the fall things started getting better. Two new teachers showed up in the school, along with a new counselor, and several new boys were in her classes. A couple of them even seemed nice. She joined the women's basketball team, not so much because she loved basketball, but because she wanted to keep fit. It was fun being with the team though, especially when she became the starter at left guard. Sure beat cheerleading.

She and Mr. Valdez were getting along fine now. As long as she wasn't in his class, she didn't mind speaking with him. Besides, he seemed to be a pretty nice guy now.

She found a new boyfriend, Dave. He was quiet and a bit shy, but he genuinely liked her for herself, not just for her good looks. When she got past his shyness, she realized that he was also pretty smart. He worked out regularly and was on the track team as a middle-distance runner, but didn't have that jock mentality. She liked him.

They dated frequently, and every once in a while they'd go all the way. He was decent. Not great, but better than the others. At least he took time to see to her needs, not just his own. He was also romantic, taking her to quiet restaurants, surprising her with flowers and other small gifts, and showing an interest in her activities.

Most of her friends would kill to have a nice guy like this. She liked him, but there was no spark, no sizzle, no deep-down joy in his presence. Sometimes she felt a little cheap, like she was taking advantage of him. This wasn't the person to make her happy for the rest of her life. But for here and now, he was good enough to make her sometimes forget the emptiness that seemed to have permanently settled inside her.

Robert and Jordan still took her out on the occasional double date. Dave didn't like it, he was jealous, but she told him that this was strictly a friendship thing. She and Robert got along quite well together and had formed a close bond. They did finally go to another proper show, this time seeing Showboat. It was, in Jordan's words, 'A Grand Performance, worthy of acclaim in any age'.

To get some real cash of her own, she got a part time job. She was a 'P/T Assistant Stenographer' working in a law office. It was basically a glorified coffee-girl job, and she knew she got it on her looks, but the pay was decent. Her primary duty was to make and serve coffee to all her bosses and their clients. In her words, 'eye-candy.' They did expect her to learn to do filing, record entry, do some typing, open the mail, and help with the general scutwork of the office. It was usually interesting, sometimes fun, and the other girls in the office treated her as a person. She enjoyed both the job and the money.

Jonathan arranged a special treat for the three of them, Patsy, Betty and himself. It was both for Christmas and for Betty's 16th birthday. They went to Aspen, Colorado for a ski holiday, spending ten days there, from December 23 to Jan 2. It was fabulous. There were all kinds of things to do, and no end of cute studs to flirt with. Her skiing was so-so, but none of the guys gave two hoots about that anyway.

It was after they got back and sorted out all the holiday mail that she found a Christmas card addressed to her from Stacy.

It was very simple.

"Dearest Elizabeth

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

I've been thinking of you

KIndest regards, Anastasia"

Inside the card was an invitation for "Dinner at Annabella's" Stacy had written in "Please come. If you don't, I'll understand, and won't bother you again."

The invitation was for 7:00 pm. Yesterday.

She wasn't going to cry. She would *NOT* cry. They never had a relationship. Stacy never really wanted her. It had all been her overactive imagination. Even if there had been something, she was over it by now. The only date they'd ever gone on together was a setup. She'd had other relationships since then, and now she had a boyfriend.

It was only late that night, as she lay in bed, that her eyes betrayed her by leaking again.

She could still feel the faint ghost of that kiss on her cheek.

<<present>>

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know. Away from here for now. I don't want to get hit again."

"Betty, please, that was an accident. You were being so obstinate I lost my temper. It'll never happen again, believe me. So you just go back to your room, have a good nights sleep, and we'll pretend that tonight never happened. Okay?"

Her temper flared now, deep and hot. "Is that what you told mother too? How many times did you hit her before she finally left for good? My limit is once. Period. So unless you're planning on hitting me again, move out of the way."

"Betty, please. I never hit your mother. Whoever told you that was lying. I loved her too much for that. She left me to go live with that slut girlfriend of hers. I wouldn't let her do such disgusting things while she was living here, so she moved out. She obviously never loved me or you, because she's never called once in the last five years. I love you Betty. I don't want to lose you too."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you hit me. I'm probably going to end up moving in with my 'slut girlfriend' too, because I don't have anywhere else to go. I love you, but I can't live here with you, afraid all the time, wondering if you'll hit me again. It just hurts too much. Now please, let me go."

"Okay, I'll let you go for now. When you change your mind and you're ready to come back, I'll expect an apology. You're treating me very poorly, and you know it."

Jonathan stepped aside, and let Betty get out the front door. She turned to say goodbye, but when she saw the look of pain in his eyes, couldn't say anything. She closed the door and walked over to Joyce's house.

The door opened after the first knock. It seems Joyce had been expecting her. By the shocked look that appeared on her face, though, she wasn't expecting what she saw.

"Betty, my poor dear, come in, come in. What happened to you?"

Betty walked over to the kitchen table, sat down, and started to cry.

"He hit me." That's all she said for the next while. The tension and anger that had been keeping her going for the last little while melted away under the heartache she felt.

Joyce handed her some tissues (she always had lots) and murmured some soothing nonsense into her ears. Getting up, she prepared some herbal tea that would help Betty sleep later. She also made a telephone call. Then she made up an ice pack and placed it over Betty's cheek.

It took her quite some time to work the story out of Betty, after she'd slowed down on her crying. The young girl was just finishing up when there was a knock on the door. Joyce looked out the window first to see who it was, then opened the door. It was Stacy, looking very rushed, like she'd just gotten out of bed (she had - the phone call woke her up).

Betty just looked blankly at Stacy for a few seconds, until the girl pulled her up into a big hug. "Stacy? Oh, Stacyyyy...." and started crying all over again. Stacy walked Betty into the front room and pulled the girl down into her lap as she sat on the chesterfield. Joyce followed them in, sitting down on a chair, and repeated as much of the story as she knew.

Betty felt a lot better after she'd finished crying. Stacy was here, and Stacy still loved her. She could face almost anything with her support.

"Okay, Little Blossom. Feeling better? Want to talk about it?"

Betty had heard Joyce fill Stacy in on most of the details, so she wouldn't have to repeat the whole story.

"He hurt me." They all knew she wasn't talking about the physical pain. "I don't want to be hurt like that again. I don't think I can go back there, knowing he might do it again."

<<past>>

When Betty awoke, it was to thoughts of Stacy. Her vaguely remembered dreams also had Stacy in them, though they faded fast. Her head felt thick and cottony, and her eyes were puffy. She'd been crying in her sleep. A slow chant ran through her mind that day, over and over again. "I'm over Stacy. There's nothing left. There never was. It's gone." Every once in a while a tiny voice could be heard, far in the background, saying just one word. "Ha!"

The next day was worse, and the day after that worse still. It was driving her up the wall. Finally she realized that the only way she'd be able to get over this would be to own up to her feelings. She'd have to see Stacy, face to face. One way or the other, she'd know, and could then deal with it honestly. How to see her? And when? A vague plan started to form. She'd face Stacy on Stacy's turf, but on her own terms. She'd need help.

First, Stacy's phone number. It had disappeared during the cleanup of all the tutoring stuff. Her number wasn't in the telephone book. Well, hopefully Ms. Flanders would still have it. That would have to wait for school tomorrow. She'd ask first thing in the morning.

Second, where. Annabella's obviously. It was the one place she kept thinking of. At least they were in the white pages. Odd that they weren't in the yellow pages.

Third, when. Now, and get it over with? No, she'd need time to think this through properly. So would Stacy. What would Stacy's reaction be? That Christmas card could be interpreted in too many different ways. All she could do is wait and see.

Fourth, how. Betty couldn't just call her and invite her out. She just wasn't brave enough for that. It would have to be done through someone else. Who? The only people they knew in common were Robert and Jordan. No, she couldn't get them involved. Annabella's? The same way Stacy'd tried? Well, only if they could guarantee that Stacy would be personally contacted. She'd also have to make sure Stacy could cancel through them, if she didn't want to get together.

There was enough money in her bank account so she could afford to do this properly. She hoped.

Getting Stacy's telephone number from Ms. Flanders was easy - and quite embarrassing. She told the V.P. that she wanted it because her friend was looking for a tutor, and she'd heard that Stacy was good. Ms. Flanders stared at Betty until she blushed and dropped her eyes to the floor. "Riiiiiight. Here's her number. Tell your ... friend ... to put it somewhere safe, okay?"

Setting up dinner was a lot more complicated.

Since Betty wasn't a member, she had to go down in person to set things up and pay in advance. The only reason she'd be allowed to do it is because Stacy was a member. Without Stacy's agreement, dinner would be off. Betty gave them her own full name, address, and telephone number before going down to meet with Diana, who would be arranging things.

Lucky for her the meeting was set for 4:00 pm, early enough that she wouldn't need to make up any excuses for dad.

Diana was a friendly young lady, in her early twenties, dressed in a pink version of the dress everyone there seemed to wear. It turns out she usually split her time between doing memberships and organizing dinners and being a hostess. (Hostess? But Jacklyn said she was a host?) She led Betty into the membership office (oversized broom closet) and sat at her desk. Betty perched in one of the two guest chairs. There wasn't much else in there except for one big filing cabinet and a computer. Not enough room for any more.

"All right Elizabeth. Before we start with the arrangements, I'd like to get something straightened out. I thought you said you weren't a member."

This earned her a rather puzzled look from Betty. "I'm not. I've only ever been here once, and that was with someone else."

Diana did some typing on her computer. "Elizabeth Brust. Same address, same telephone number, membership application received and approved four years ago, applicant age twelve, physical description seems to match after allowing for the age difference, three valid referrals given then, one given recently, and also a notarized release form from a legal parent. It certainly looks like you're a member."

"Four years ago? When I was twelve? Who would sign me up in a restaurant that I'd never been in before in my life?"

"Elizabeth, this isn't just a restaurant. It's ... ack. Well, I can't give you the names on the referrals, they're always confidential, but I can tell you that the application and release forms were signed by Marion Brust, relationship, Mother."

"Why the heck would mom sign me up here?"

"If you're asking me, I could only make guesses. You should ask her that."

"I haven't seen my mother in years."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. But according to our records, you are a member in good standing, with all due privileges. So, back to business. You said something about wanting to set up a dinner with someone?"

"Yes. Anastasia Augden. But I can't invite her myself. I need someone else to do that for me, and to see if she wants to come. That's part of the reason I'm here. I was hoping you could help me."

"Why can't you ask her yourself? Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to pry into personal matters. Of course I'd be glad to help."

By this time Betty was blushing, feeling quite embarrassed about revealing even this much to anyone. At least Diana was a stranger.

"What type of evening did you have in mind? A meal, a full dinner, or desserts and coffee?"

"I was hoping for a really nice dinner. How much would it cost?"

"If you go for the evening dinner, that's $125 for two. Two meals would run from $50 to $100, depending on what you ordered and had to drink."

Some thoughts flickered through Betty's mind. 'Ouch! It IS expensive here. Is this really worth it? The only way I'll ever know ...'

"What's included with the dinner?"

"Aperitif, Appetizer, soup/salad, main course, dessert, coffee/tea, and two half-litres of any of the house wines. Drinks or any other wines are additional. The main course is your choice of the chef's two or three specials for the day."

"I think that's what we'll have."

"All right, and when will this be for?"

"Saturday after next, the twenty-first."

"No problem. The main course is usually ready around eight, so most people arrive between six-thirty and seven."

"Okay. Can I reserve a specific table for this?"

"Ummm, usually not, but in this case, I'll try to make an exception. Which table would you like?"

"Well, I don't really remember where it is. Like I said, I've only been here once. I do remember it's a long way from the entrance and near a bar. A table for two with an 'L' shaped booth seat."

"Let's go find it."

They found the table without much trouble. Betty asked how much desserts and coffee cost, describing what they'd had that evening. "How long ago was that? Early last spring? And you've hardly spoken to her since? That must have been a memorable evening."

It had cost Stacy around thirty dollars to treat Betty that night so long ago. Two night's tutoring fees.

Back in the office Diana did some typing on her computer, then said she might as well call Anastasia right away.

"Please, don't let her know I'm here. Tell her that I ... well, that I was unavailable for her last invitation. I don't want any type of misunderstandings for this one. She'll understand."

"All right. Is this some sort of birthday surprise for her?"

"Birthday? It's her birthday?"

"You didn't know? According to the computer, her birthday is the twentieth."

"No, I didn't know. And no, it has nothing to do with her birthday."

Diana called up Stacy on the telephone. Betty listened to half of the conversation.

"Hello, Anastasia? ... This is Diana, from Annabella's. ... Yes, the restaurant. I've got an invitation here for you for dinner from a young lady named Elizabeth. ... Yes, Elizabeth ... Elizabeth Brust. She seemed to know you ... You'll be here? But I haven't told you when yet ... Oh, I see, it doesn't matter, you'll be here anyway. It's set for Saturday the twenty-first, at six thirty ... You'll be here and to hell with the party ... Uh huh. Elizabeth also asked me to tell you that she was unavailable for your last invitation, and she wanted us to contact you personally so there'd be no misunderstandings. I don't know what that's about, but she said you'd understand ... Anastasia? Are you all right? Anastasia? ... No, no, that's quite all right. No apologies are necessary. I'll inform Elizabeth that you'll be here ... You're quite welcome ... No, Anastasia, no trouble at all ... You're welcome. Goodbye."

"Yes, that must have been some memorable evening you had. I can see why you didn't want to call her yourself."

"Diana, that evening, we'd been studying. She brought me here and we had coffees and desserts. Then she dropped me off at home. That's all that happened."

"All right. I won't pry any further. Anastasia certainly seemed, well, happy about the invitation."

Following that, Betty wrote out a check for payment, adding in a generous tip, and went home. Now that dinner was set, and she couldn't back down, she was feeling excited, and, yes, she dreaded it too. Why had Stacy sent her that invitation? And why couldn't she get that girl out of her mind?

Time seemed to stand still.

<<present>>

"Don't worry," Joyce said. "You don't have to go back there. There are too many people that love you for you to have to go back. We'll work something out, you'll see. Besides, there's always a silver lining no matter how bad things look. Just think, you could move in with Stacy now. I'm sure you'd both wish it was under better circumstances, but what the heck. Or you could stay with me for a few days, or stay with another friend somewhere, or get a motel room and stay away from everyone for a while."

"That's right, Betty, it's your choice." Stacy started nibbling on Betty's ear, which happened to be almost in the older girl's mouth anyway. "Of course, I know which choice I'd like."

"Stacy, please, we've got an audience." She blushed.

"That's all right, dearie, it's nothing I haven't seen before. Don't forget, I have been around a while."

A sudden thought crossed Betty's mind, popping out of nowhere, making her wonder.

"Joyce, were you ever mom's lover?"

"Heavens, where did that come from?" She smiled, and almost giggled. "No, child, I was never your mother's lover. She hinted that she was willing, once or twice, after moving away from your father, but that sort of thing wasn't really for me. I'm too old-fashioned to change my tastes. Besides, your mother had a lover already."

"Now don't go giving me any funny looks either. I don't think there's anything wrong with what you two are doing. I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by it. I think you make the cutest couple of lovebirds I've seen in a long time. Enough of this, or I'll start crying too."

"Joyce, you said you could maybe let me talk with my mother. Could I do that now?"

"I'd love to, hon, but she's gone for the weekend on business. Won't be back until monday afternoon. We'll call then. I don't want to give you the number because I promised your mother I'd never give it out to anyone, especially if there was any chance your father could get hold of it. She went through a lot of trouble to make sure he couldn't trace her down."

"Just to make you feel a little better, though, there's one more person in on this conspiracy. You can call on him for help if necessary. Betty, you've never met him before, but Stacy has. His name is Walter."

Now Stacy was confused. "Walter? I don't know any Walter." She was running through all her friends in town and all the people she knew from the university, but there was no Walter that stood out.

"Sure you do. Walter." Seeing the puzzled look still there, she added "Walter. The guy that sends you money every month."

"Walter? You mean daddy? My father?" Somehow, she was having a hard time grasping this. "I've never told him anything. I mean, he lives clear across the state. How would he know anything about this?"

"You may find this strange, but it's a very small world we live in. Your father and Betty's mother actually dated for a while in high-school. They bumped into each other about a year ago and became friends again. After talking about their lives and their families for a while (what Marion was willing to discuss, anyway) he mentioned that his daughter Stacy was going to college in this town. Your mother said that she hadn't seen you in years, but knew that you had a close friend named Stacy and that your name was Betty. Now you have mentioned Betty to your father a few times, just not in any detail. They both thought it odd, so your mother called me and asked for Stacy's last name."

"Augden" said Betty and Stacy together.

"Right. Your mother had already told him of her prior female lovers and had hinted that her daughter was probably involved with another woman too, long before either of them had made the connection that they were both talking about the same people when discussing their daughters and their daughters' friends. That's when she asked Walt if he could keep a secret. She figured that he'd be better off if she laid it all out immediately, rather than him finding out for sure later. He agreed, stating that he would keep it as long as it wasn't going to hurt his daughter. She thought that was fair, so she filled him in on everything, including how I was fairly certain you two were lovers."

"According to your mother, that stunned him. She didn't see him for several days, and when she did, he wouldn't talk to her about you two. Instead, he started asking her about her relationship with Diana. Now your mother wasn't living with Diana anymore, but had mentioned her to Walt."

"Mom and Diana aren't together anymore?"

"No, and you'd better talk to her about it personally. She'd be better at explaining it than I would. Anyway, Walt questioned Marion about her relationship with Diana several times. I guess he got the answers he was looking for, because he gradually came to accept the fact that his daughter might be dating another woman. I'm still not sure he believed it, but he no longer seemed as upset."

"So that's how you managed to find me at that motel. I thought the only person who knew where I'd gone to stay was my father."

"That's right. I wormed it out of him. I figured the breaking point was coming up fast, and you two should at least know how you felt about each other before anything else happened. I almost messed that up by being too late."

"I'm going to have a long talk with daddy, real soon." Stacy never had spoken openly about her sexuality with her father. He was one of the old-fashioned types who believed in family values, and a woman's place was in the home. He let her go to university figuring that it was probably one of the best places in the world to meet eligible young men. "Now that he knows, and seems to be used to the idea, maybe I can talk to him about how I feel."

"That's probably a good idea. But save it for later. Right now, it's time to sort out what Betty will be doing, at least for the next few days. You're welcome to stay here for a couple of nights if you like, but I think it may be just a little too close to your father for your peace of mind. I'm going to go make some fresh tea and fix myself a snack. Anyone else hungry?"

"No thanks", Stacy replied. "I ate just before I crashed, not too long before you called."

"Yes please. I'm starved." At the mention of food, Betty's stomach reminded her that she'd missed dinner.

"Okay, I'll be back in a while." She got up and left the two of them alone in the living room.

<<End of chapter 4>>

Next chapter <<present>> The decision, what to do what to do <<past>> The dinner, another dessert date with conversation,
the giveaway

public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email "To Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Path: bull.hkstar.net!news1.hk.linkage.net!hk.linkage.net!hpg30a.csc.cuhk.hk!news.cuhk.edu.hk!news.glink.net.hk!uunet!in3.uu.net!iglou!stbush From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (5/8) X-Sender: stbush@iglou X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.93.960823080119.3329F-100000@iglou> Sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator) Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Fri, 23 Aug 1996 12:02:48 GMT Lines: 849

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 5 of 8

Disclamer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>> The decision, what to do what to do <<past>> The dinner, another dessert date with conversation,
the giveaway

<<past>>

Betty didn't think the day would ever arrive, but somehow she ended up standing in front of Annabella's, working up the nerve to go in. It was 6:20. She wanted to be there first, wanted to be able to study Stacy's face when Stacy finally saw her.

Her dad had been no problem. He thought she was going out with Robert for the evening. She'd asked Robert beforehand, and he said it would be okay this once, because it was so important to her, and he'd cover. He also volunteered to pick her up and drop her off at the restaurant, and said to call him if she needed a ride home. He was such a nice guy.

It had taken hours for her to get her hair and makeup just so. She was wearing her new pale pink evening dress, with matching everything. Dad probably thought she was wanting to turn every head in the place, making the guys drool, and the girls green with envy. He was close. It was just one head she wanted to turn. You'd rarely see anyone better in the fashion magazines. Betty wasn't really sure why it was so important to her to make a good impression on Stacy, but reasoned that it couldn't hurt.

Finally, steeling herself, she walked in. The maitre'd was the same lady who'd been there so long before.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Yes. I have a reservation. It's for Betty, uh, I mean Elizabeth Brust."

"Elizabeth ... Elizabeth .. Yes, right here. Oh. Now I remember you, you've been in once before, haven't you? Quite some time ago."

"Well, yes I have."

"So you're that Elizabeth. Welcome. I'll have Jacklyn show you to your table. I hope you have a very pleasant evening."

The restaurant was much more crowded than last time, even though Betty couldn't see very many of the patrons. There were quite a few waitresses (Hosts? Hostesses?) running around. All were wearing the same style of dress, but some were in blue, some were in pink, two others were in black, and she'd seen one in white. The odd thing was that the accouterments rarely matched the colour of the dress. One person in a pink dress would be wearing blue jewelry and a black scarf, one in a blue dress had pink accessories. The ones in black were all in black, but the one in white had red accessories, the only colour she'd seen other than blue, pink, white and black.

When Jacklyn finished guiding Betty through the maze to her table, Betty had to ask.

"What do all the different colours the waitresses, uh, I mean hosts, what do the colours they wear mean?"

Jacklyn looked at her for a moment, wearing a very strange expression. Then, with a big smile, she said "You are an innocent, aren't you. Well, I'm not going to ruin things by explaining the differences. It will probably help you to know, though, that all the ladies wearing black or blue dresses, like me, are hosts, and the ladies in pink, white, or yellow are hostesses. Now, would you like something to drink while you wait?"

This only served to confuse her further. She decided to ignore it for now.

"What would you recommend? I don't usually drink much, and I don't want to get drunk."

"I'd recommend a Brazilian Special, light. It's a good, smooth, cream coffee, light on the tastebuds, with just enough creme 'd cacao added to give it a slight edge."

"Okay, I'll try it."

The coffee was good, and wasn't too strong.

Stacy (sorry, not Stacy - Anastasia) came in at 6:45. She looked better than she had the night of the show. Her hair was up, piled high, with a simple silver comb helping to hold it in place. Her makeup was flawless, lipstick a pale pink. The dress she wore was a light blue smock, dropping to just above her knees, cut to display her figure. Dark blue stockings, shoes, belt, and a white purse completed the picture. She looked beautiful - nervous and uptight, yes, but still gorgeous.

After very simple "hi's" were exchanged, Betty slid over into the corner seat, leaving Stacy sitting down on the outside. The older girl ordered a Berlin mint coffee to start with. Neither said anything until after their host delivered her drink. She broke the silence.

"Why did you invite me here today?"

It took a minute for Betty to answer.

"I have to know. That night we were here, I need to know if it was us, or if it was my imagination. This is the only way for me to find out. I thought I'd figured it out once, way back then, but I don't know anymore. Please, let's not ruin anything by talking right now. I'd like to have us enjoy a really nice meal together. Please, Anastasia?"

"Yes Elizabeth. I think I could enjoy having a nice meal. Together."

When their host came to ask about appetizers, she also asked if the ladies wanted full dinners or the lighter portions. Lighter consisted of less of everything except the main dish. This was done because there were many women who couldn't finish a full meal, never mind enjoy dessert afterwards, and felt guilty leaving food behind. Both asked for the lighter portions.

It was a fabulous dinner. They shared a shrimp cocktail for an appetizer, and ordered a half-litre of the house dry white wine to go with their meal. Next, Betty had some Beaufort bisque soup while Stacy had a Spanish salad. Their main course choices were veal chops savoyarde, wine-braised pork tenderloin with mushrooms, or chicken breast with artichokes. Betty picked the veal and Stacy picked the pork.

They shared some from each other's plates, of course. Betty made the first move by stealing a mushroom from Stacy, then looking totally innocent, like she'd never ever do anything like that. Stacy retaliated by pointing out one of the hostesses, then stealing a piece of ham from Betty (yes, that's part of the veal dish) when she looked up. It escalated from there. Betty was never sure afterwards whether she'd had more of her meal or of Stacy's. Both were delicious.

They both relaxed a bit after finishing the main course, before ordering dessert, and just leaned back. Betty ordered another half-litre of wine. She also asked to see a menu, wanting to know what other desserts were available. Their host brought them desserts-only menus. Everything had pictures, even the weekly special. Betty thought she'd gain five pounds just looking.

After the two of them drooled for a while, pointing out some that looked especially nice, they ordered. Stacy went for the chocolate raspberry torte (what can I say - she likes raspberries). Betty couldn't decide whether she wanted that fruited streusel thingy with the orange cream, or the Grand Marnier chocolate mousse torte. When Stacy pointed at the little river of chocolate sauce running off the whipped cream, she went for the chocolate mousse. Yes, these were decadent times.

Before the desserts came, there was a surprise. The maitre'd arrived at the table with two other girls, one 'host' and one 'hostess'.

"Good evening Elizabeth, Anastasia. To honor your birthday (nodding at Stacy) and your first official dinner here (nodding at Betty), may I present a gift from the management."

The 'gifts' were two beautiful bouquets of flowers, both centerpieced with carnations surrounded by pink, white, and green. One had white carnations, the other had pink.

"They're gorgeous!"

Betty reached out to take the one with pink carnations, but Stacy stopped her and handed her the white bouquet. She took the pink for herself.

Both girls thanked the maitre'd and the host and hostess.

Dessert done, sipping on the last of the wine, coffees on order, Stacy relaxed by slipping off her shoes, turning, and sitting in the corner. Betty slipped off her shoes, turned, leaned back into the corner padding, and put both of her feet into Stacy's lap. The older girl turned and looked at her, wearing a puzzled expression. It looked like she was about to say something, but then turned back without a word. She began to massage the feet in her lap.

They sat there like that for some time, through the last of the wine and then through the coffees, Betty watching Stacy, Stacy staring off into nowhere. Betty broke their long silence.

"Will you invite me here for dessert again?"

After a long pause. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes please. But not right away. Maybe in a week or two."

"It's a date. Guaranteed."

Betty ordered two more coffees. She didn't want to leave yet.

"Elizabeth, how did you arrange this? It's a member's only restaurant."

"When I first called, they said that if you were coming, they would let me use your membership, if you agreed. That wasn't necessary."

"It wasn't?"

"No. I'm a member."

Stacy turned and looked Betty straight in the eye. "How did you become a member?"

Betty smiled and shrugged her shoulders. After a minute with no other reply, Stacy turned her head back and stared off into the distance again.

"Elizabeth, do you know what this place is?"

"No, Anastasia, I don't. You and a few other people have made me realize it's not just a nice restaurant. I found out that some of the girls are 'hosts', and some are 'hostesses'. It just made me more confused."

"That's all right. In time, you'll learn. Right now, we'll leave you as an innocent, in white and pink."

Eventually they packed up to go. Stacy offered Betty a ride, but was refused. She said she wanted the evening to end just like this. It was late, so she called a cab. She also called Robert to let him know she was okay and wouldn't need a ride home, and thanked him again.

Betty felt better now than she had in a long, long time.

<<present>>

The two of them just sat there for a while, Stacy humming a bit and playing with Betty's hair, Betty trying to sort out how she felt about moving away from home, her father, Stacy, her mother, moving in with Stacy, how her friends would react, how it would feel living with Stacy, going back to school monday, how she was going to survive on her own, and how nice it felt to be sitting there with Stacy. She giggled, suddenly realizing where her thoughts kept circling around to.

"What's so funny, Little Blossom?"

"Well, it's a bit strange. I'm trying to sort out what to do about dad, moving out, school, and everything else. The trouble is, every line of thought I follow ends up with you in it. I guess I really am in love."

"Now that you brought it up, I've been sitting here daydreaming, not thinking about anything in particular, except about how right it feels with you here. I already know I love you. I figured that out this past week. I missed you so much it hurt. I just didn't know how you felt, because we've never used the word love before. I don't want to lose you. Now, look me in the eye. Elizabeth, I love you."

Betty's heart just melted, right there. Stacy was serious, and meant every word. Betty knew she loved Stacy, but until that moment didn't realize how much, or how much Stacy loved her.

Fighting back her tears, Betty replied. "Anastasia Celeste Augden, I love you too. Now kiss me." And they did, in a long, passionate embrace. It was like being in heaven, being held by the person she most loved in the world, knowing that she was loved just as much in return, and then feeling and tasting the passion in those lips and that tongue, their kiss being both soft and sensuous. Betty could care less that it hurt her face. This was interrupted by an "Ahem" from the doorway, some time after it started.

"I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds, but the tea is hot and the sandwiches are cold. Therefore I need you both in the kitchen. Come along." They got up and followed Joyce. A plate of cold cuts, bread, and fixings was set out, along with a large pot of fresh tea.

After they all sat down and the tea was poured, Joyce spoke again.

"I assume from what I saw in there that you've made up your mind where you'll be staying?"

"I think I'll be moving in with Stacy. That is, if she'll have me."

"Elizabeth, you're being silly again. I'd be heartbroken if you even considered going anywhere else. Of course I want you." And with a wink, "In more ways than one."

<<past>>

Sunday she'd had another date with Dave, her boyfriend. To his surprise and delight she was the aggressor that night, doing things he'd only ever had wet dreams of. She satisfied herself and him physically several times, but emotionally she felt very little. Finally she had to admit to herself that she was using him as a shield against finding someone who would inspire feelings, and possibly pain again, in her. It was time to let him go, regardless of how things went with Stacy.

Stacy called the following week, setting up a date for thursday, around eight. Betty was thrilled, but nervous and uptight as well. She liked Stacy a lot, and knew now that her feelings for the other girl were real. It just felt right in the restaurant when they'd had dinner. This yearning to be with Stacy was there and hard to resist. Could she? According to the half-conversation she'd heard in Diana's office, Stacy had some pretty strong feelings too. She just didn't want to fall into the same trap she'd landed in before. This next date would determine if she'd continue seeing Stacy, or forget all about her, regardless of her own emotions.

At precisely 8:00, Betty was in Stacy's car and they were heading to the restaurant. The only words spoken were by Betty. "We'll have a nice long talk after we eat."

Betty had an English trifle along with a cafe Belge, and Stacy had key lime pie and the house coffee. They split a half-litre of the house dry white wine. Betty made a mental note to find out what kind it was. It was good.

After their desserts, they relaxed. It wasn't the same booth this time. It had and 'L' shaped seat, but both ends were open. Surprising the hell out of Stacy, Betty took the initiative, sliding right around the corner, putting her now-shoeless feet up on the other side, and leaning back into Stacy. In self-defense, the older girl put her arm around Betty's waist to keep herself from being slowly pushed off the seat.

"Anastasia, do you still have that lover?"

Stacy was again surprised, this time by the forthright nature of the question. Her mental image of Betty was that of a rather shy, timid girl.

"You mean the one I had last year, when we, uh, parted company?"

"That's the one."

"No. We broke up again about a month after that."

"Why?"

"<sigh> That's a difficult question. It was probably your fault. I was always very much physically attracted to the lady, and she could do things for me that nobody else I've met could. The one thing this lady wasn't, though, was a friend, or a nice person. I needed more than just the physical part of a relationship. It took a while after our split for your words to sink in. I was cheating myself in this relationship, and in any others where I couldn't connect physically, emotionally and mentally. It was also cheating on the other person, because I'd be looking for what was missing with someone else."

"Have you had any lovers since then?"

"None. I have had bedmates, but that's not the same. With them, we both knew we were looking for physical pleasure, with no commitment."

"I've had a bunch of different bedmates too, since then."

<Insert suitable pause for Stacy to get over her shock>

"Elizabeth, what have you been up to?"

"I've been trying to find someone who could give me some spark, or some real emotional highs. Sex was supposed to be the greatest thing ever, so I tried it. I lost my virginity to a half-drunken lout who jerked himself off with my vagina. After that, I let a few of my dates go all the way. They were all beginners and couldn't even satisfy me physically.

"I finally found a nice guy who could give me pleasure, and did every chance he could get, but even with good sex I still felt empty and hollow afterwards, not satisfied. There was no real feeling, no big release, when we had sex. I've decided to drop him because of that. He deserves to have someone who'll be really happy with him."

"It sounds like you've become very experienced and jaded over the last year."

"No, I don't think so. I haven't found anybody who's good for me yet, who can teach me what I need to know. And I'm not experienced. A half-dozen near-identical copies of the same wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am guy isn't my idea of enlightening. Now, if only I could find a straight version of Robert."

"Is that what you're looking for? A guy that can entertain, thrill, and excite you, all at the same time, and still be good in bed?"

"I'm looking for ... someone ... who can do that for me."

Stacy ordered another half-litre of wine and two house coffees.

"Elizabeth, you've changed an awful lot since last year. That person I taught english to could never sit in a restaurant discussing her sex life in public. And she'd never be caught dead in public with another girl's arm around her."

"Would the old Elizabeth have politely told you to shove-off in a restaurant, like I did last year?"

"Touche. I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did. You are more aggressive than you used to be, though."

"True. But just remember, we're in a private restaurant, in a private booth, and I imagine the staff is very discreet. And I'm not discussing myself in public, I'm talking with Anastasia."

"I am a little more forthright. I've found that the people worth knowing rarely come to you. They have to be tracked down and ambushed, just so they take notice. There are too many other things in their lives that they're involved in so they'd never find sweet, innocent, shy you. Like Dave, my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. He's a wonderful person, but until I hunted him down and broke through the armor, there's no way I could have known that. He'd never dare approach the prettiest girl in school and ask her for a date."

"So why haven't you had any other lovers, Anastasia?"

<long pause>

"Come on, 'fess up. I'm trying to learn who you are."

"All right, you asked for it. I've had opportunities, and several girls and guys have hinted that they're interested, especially some of the juniors and seniors in college. These weren't all hitting on be because of my looks, either. Some were really interested in me. I let the guys down gently, of course, but it was more difficult with the girls. It's very hard for a girl to approach another girl. It takes a lot of courage, because you might be making a mistake. I had to let them know that yes, it was okay, yes I was attracted, but no I wasn't really interested in any kind of long-term commitment."

<another pause>

"Anastasia, come on. You've told me what, but not why."

"Let's leave that for another time, please. I'm not ready to talk about it. Not yet."

"<sigh> More secrets. All right, answer me this instead. How come you don't go out with guys?"

"That's something I've never shared with anybody, not even my father. Maybe someday, but not here, not now. I'm still not comfortable being with you, Elizabeth. I don't have your, uh, your confidence. It takes me a long time before I completely trust someone, even you. Even though I want to."

"I guess I'll have to live with that, for now. Just one more question, before we get going. When you came here to have dinner with me, did you really miss out on a party?"

"How did you ... What did ... All right, yes I did miss out on a party. It wasn't a big deal though. How did you know about that?"

"It was your birthday party, wasn't it. You gave up a lot to be with me, didn't you."

"Yes, I guess I did. I had to choose what was more important to me. We moved the party to Friday instead, even though some of my friends wouldn't be able to make it. It was still a nice party. Who knows, maybe Saturday could be one of the best birthday presents I've ever had."

"Thank you for being honest."

"Your turn. How did you know about the party?"

"Nope. I said just one more question, and that was it. You'll just have to be curious until next time."

"When will next time be?"

"How about Saturday after next. Phone me and invite me shopping. It's time we met somewhere other than here. I can't afford this place often enough."

"Me neither, though I'd like to. I'll call you next week."

Little was said on the drive back to Betty's place.

<<present>>

"Now that that's settled, eat up. The food's getting warm and the tea is getting cold."

After Joyce and Betty finished eating, and everyone had had their fill of tea, Joyce noticed that Betty was thinking about something, and it was bothering her. She thought she knew what it was.

"Betty, now that you've decided you're moving away from your father, it's time to think about what's next. You've got a place to stay, at least for a while. What about the long haul. Did you want to finish school, go to college, find a job, or what?"

"I wasn't thinking that far ahead. I was trying to figure out what to do about simple things, like food and clothes and stuff. Almost everything I own is at home, and I don't think I could go back there to get it. At least not right away. My father now scares me too much. I don't think he realizes yet that I'm moving out permanently. He probably thinks I'll be back in a day or two, ready to beg for his forgiveness. Fat chance."

"'Atta girl. That's the right attitude. To hell with that ignorant neanderthal. I know you still love him, but that doesn't change what he is, an arrogant, hot-tempered, bull-headed, homophobic misogynist. I'm sorry, sweetie, but that's the way I feel about him."

"Now, what are the important things that you need. I don't mean like clothes either. I mean personal things that you don't want to lose. We can replace the clothes, but there's no way to replace the things you love. I have a couple of ideas on how I might be able to get them for you."

"Well, there's my photo albums, my trophies, Bert (her teddy bear), some of my jewelry, the photo of mum and dad and me, the one of me and Stacy hidden in the closet, some of the knick-knacks on top of the dresser, and probably a few other things I can't remember. Oh, right, my school stuff. I need the textbooks and my notebooks and binders. Some of that stuff I've been working on for a month. I wouldn't have time to re-do it. And my basketball uniform. It would be hard to replace in a hurry."

"No problem. Knowing that you need those things for school will make it easier to get the rest. I'll pick them up sunday night."

"Joyce, no! I couldn't let you go in there with him. He might hurt you!"

"Don't worry about me, sweetie, but thanks for caring. I'll have two very large police officers with me. They helped me deal with your father after your mother left, and don't like him any more than I do. It'll be fun seeing him squirm again. The only problem is, he'll probably try and take it out on you later, or on Patsy. That reminds me, I'd better call her and warn her about what's happened so she can lay low too."

"Patsy? You talk with her too? After what she did?"

"Listen sweetie, Patsy was part of the reason your parents broke up, but certainly not the only cause. If it wasn't her, it would have been someone else. She is a conniving bitch, always scheming to get what she wants, but she did help out your mother and I several times after the breakup. I owe her a few favours. I don't think I'd let even her walk in on your dad right now without some warning."

"Joyce," asked Stacy, "you sound like you're really enjoying this."

"Stacy, I enjoy the intrigues, the secrets and mysteries, the late-night rendezvous, and sometimes even the confrontations. I don't enjoy seeing my friends get hurt, or battered, or worse. That makes me very mad. Those of us involved with the breakup knew that this would happen, as soon as Betty started to have an independent life. Her father would try to keep control of 'his little girl', and a showdown would be inevitable. And, using his past actions as a guide, it would probably be fairly messy. That's why we prepared for this. Stacy, if you weren't here for Betty, we had several different backup plans ready to go."

"You mean you had everything planned for me, what I was going to do and everything? Isn't that like what my father's trying to do?"

"No, not really. We were ready with alternatives, giving you some choices as to what you could do. It would always be your choice, even if you wanted to move back in with your father. I don't think you would, but you would be free to do so."

"You're right on that. I don't think I could. What other choices do I have?"

"Well, Marion and Mike have set aside some money as a just-in-case fund, that I can use as I see fit. There's enough cash in it now for you to finish high school. There's certainly more than enough to get you set up again away from your father, even starting from scratch. They've also promised to put you through college, if that's what you want."

"The other choice would be to move in with them, before or after you finish school. It would probably be harder for you, having to move away from all your friends, but you would be with your mother, who still loves you very much."

"Okay, I get the idea. But - Mike? Who's Mike?"

"Damn my big mouth. Forget I said that. It's something you can ask your mother about. So like I said, there are some choices for you. My advice is that you move in with that delightful lady beside you, and use some of that money to get settled in and support yourself. If you two split the costs, there should be enough for you to set up house and finish school without needing a job. Just remember, though, this is advice only. I'm not telling you what to do."

"It sounds like good advice though. I'm going to have to think about it."

"Good. In the meantime, I take it you'll be staying with Stacy tonight?" Betty nodded her head in assent. "Fine. I'll pick you up around eleven tomorrow morning, and we'll go shopping for some things. This isn't optional. I'm in a good mood and feel like going out and spending money, and I can't think of a better way of doing it. You too Stacy, if you'd like to come."

"It sounds like fun. I always feel better after a day of serious bargain hunting."

"Doesn't everyone?" They all laughed.

Joyce chased them out of the house, telling them to get a good night's sleep. They'd need it for tomorrow. After they left, the curtains in the next house slid back into position. Daddy had been watching.

<<past>>

It took Betty days to figure out how to break up with Dave. She didn't want to just dump him because he was too nice a guy to do that to. He'd be hurting for too long. Then she thought about Rosie, and a plan came to mind. She wouldn't dump Dave, she'd give him away. Perfect.

Rosie would be a good match for him. She was intelligent, witty, and with friends she could be very daring. In public, though, she was much too shy. Sometimes she wouldn't even have to turn down a date. The guy would give up after a minute or two of her blushing and stammering. There were a few guys who'd taken her out, but the word was she was too shy to be any fun. It took her a long time to get used to someone.

Betty had known Rosie for years, and knew how much she envied the easy way Betty had with guys, even the jerks. She would never go looking for the right man. If managed properly, they could end up being very good for each other. Now for the rest of the plan.

First she called Dave and invited him out to dinner next Friday. He was surprised, but said okay. He was even more surprised when she told him to cancel any plans he had for the weekend. He'd be busy. Remembering what happened the last time she took control, he agreed quickly.

Next, Rosie. When she called Rosie up, she invited her out for a blind date Friday. It took a while to convince her to come, but Betty was insistent, and finally she agreed. Betty also learned that Rosie had no other concrete plans for the weekend. The stage was set.

Also during the week Stacy called and they agreed to meet at a nearby mall Saturday at eleven.

Friday showed up, like it usually does, and Betty got to the restaurant early. She wanted to get as private a booth as possible, just in case things got difficult. Dave was supposed to be there half an hour before Rosie, so she'd have some time to talk. There were butterflies in her stomach, small knots of fear and excitement at what she was going to try.

When Dave showed up and saw her, a big grin came over his face. She grinned back. They exchanged greetings. He asked what the big deal was for the weekend.

"Dave, you're going to be busy this weekend." His grin got bigger. "But not with me." His grin froze, then slowly disappeared.

"I really don't know how to say this. You are one of the sweetest, kindest men I've ever known. You are a genuinely nice person. But you are not the man for me. If I let this go on much longer, you're going to use that 'L' word. Don't say anything, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me."

"So you're dumping me, is that it?"

"No."

"Then what? You say I'm not the guy for you, and then you say you're not dumping me?"

"What I'm saying is that I won't be going out with you any more. I do care for you, but that's all it is for me. I need more. You are simply the wrong person for me."

"I'm not good enough for you, is that it?"

"Wrong again. It's not you, it's me. I can't give you what I don't have. You deserve someone who could maybe fall in love with you. I just don't have those feelings for you."

"Why not? What have I done wrong? I've done everything I can think of. Maybe it's just that you haven't given us enough time. If you stay with me I'll try harder, you'll learn to love me. Please."

"No. You've done everything right. It's just been with the wrong person. That's part of the reason I have to break off now, before it gets worse. I feel like I've been using you, leading you on, tempting you with something I don't have to give you. It hurts me."

"Is it ... is it another guy?"

"Still wrong. I'm not throwing you over for another guy. I don't do things like that. Try to understand, it's not your fault that I'll never have those feelings for you."

"Do I have a choice? No, I don't understand. All I know is that you're dumping me. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go home."

"Shut up and sit down. I told you I'm not dumping you. I also said that I had plans for you for this weekend."

"Make up your mind. Please. You're either dumping me or your not. Even if you're not, you've made it plain that you're not really interested in me. Why would I want to keep going out with you?"

"You wouldn't. I know that. Now listen, and don't interrupt. You are far too shy and sensitive a guy. Getting dumped is hard on anyone, but for you it's worse. You have a really hard time meeting nice people. That's why I'm giving you away to a friend of mine. No, don't interrupt. She is a very kind and gentle person, just like you, and also very shy and sensitive. I'm setting you both up for this weekend. Period. No, she doesn't know anything about this either. In fact, she should be here any minute, thinking she's here for a blind date. Just remember, if you reject her tonight, it will hurt her deeply. You have no idea how delicate she is inside."

"I don't like this. I feel like I'm being used. Why are you doing this to me?"

"Dave, I've been using you ever since we started going out. I'm trying to make myself feel better by setting you up with someone who could fall in love with you. Please. Just go through with this weekend. Anything after that is purely up to you. Just don't hurt her. She's a nice person. Here she comes now."

"Hi Betty. Hi Dave."

"Hi Rosie."

She slid into the bench opposite Dave and Betty.

"So, where's this dreamy guy you're supposed to be setting me up with. Do I know him?"

"Only a little. Rosie, meet Dave. Dave, Rosie."

"Betty, is this some kind of joke?"

"No Rosie. No joke. Now sit there and listen for a minute. Dave and I just broke up. I knew about it a week ago, he just found out. I don't want to just dump him, he's too nice a guy for that. I want to give him to you."

"What kind of nonsense it this? You just broke up? And you don't just give someone away!"

"True. Let's just say I want to give him a chance to get to know you. He's going to be hurting real bad for the next while, and needs someone who understands that kind of pain. You've been through this before, so you know what it's like. If you say no right now, you know you'll always regret it."

Rosie sat there for a while, thinking. It was difficult to tell from her expression what was going on inside. "What if I say yes. What happens?"

"You'll spend most of this weekend together. That's it. Anything else is up to you. Rosie, Dave is one of the sweetest, kindest, most romantic guys I've ever met. He's just not the guy for me. If you treat him gently but firmly, and don't pull all that shy stuff you usually do, you just might end up with the kind of boyfriend you've always dreamed of having."

"All right, as a favor to you, I'll do it. But only if Dave agrees. Dave?"

He was blushing a nice shade of pink, listening to this frank discussion of himself, the two girls going on as though he wasn't there. "Yes."

"Good. That's settled. Now here's your itinerary for the weekend. And don't either of you skip out on any of it. If you do, I'll know and I'll be mad."

"First, dinner here, now. Saturday morning, you two take a walk along beach drive, the whole thing. Lunch on the river front. An afternoon matinee, then dinner at Juliette's restaurant."

"Sunday you'll go to the zoo for the whole afternoon. Dinner will be at Dominique's. Take your time and enjoy the meal. Now I'm outta here. Just remember, you both promised me you'd do this."

With that, she just stood up and walked out, leaving them alone. She really hoped they'd do as promised, because they would be good for each other. There was some pain and a feeling of loss because of Dave, but not as much as she'd feared. It was manageable. She might not even cry.

<<End of chapter 5>>

Next chapter <<present>> The Manager, Woody, Woody and Joyce <<past>> Going steady & buying a negligee, the seduction,
the seduction part two

Author's note:

All of the food and drink described in this story are real. I or my friends have had each of them on more than one occasion. Check out one of Pol Martin's recipe books if you're interested. Some of the creations are his.

Dave and Rosie did follow the weekend plan. It was three long weeks before he called Rosie to ask her out on a real date. As of this writing, the two are still together. They have a six month old daughter named Belinda Elizabeth (Beebee for short), and are planning on getting married after they graduate from college next year. Yes, her middle name was in honor of the person who got them together.

public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email "To Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Path: bull.hkstar.net!news1.hk.linkage.net!hk.linkage.net!hpg30a.csc.cuhk.hk!news.cuhk.edu.hk!news.glink.net.hk!uunet!in3.uu.net!iglou!stbush From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (6/8) X-Sender: stbush@iglou X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.93.960823080305.3329G-100000@iglou> Sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator) Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Fri, 23 Aug 1996 12:03:40 GMT Lines: 744

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 6 of 8

Disclamer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>> The Manager, Woody, Woody and Joyce <<past>> Going steady & buying a negligee, the seduction,
the seduction part two

<<present>>

When they were getting close to Stacy's, she told Betty that they would have to stop in and talk to the manager of the apartment complex first. It wasn't a problem with Betty staying over, but a rule that the manager had imposed years ago, and strictly enforced, was that if anyone renting or staying in any of the apartments had any type of potential family or legal problems, ones that might cause difficulties in the buildings, it had to be reported immediately. Stacy had heard of several evictions because of people not reporting problems, but had never heard of anyone being evicted because of problems they had reported.

"You'll like her. Don't let her manner fool you, she's a nice lady and cares a lot about 'her place', which includes everyone living here."

The manager turned out to be a big woman. At 5'10" she was almost as tall as Stacy, but the exact opposite in build. Stacy was slender, almost skinny, lucky to top 125 pounds with her clothes on. Mrs. Jacobs (nobody had heard anything about a Mr. Jacobs) was stout, heavily muscled, and big all over. She looked like she could hoist Betty and Stacy over one shoulder and hardly notice it, and since she was well over 250 pounds and worked out in the weight room a lot, she probably could. Her hair was dark, laced with grey, pulled back into a severe bun, and her face was heavy and thick. She looked like your prototypical Russian factory worker.

"So, you're havin' troubles with daddy, eh?" This was after Stacy had gone over the situation. They were sitting in the office, which was attached to Mrs. Jacobs' apartment, sitting uncomfortably in those standardized waiting chairs nobody ever liked. Mrs. Jacobs was sitting in her plush chair behind the desk, of course.

"You movin' in permanent like, or part time?"

"We're not sure yet," explained Stacy. "She's moving in for at least a few days, until I can convince her to move in full time."

"Har har!" She let loose with a couple of guffaws, startling Betty. "Don't look like it'll take much convincin'. You two's is the likeliest couple o' roomies I ever seen, an' I seen a few. I got no problem with you bein' here as long as you want. Problem is, rules is rules."

"Number one. Two in the apartment full time, rent goes up twenty bucks. No big deal, it covers extra wear'n tear. More'n two weeks is full time."

"Number two. Papa. He don't get into that apartment no how, no way. If you lets him in, you're out. Period."

"Number three. Papa again. He wants in, you call here first. Immediately. If'n I ain't here, call Woody, the fix-up-man. If he ain't here, call security. Here's their card. You can see him if you want, but only here in my office, with one of us as witness. It's amazin' how civil peoples gets when there's witnesses. If'n you don't want ta see him, say so. We'll tell 'im to take a hike."

"Number four. You tells me if there's changes, like more shit, or you make up or sumthin'."

"Now, these rules sounds weird, yeah, but they works. I ain't had a single busted room or busted head from people what follows 'em. It makes livin' here a helluva lot easier 'n safer, not havin' ta worry about Papa or whomever showin' up whenever. What you does outside o' my place ain't my business. But if'n you thinks he might be waitin' outside, call. I'll fix him up good."

"Now, if you kin follow the rules, you're welcome, otherwise, you go elsewhere. Any problems?"

Betty tried to summarize. "So, basically, if dad shows up here, I can meet him here, or not. My choice. Either way, I call you. Until we've patched things up, he's not allowed anywhere in the complex except this office, and there has to be a witness at all times. Is that about it?"

"You got it. Us witnesses is real discreet too. We don't say nuthin' to no-one. You kin say anythin' you want, and we only remembers it in court. If we hafta."

"I think I can handle that. If not, I leave, or Stacy gets the boot. Sounds a little harsh, but okay."

"Good. Sounds like you need someplace safe for a bit, an' my place is the safest. If you two gonna be roomies, remember ta come down and do the paperwork. Makes my life easier. Have fun."

Stacy and Betty left the office, heading for Stacy's. Before they got to the elevator, they were interrupted.

<<past>>

Stacy and Betty dated frequently over the next several months, usually in public, but never overtly showing the attraction they were developing for each other. They had one dessert at Annabella's, and Betty talked Robert and Jordan into treating the two of them to a fancy dinner at Dominique's. She introduced Stacy to Joyce, and they had a few lunches and dinners as a threesome. During all that time, they never had another serious talk like they'd had a month after Christmas. Betty wouldn't let it happen.

To keep up appearances, Betty also stayed active in the dating circles at school. She didn't let any of the guys get past second base though. It didn't feel right, as though she would be cheating on Stacy. Strange.

It was early April when Betty decided to push their relationship a lot farther. She was happy with the way it was developing, and was having a lot of fun, but, with the lack of intimacy for the last few months, she was feeling very needy. Time to test the waters, as it were.

She took her chance when the two of them were out shopping on a Saturday. Going into the lingerie section of a department store, she found what she wanted - an unwitting target (a salesman). She dragged the poor guy over to the negligees and started going through every item in stock, working her way from the 'granny-gowns' to the most revealing, most diaphanous, come-get-me wisps of fabric. She flirted and teased, showing no mercy, asking his opinion on each one as she held it up in front of her and struck suggestive poses. Some of the better ones she even offered to try on, if he really wanted her too. The poor sap was married and tried really hard to keep his composure and his job.

Finally relenting, she bought one of the sexier outfits. On their way out she called him a sweetie and gave him a peck on the cheek. Stacy was standing on the sidelines through all this, alternately blushing and trying to keep from laughing out loud. She couldn't believe Betty.

"What were you doing in there? That poor guy's gonna have a hard-on for a week!"

"It was fun! Serves him right, working in the lingerie department. Besides, his wife might appreciate getting some extra attention tonight. He's sure not gonna forget me in a hurry."

"No he isn't. I've never been so embarrassed in my life, and I was only a spectator! You're shameless!"

"You're learnin'. I can't wait to try this on! Let's go."

"Back to your place?"

"No, your place. I couldn't wear this at home! Dad would have a heart attack! Maybe even for real, if it looks as good on me as it does on the hanger."

"My place?" Stacy gave Betty a strange look. "Are you sure?"

"Yep. Let's do it right, though. You go get us some wine, and I'll pick up something for lunch. We'll have a picnic in your front room."

Stacy was learning, slowly, that when Betty was in a mood like this, she was after something. God only knows what, because she never gave any clues, but something. Stacy never could read Betty. It would be Betty's first time in Stacy's apartment. This made the older girl nervous and, though she'd never admit it, excited. She'd certainly never let Betty know that the show she just saw made her hornier than she'd been in months. It was almost painful, especially with Betty and her delicious body standing so close, yet being so untouchable.

Suspecting that Betty wanted this to be a 'special' day, Stacy picked up a better wine than she normally would, wincing at the cost. Betty picked up some fresh kaisers, cheeses, crackers, sliced meats, and pickles. They met back at the car and headed for Stacy's.

The trip there was a bit subdued. Betty tried to keep the conversation going, and on a light tone, but Stacy was nervous. There was some obvious tension in the car.

When the two girls finally arrived, they set out the food and wine on the coffee table, adding in the condiments they liked. After the obligatory tour of the place, with the usual 'excuse the mess' nonsense, it was time for lunch. Sitting on the floor on opposite sides of the table, enjoying the food and wine, they did little talking.

After the food was done, Stacy poured them each another glass of wine.

"It's time to see what this thing looks like." Betty picked up her package and headed for the bedroom. On the way, she bent over and gave Stacy a nice, soft, warm kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?"

Betty replied as she was closing the door to the bedroom. "Revenge. I've been haunted by that smooch Anastasia gave me for a year now."

Stacy could feel the imprint of those lips burning into her cheek.

<<present>>

"Stacy, baby, how ya doin'?" This guy, this gorgeous hunk, came walking up behind them. Before Betty realized what was happening, he'd wrapped one arm around her and one arm around Stacy, and proceeded to give Stacy a nice warm smooch on the lips. It looked like she didn't mind a bit. In fact, it looked like she was enjoying it. A lot. Then the guy turned and kissed Betty, lightly, on the forehead.

"Hi Woody. Not bad."

Woody was the kind of guy wet dreams are made of. (Remember him? from several chapters ago?) Around 6'4", muscular and well-built without being heavy, dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and soft lips curled up into a permanent smile. He looked mediterranean, possibly greek, but with a finely chiseled profile. His age was hard to guess, but he looked like he'd be in his late twenties.

"So who's this gorgeous lady you're sneaking in here? Not trying to pull a fast one on me, are you?" This was only the second time Betty and Woody had seen each other, the last time being in Betty's place close to two years ago.

"Woody, nobody has ever managed to sneak anything past you. This is Elizabeth, Betty to her friends. She's going to be staying with me for a while. She may have some trouble with her father though. We've spoken with Mrs. Jacobs already, so she can fill you in on the details. How come you're still out and about this time of night?"

"Oh, just shutting down a party in the west block. They were a bit rowdy. The usual. So, Betty, if you're going to be here a while, you'll have to come over to my place to get better acquainted. Right, Stacy?"

"Oh, of course. Maybe next week some time."

"Its a date. Anyway, I've got to run. See you later."

He gave Betty a peck on the cheek, and Stacy another real kiss, then sauntered off down the hall, towards the office.

Betty finally found her voice again. "What just happened?"

"That's Woody. He's just about the dreamiest hunk on the planet."

"But he was kissing you. I mean really kissing you. I remember him kissing you just like that at my place, when we first met. Is there something going on I should know about?"

"Nah. Once he's seen you three or four times, you'll get the same treatment. He's kissed almost every girl in the complex, just to say hi. And he kisses wonderfully. There are a few ladies, like me, that he pays special attention to, but it doesn't seem to be looks or age that attracts him. Hell, when I first got here, I made it perfectly clear that I wasn't interested in him. He knows that. I think he just likes flirting, especially when he feels safe doing it. It's kind of complicated to explain, but he's perfectly safe to be around."

"All right, explain away. I'm jealous and I want to know what's going on."

"You sure you want to hear all this right now?" Betty nodded.

"All right, you asked for it. Like I said, Woody is one of the dreamiest hunks on the planet. You can see that for yourself. Not only is he gorgeous, but he's a great kisser and a really nice guy. He flirts and kisses with every woman in the complex, except for a couple of real man-haters. He's not picky either. He gives the same treatment to everyone, regardless of age or looks. One of the older ladies upstairs almost faints anytime Woody shows up."

"Now, you've received a standing invitation to go to his place, so you two can get 'better acquainted'. As far as I can tell, that's all that ever happens in his place. He's never done anything other than talk to or kiss any woman who's gone there. A few have claimed more, but they were famous liars. He's not married, or at least he acts like he's not. He's never accepted any offers from any woman in the place. And before you ask, he's never accepted any offers from any of the guys in the place either."

"This is the strange part. He has his own apartment here, and he keeps it up. He does his own cooking and cleaning and all that stuff, but he never sleeps there. He always sleeps with Mrs. Jacobs. In the morning he goes back to his place for breakfast. It's weird. He's not Mr. Jacobs, we know that. Neither one of them have ever admitted to sleeping together either, but they've never hidden it from anyone. She's never said anything about what he does in public, even when he does it right in front of her. Hell, he gives her the same treatment! You've met Mrs. Jacobs. Can you picture the two of them as a couple?"

Betty had to laugh at the picture. She could see Woody gracing the pages of Playgirl or Cosmo. See them as a couple? It seemed ludicrous.

"Stace, Woody looks like he could probably pick any woman he wanted. Christ, he could probably pick three or four and they'd all go for it. What's he doing with Mrs. Jacobs?"

"Well, Betty, there's at least a dozen different ladies here, all chasing after Woody, wanting to know the answer to that question. If you find out, you could probably make a bundle."

By this time, they were at Stacy's door. Unlocking it and ushering Betty inside, she locked it again behind her. Turning around, she was hit with a big kiss.

<<past>>

Betty spent a long time in the bedroom, looking things over, changing slowly. She was trying to absorb the feeling of this room, Stacy's most private sanctuary. It was quite feminine, as expected, but also a little messy. Not dirty, but with things left lying around. There were two pictures on the wall, one of an older man, one of an older woman. She assumed they were Stacy's parents. The centerpiece of the room, what gave it character, were the crossed ostrich feathers on the wall over the queen-sized bed.

Stacy probably expected her to model this risque and revealing negligee while wearing her bra and panties. She was in for a real surprise. This situation was what Betty had been hoping for, a way to get Stacy cornered, relaxed, and horny. That act in the store had been very embarrassing, but it had also been exciting and quite a turn-on. It would have been worth it if it got Stacy as worked up as she was.

This was it. She could chicken out or go through with her plan. The scared part of her said she was making a big mistake, forget it. The other part was more insistent - 'If you don't go through with this now, you may never have the courage to do it again. It's a question of what you want. Do you want Stacy as a friend, or as a lover. Are you having second thoughts on that choice you made a year ago?'

Finally she was ready. Opening the door, she stood back out of sight for a few seconds, just to build a little suspense. Stepping into view, she leaned against the doorway, one hand stretched up over her head, looking very seductive and sultry. She was feeling nervous, excited, and sexy. She couldn't help it, knowing she looked real hot. Knowing Stacy would think she was hot.

Stacy, sitting on the couch, looked over her shoulder when the door opened. She watched Betty step out into the doorway and stared. Her mouth went dry, her nipples got tight, and her pussy tingled. It had been a long time since her last bedmate, and the sight before her was like an oasis after a month lost in the desert.

Betty looked warm, tender, and juicy. Now standing 5'6", she'd grown a little since last year. Her breasts were now a large B or small C. Her hips had widened a little, giving her a more pronounced figure. The little bit of baby fat she'd still had was now gone. She was still slender, but had more of a model's figure than a girl's. Her face, framed by her long, chestnut brown hair, was beautiful. An elfin face, delicate, fine-boned, with large, expressive, light-brown eyes, skin lightly tanned, mouth small, with pouting red lips slightly parted, now soft and moist.

All she wore was her slight smile, a touch of makeup, and the nightgown. And barely that. It was a soft, powder-blue colour, mostly transparent, with two shoulder straps to hold it up. The straps widened out into enough fabric to cover her breasts, but was so sheer you could not only see her nipples, you could just make out the lighter patches of her bikini tan. The neckline was modest, but the back was not. It left a bare expanse of flesh ending in a point just at the small of her back. It was cut to accentuate the length of her arms, legs, and neck, making her appear taller and even more willowy than she already was. The hemline, if you could call it that, was set three or four inches below the bottom of her crotch, and was flared, giving it a distinct ripple and bounce when she walked. Any skin touching the fabric showed through clearly, and that was a lot of skin. You could even see a shadowy patch at the V of her legs.

Betty sashayed into the room, swinging her hips a little, showing glimpses of thigh and ass with each movement. Walking to the center of the room, the brunette turned to present front, back, and both profiles, to Stacy.

Raising her arms above her head, and giving a final pirouette to complete her display, pulled up the nightgown, with the twirl causing the hem to flair and rise. Stacy gasped at this display of flesh. She could see the bottom of Betty's ass, her thighs, and her complete pussy, shaved bare except for a small triangle of hair at the top of her mound. She almost whined. This beautiful temptation in front of her was just about too much to bear. It had been soooo long.

Betty watched and saw the effect she was having on the older girl. There was no denying the desire and the arousal. There was a flush on her chest, rising to her neck, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. One hand was unconsciously moving towards her crotch, and the other was hugging her breasts. That was an erotic sight.

She herself was getting more excited, especially with the illicit thrill of displaying herself wantonly to another woman. Her nipples were like small stones, and she could feel the heat and damp radiating from her pussy. God, she was horny.

"Well, what do you think? Will it drive 'em wild?"

Stacy took a deep breath, then tightened and loosened her entire body.

"Looking like that, you'll drive all of 'em wild, whomever those lucky folks are. You are guaranteed to turn on anyone you show that to."

"Thank you. I thought it looked pretty good."

"I think what's in it makes it look good."

Betty took a gulp of her wine.

<<present>>

"Mmmmm. Nice. I've missed you a lot."

Betty had to ask. "How much did you miss me?"

"Let's just say bathtime wasn't the same, and it was very hard to get to sleep. I know it wasn't much different than before, but not knowing if I'd see you again made me really miss those times we did have. God, this sounds like a dimestore novel, but it's true. I love you, Little Blossom, and don't ever want to lose you." "Well, Stace, now that you've admitted it, you're stuck with me. They'd hafta chain me up and drag me away. I love you, and I'm not going to leave you. Period."

"Mmmm" They shared another kiss. "Lets go have a shower and make up for lost time. Then lets go to bed and show each other how happy we are to be together."

"Now I know you've been reading too many of those cheesy novels, but it sounds like fun. I'm really tired, but a shower and cuddling would be wonderful."

"We'd better see to your face, too. It doesn't look nearly as bad as it did, but some ointment for the sting and the swelling couldn't hurt. C'mon, let's go get wet."

<<past>>

"Do you really think it makes me look sexy?"

"Betty, it makes you look irresistible."

"Thank you."

She struck a few more seductive poses for Stacy while moving around the room. Topping up Stacy's wineglass, she handed it to her. Taking her own glass, she drained it and put it back on the table.

Sitting on the couch beside the older girl, Betty turned and lay down, putting her head in Stacy's lap. Sighing, she shut her eyes and stretched her arms out over her head.

Lying like that, her eyes closed, just resting for a while, she was very much aware of the feel of Stacy's body, her thighs and belly touching her through their clothes, the warmth feeling good. There was also a lot of tension in them both, something she was hoping the extra wine would help with. She was sure Stacy could feel the hammering of her heart.

"Betty, what are you doing?"

She ignored that question and just lay there, doing and saying nothing. Even without looking, she knew Stacy was devouring her with her eyes. She could feel it, from her toes to her scalp, but especially on her breasts and bared pussy. Finally Stacy's arm, the one not holding the wine glass, touched, and then rested on, her middle. It was carefully placed, arm running up and across, and hand curling around to hold the other side, seemingly by accident, not touching anything that could be considered private. It was an electric touch, the first one Betty considered truly sexual from the older girl. She could now smell the arousal emanating from Stacy's pussy, right through her jeans.

That arm and hand, at first tentative, finally relaxed when there was no sign of resistance or refusal. Eventually the hand even started very light, slow, almost unnoticeable caresses of her skin.

Betty was trying to figure out why Stacy, being the experienced older woman, was being so slow and shy touching this body being thrust so shamelessly at her. Was she afraid? Was she hiding something? Time to find out what she wanted to know.

"Anastasia, why haven't you taken another lover? You've had lots of opportunities, and lots of offers."

She heard Stacy sigh, and felt her take a gulp of her wine.

"Elizabeth, you are a most difficult person to deal with. I thought I knew what you were planning, what you were after, and then you come out with something like today and a question like that."

Neither spoke for a minute, Stacy lost in thought, Betty waiting for an answer.

"Anastasia, I asked you before, months ago, and you wouldn't tell me. Now I'm asking again. Why haven't you taken another lover?"

Another sigh, and another gulp of wine.

"It's a very difficult, very personal question. I don't know if I should answer it or not. Especially to you. But, I think you deserve an explanation."

"When you and I split, oh-so-long-ago, you shook up my nice little self. I'd had no idea what I was doing to myself and my lovers. It was rare for me to stick with one for more than a few months, because none of them could satisfy me completely, either physically or as an intimate friend. After your speech, I knew there was an explanation. It was the fact that I picked lovers for one reason or another, never getting one that was just right. Either I was impatient or was looking for the wrong thing at the wrong time. Ever since, I've been looking very carefully at anyone making an approach, feeling how both my body and my heart responded, and checking to see if they had any real feelings for me. None met those standards."

"Did you really give any of them a chance?"

"Two, for a time. I dated each of them for a month before deciding they just weren't right for me. It has been difficult."

Betty knew that Stacy was still being evasive, hiding something. The answer she gave didn't match the nervousness of her voice, or the quivering in her stomach.

"I'm sure some of them were really nice. Why weren't they good enough for you?"

Stacy squirmed a bit, seemingly uncomfortable.

"That's not it at all. Some were genuinely good people. It just didn't seem right with any of them. The feelings I got weren't the ones I was looking for. All right?"

Betty let that hang in the air for a couple of minutes.

"Now what's the real reason?"

"Dammit Betty! I didn't want any of them because they weren't you! There! Are you satisfied? Have I humiliated myself enough yet?"

They sat there for a couple of minutes, Betty relaxing, Stacy visibly upset and embarrassed. Her tension was apparent in the taught muscles of her belly and thighs, and the rigid feel of her arm.

"I think I like that answer."

She could feel the tension drain out of Stacy. A few seconds later, that hand at her waist started it's slow caress again, filling her with a soft, warm glow. Smiling inwardly, she decided to ask the other question, the one that would determine if they had a future together.

"Anastasia?"

"Yes?"

"If we were lovers, would you ever cheat on me?"

That caressing hand stopped dead. There was a pause as Stacy collected her jaw from the floor.

"Am I supposed to answer that truthfully, or should I be giving you the standard line about me always being faithful and true. Because if you want a real answer, you're going to have to tell me what you mean by cheating."

"Cheating. It could be a physical relationship with another person. It could also be an intense emotional relationship with another person. In either case, it's usually without the partner's knowledge."

"If that's what you mean by cheating, no I would not cheat on you. I am a monogamous person. I was before, too, but only in the physical sense. You're pretty hard on a simple soul like myself, you know."

Her hand began it's massage again, only a little higher. Occasionally Betty could feel it brushing the bottom of her breast. Her nipples responded to this, tightening and lengthening noticeably. Not watching Stacy's eyes made it difficult to tell if she'd noticed or not. Betty would bet money that Stacy noticed.

She liked the answers Stacy gave. They had a ring of truth about them. Now she could relax and enjoy whatever happened. Picking up from the middle of Stacy's last sentence, she continued.

"I guess I am hard. And demanding. And inscrutable. And pushy. And devious. And pretty. And shameless. And sometimes without couth or tact." She took a deep breath and sighed. "And monogamous. And without a boyfriend. Or lover. Have I missed anything?"

"How about beautiful and sexy?"

"All right, I'll take those. Oh, one more. And horny."

"Shameless is right."

Now Stacy began a wonderful massage of Betty's breasts, fondling and stroking each in turn, brushing over the nipples, teasing them. At the first feathery touch on her nipple, Betty gasped. Delightful little shocks ran back and forth between her nipples and her groin.

"Anastasia?"

"Is this another question?"

"Yes."

"I'm beginning to dread these questions of yours, but okay, go ahead and ask."

"Weeeellll, I know I'm a beginner at this, but aren't you supposed to kiss me right about now?"

"Is this what you really want?"

"I think so. I won't know for sure until afterwards, but I need to try."

It took some time, but eventually Betty felt the faintest of touches on her lips.

<<present>>

The next morning, around eleven, Joyce buzzed up. Betty was still getting ready, so Stacy let her in. After the hello's and a few last minute touch-ups, everyone was ready to go. When they got off the elevator, Woody found them again.

"Stacy, Betty, how'ya doin?" He wrapped an arm around each of them, and gave Stacy a nice smooch on the lips. He was about to give Betty a peck on her cheek when she turned and met him lip to lip. He *was* a very good kisser. When he finished, she felt a little light- headed, and kind of fuzzy all over. Then he spotted Joyce.

"Joyce, cupcake, you're back!" He picked her up in a warm embrace. They kissed for what seemed like hours, with Joyce's arms wrapped around Woody's neck. Betty was more than a little shocked at this. Then again, so was Stacy.

Finally, pulling back, Joyce spoke. "Woody, you nasty tease you. Here you are, getting me all worked up, and you're not going to do a damn thing about it, are you. You're a horrid bastard." She said the last with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

"That's me all right." Then, in a loud, conspiratorial whisper that everyone could hear, "Next time, make sure there aren't any witnesses, and I'll give you a real kiss." With that, he gave her a peck on the nose and walked off, whistling to himself.

Betty couldn't help herself. "Well Joyce, what gives? That certainly didn't seem like the Woody I heard about. You apparently know him better than Stacy does!"

"Yeah, Joyce. I've seen him kiss like that a few times, but only with long-timers, people he's known for ages. He's certainly never kissed me like that, and I've known him for over two years! Time to come clean and let us in on the dirt. What's the scoop?"

Joyce let out a little "hrmph" as she straightened out her clothes and hair. "Can't a girl have any secrets?" After receiving two hard stares, she decided to come clean. "Actually, this is the second time we've met. The first time was earlier in the week when I came up to meet you, Stacy. He met me at the front entrance and guided me to your door. Then he snuck in a smooch on my cheek as he was turning to go."

"I wasn't going to let him get away with that! I grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. I know, I know. If he'd wanted to get away, he could have just kept walking. He turned around with a sheepish grin on his face, looking like he was about to apologize. I cut him off."

"'Look mister, I don't know what sort of stunts you're used to pulling around here, but I'm not going to let you get away with that. No way! You don't just grab a little smooch and run off, not with me anyway. If you want a kiss, you damn well better do it right, or you're in big trouble.' I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down to my level. Oooo, can that man kiss. My toes were curling! Hey, don't look at me like that. I don't get many of those at my age. I'll take anything I can get." With that, she threw her head back a bit, blushed (believe it or not), and headed for the door.

Betty and Stacy looked at each other and grinned. Still smiling, they followed Joyce out the door.

<<End of chapter 6>>

Next chapter <<present>> Shopping and finances, modelling clothes <<past>> Betty's fulfillment, Stacy's turn the next morning

Author's Note:

I know, I know. 'Couth' isn't a real word, at least not in the spellchecker or any of my dictionaries. People do use it. Of course, I couldn't find 'neato' either.

public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email "To Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Path: bull.hkstar.net!news1.hk.linkage.net!hk.linkage.net!hpg30a.csc.cuhk.hk!news.cuhk.edu.hk!news.glink.net.hk!uunet!in3.uu.net!iglou!stbush From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (7/8) X-Sender: stbush@iglou X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.93.960823080402.3329H-100000@iglou> Sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator) Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Fri, 23 Aug 1996 12:04:38 GMT Lines: 644

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 7 of 8

Disclamer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>> Shopping and finances, modelling clothes <<past>> Betty's fulfillment, Stacy's turn the next morning

<<past>>

After that faintest of feathery touches, Betty could feel the other girl's breath, light and warm, on her lips and face. She could smell the wine, and the hint of sweetness from Stacy herself. Opening her lips slightly, she began to breathe deeply and evenly. Once again those lips touched hers, slightly firmer, but still oh-so-soft. A tiny tingle ran from her lips down to the bottom of her spine, settling there.

She moved then, causing Stacy to tense up and move her head back. Betty moved farther up, lying across Stacy's lap, with her head now resting on the cushions heaped at the end of the couch. Wanting to reassure her, make her know this is what she wanted, she placed her right hand over her head and moved her other hand behind Stacy, slowly massaging her back. Wiggling a bit to get more comfortable, she put a little more pressure into her back rub to encourage Stacy to resume her efforts.

A third time those lips touched hers, but this time they stayed, tasting, caressing, and nibbling her lips, first one, then the other, not content with sitting still, but moving slowly and teasingly around.

Stacy's tongue joined her lips in tasting Betty's mouth. She felt like one of Annabella's new desserts, one being enjoyed for the first time, something to be savored slowly and fully.

Those lips began to roam around on her face and neck, going slowly, kissing and licking everything, eyes, ears, chin, cheek. She opened her eyes a little, wanting to watch what was happening, not wanting to miss out any of this, her first time. She felt like a virgin again, except she was giving it to someone special, and knew it would be a wonderful experience. Those lips, that tongue, and that hand were all generating their own little sensations, tiny tingles that moved through her from toes to scalp to fingertip, finally settling in her groin. It was the first time Betty thought she might cum without anything touching her pussy.

Again those lips returned to hers, teasing, tantalizing, not satisfying her growing passion. When her tongue moved to join that other, it moved away, allowing only a brief contact, but letting her touch and taste those other lips.

During this time Stacy's hand was not idle. Gradually she had increased the pressure of her fingers, spreading them, until her hand and palm were massaging Betty's breasts, especially those tight, hard nipples.

It was delicious how this felt, every touch and movement creating little highs, building up steadily in her pussy. Her breath was still deep, but faster, more insistent. This was broken into a gasp, then short panting breaths when Stacy started pinching and pulling at her nipples.

"Ohhhh ... that feels so ... goooood!"

Betty squeezed her thighs together, feeling her need growing inside. She was hot and moist, ready for anything, wanting to cum. Stacy wasn't letting her. She knew she was close, she was building up, but she needed more.

Finally Stacy kissed her, fully, open mouth, tongue extended, hard and passionately. Wrapping her arms around the blonde, she kissed back just as hard, sucking and licking the other tongue like she would a cock. Now Stacy moaned.

They kept at it like this for another few minutes, feverishly working tongue and lip, expressing their desire for each other, building up the tension and excitement. Finally Betty pushed Stacy's hand off her breasts and down towards her pussy, spreading her legs as wide as they would go. Her groin was now almost aching with the build-up and she couldn't stand waiting any longer.

When Stacy's hand finally reached it's goal, she still teased and tantalized - the blonde was taking her time. Placing one finger on each side of her pussy, that hand gently traced the outside of her crack from the top of her mound down to the bottom of her cheeks, repeating this motion several times. Betty finally whimpered with frustration, grabbing Stacy's hand and mashing it into her own twat. Breaking their kiss for a second, she whispered "Come on!"

Quickly the blonde lubricated her fingers in Betty's steaming snatch. She was sopping wet inside, so this didn't take much time. Sliding one finger inside, then a second, she began pumping slowly, grinding the heel of her thumb in where she thought the brunette's clit would be. Betty repositioned the blonde's hand to hit her pleasure spots.

It felt wonderful, those long fingers pumping into her, wiggling inside, her clit massaged through her pussy lips, mouth and face being attacked by Stacy's lips and tongue. Her heart was now pounding with the excitement of finally being with another woman, with Stacy. Hardly believing it to be real, she could still feel her orgasm building, slowly moving outward from deep within her groin. Impatiently she waited for it, wanting it, needing it desperately. Putting all her desire and lust into her kisses of the blonde's mouth, face, neck, and whatever else was offered, she began to roll her hips, trying to get Stacy to go faster and deeper.

And she did, pumping those fingers deep and hard, mashing the brunette's crack and clit on every in-stroke, driving Betty quickly to the edge and over.

She came hard, with her entire body tensing up for several seconds, holding off her big release as long as possible before coming down off that plateau of intense pleasure. With a rush of air, she released her body into the rest of her orgasm, pleasant sensations running all over and inside her, centered on her twat. Stacy slowed a little with her fingers when she saw Betty cum, but didn't quit until Betty reached down and stopped her movements, pushing her friend's hand into her pussy and closing her thighs to keep it there, with two fingers buried deep in her vagina. It felt ... nice, like Dave's cock, when he stayed inside her, waiting for her to recover before starting again.

Betty lay there for a few minutes, recovering her breath and some of her strength, squeezing her thighs whenever she felt Stacy's hand moving, not wanting to let it go.

It wasn't over yet. That hand in her pussy started moving again, a slow rocking rhythm, sliding just a tiny ways up and down her crack, rubbing between her lips, massaging her clit very softly. Both fingers in her hole were moving, a slow dance up and down, bending at the knuckles and twirling around in a circular motion. Betty whimpered a bit and clamped her thighs together tight, not really ready to go again this soon. She felt that knot inside of her still, but it was distant, pushed back by her recent physical release.

Stacy's mouth, which had been idly nibbling on the brunette's lips, traced a path down her neck to her breast, licking and nibbling a circle around it, through the fabric. Betty whined a bit more, unsure if she wanted to stop things or not. She hadn't yet recovered from her last orgasm, but it was starting to feel good again. Her body decided - she was too relaxed to fight. Letting her thighs fall open again, she went limp, giving Stacy tacit approval to do whatever she wanted.

Spiraling inwards, those lips finally reached her nipple, lightly teasing it through the fabric, lips and tongue just brushing it, moving away and circling around to tickle it again. Those little flickers were generating tiny jolts in her nipple, jolts being echoed deep in her groin.

Suddenly Betty gasped, her body arching and straining. Stacy had sucked almost half her tit into her mouth and was sucking and licking her nipple like a demon. She'd also resumed pounding that hand into Betty's twat, adding a third finger, driving them in deep and fast. She gasped again, and again, as that feeling in her groin returned full force. Almost without warning, she was in the middle of another full-blown orgasm, much stronger than the last one, head thrown back, thighs clenching, hips thrusting, pulling Stacy hard into her breast, pushing back, trying to force more of herself into Stacy's mouth. She hung there, hardly breathing, right at the peak, seemingly forever. There was no letup in the powerful waves of pleasure being created in her breast and her crotch, the blonde seemingly unwilling to allow her to slide down the other side of this peak, holding her there until she was almost ready to pass out.

When Stacy finally let up, it was over quickly. All her tension and need had been completely burned away, leaving nothing but a warm, very tired, all-over glow, and leaving Betty a limp and exhausted mass of flesh. When Stacy pulled her fingers out, Betty whimpered a bit, not liking that suddenly empty feeling. She did open her mouth to lick and suck those fingers clean, once she realized what was being offered. The flavor wasn't new to her, she'd tasted it before on her own fingers and on Dave's cock, but for some reason her juices seemed much sweeter while being sucked and licked off Stacy's hand.

She was tired, sweaty, and satiated, feeling properly fucked for the first time. The only thing she could compare this with was her best sessions with Dave. Even that match-up was a little lame, because he had never managed to push her into such an intense orgasm.

Stacy made her get up and move into the bedroom, where she stripped them both nude, put Betty under the covers and climbed in after her. Cuddling the brunette to her, holding her close, she let her friend fall asleep in that warm, soft, afterglow. In a while, Stacy also fell asleep.

<<present>>

They spent the rest of the day shopping, picking up several outfits, undergarments, toiletries, some makeup, and a few other essential items. Betty was upset at the amount of money being spent, and protested several times. It was worse when Joyce picked out a few things for Stacy. She finally put her foot down when Joyce went to transfer money into her bank account.

"Joyce, this is too much. I won't let you do it. I can make do without. I've got some of my own money, enough to last a while, anyway."

"Betty, weren't you listening last night? This isn't my money we're spending, it's yours. Your mother put the money aside just in case something like this happened. And before you protest any more, she can afford it. Besides, most of it came from your father as part of the divorce settlement. Think of the look on his face if he knew you were spending his money like this, and don't feel so guilty."

"You will need the cash, too. I expect you'll start splitting the rent with Stacy, easing some of the pressure on her checkbook, as well as sharing costs for utilities and food, and maybe even gas. Who knows, you might even get your license and want to drive somewhere. Trust me, a grand a month sounds like a lot, but it disappears fast. You're going to have to be very careful how you spend it, if you want it to last from month to month."

"But it still seems like a lot of money."

"Betty," Stacy interrupted, "trust me. You'll be glad of every penny. I'm getting by on twelve hundred a month right now from dad, but with having to pay all my own bills, and pay for gas, I'm falling behind a little bit every month. Without the savings I have, I'd have had to move home or find another part-time job. With dad paying for tuition, books, and the car and insurance, I couldn't ask for more from him."

"I guess, when you put it like that, it doesn't seem like all that much anymore."

"So, Joyce, you said Betty would be getting a grand per month?" Getting a nod, she carried on. "We'll work out a budget next week, and you can see how much it really costs to survive. Especially for food and rent."

"Good. I'm glad to see you've got some financial sense Stacy. Betty needs to learn from scratch apparently. Anyway, this will be your first installment, sort of a bonus. The next one will be on the twenty-fifth, and on that same date for some time to come. By the way, we're going shopping again next weekend. You'll have figured out what you need by then, and I know a girl can never have too many clothes. Now, now. Don't make faces! We're going, and that's final."

"All right, all right, I give up. When you're both ganging up on me I don't have a hope, do I. Besides, I'm getting tired and hungry. When's dinner? In fact, when was lunch?"

"Oops, I think we missed it somehow. Too busy shopping I guess. Lets pick up something on the way to your place, Stacy, my treat. Yes, with my own money this time. Chicken 'n fixin's okay? Whaddaya mean, watch your figures. Neither one of you has enough figure to worry about! You can afford one greasy meal. Now lets go."

That settled, they packed up and headed back, picking up some chicken. To Joyce's great disappointment, they never saw Woody on the way in.

<<past>>

Betty woke up slowly, enjoying that warm and fuzzy half-asleep state, tired, yet, on the whole, feeling very good. It took a minute to realize she wasn't alone in bed, and a little longer to notice it wasn't her bed and that she was with Stacy. When the memories of what had happened started coming back, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the replays in her mind, especially that second explosive climax.

Opening her eyes again, she saw she was lying up against Stacy's side and that the blonde was sound asleep. Grinning to herself, she decided a nice slow wakeup call would be in order.

Moving very slowly and cautiously, she slid down under the covers, continuing until she could get Stacy's nipple in her mouth. Moistening her lips and forming an 'O', she surrounded the nipple without touching it, and began a slow gentle suck, taking it in, then releasing, pausing for a second between each cycle.

Checking first to see if Stacy showed any signs of waking up, she moved one hand down to her friend's pussy. There was very little hair there, only a mohawk left in the middle of her mound. Using the ends of her fingers, she began a slow circular rub on top of the other's crack, as far between those thighs as could be reached with the legs closed. She matched her hand's rhythm to that of her mouth.

After several minutes of this, Stacy was beginning to breathe a little more deeply, and her thighs opened a bit, reacting automatically to the stimulation. Betty took advantage of this by ever-so-slowly moving her hand farther in with each rotation. She could feel the softness under her fingers where Stacy's vaginal opening was. Now she was massaging with the full length of her fingers and palm, covering almost all of the girl's pussy. Her rhythm hadn't changed.

Betty was warm, relaxed, and comfortable. She decided she liked the feel of Stacy's near-naked pussy. It wasn't the same as a cock, but it was just as warm and silky, and much softer underneath.

Stacy took a deep breath, moved around a bit, then settled down again. Her breathing was a little faster now, not as deep as before. It was hard to tell if she was really asleep, or in that half-way stage, where everything was still rather dreamlike. Her body knew what was happening, though, and was reacting regardless.

There was moisture now under Betty's hand, she could feel it working it's way up through the folds of skin, which were now warm and puffy. Extending her middle finger, she began to work it down into the blonde's crack, slowly of course, still circling in sync with the suction on Stacy's nipple.

When her finger was fully engulfed in those warm wet lips, she began to move her hand farther down again, this time working her finger into Stacy's hole. At the first, slight penetration, Stacy let out a small gasp, then continued with shorter, faster, breaths. Every few exhales she let out a tiny whimper. When Betty's finger was all the way in, she settled into her rhythm again, massaging that pussy with her hand, rolling her finger around in that wonderfully warm, soft, wet, clinging tunnel, waiting to see if Stacy would wake up before she climaxed.

It was close. "Uh? Whaa? Ooooooo. Whadyadoin ... oh, don't stop, that's nice, yes, oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhh!"

As Stacy woke up, Betty began working her in ernest, sucking hard on her breast and nipple, licking it, gently nipping at it with her lips and teeth. At the same time, she began to pump her finger in and out of Stacy's tunnel, rocking her hand up and down the length of her crack, rubbing hard and fast.

Another minute or two of this and Stacy let out a series of mewling cries, then gasped and went rigid for a second as her orgasm hit. Panting heavily, she grabbed onto the sheets for support, her body now writhing around out of her control, still being driven on by Betty's mouth and fingers.

One final "Ahhhhhhhhhhh" signalled the end, and Betty stopped, letting the nipple pop out of her mouth, but leaving her hand and finger in place. Both lay there for several minutes, Stacy recovering, Betty relaxing, listening to and feeling Stacy's return. She could feel her finger being grabbed and released each time her friend gave a slight shiver. It felt ... different.

"You rotter you."

"Whaaaat? Me?"

"Yes you! I was kinda hoping to be awake for my first time with you!"

"Well, you were, sorta."

"Yeah, just sorta long enough to enjoy the aftermath."

After a few more deep breaths, she continued.

"Thank you. It was nice. I needed it, especially after you were parading around in that near-nothing outfit, and then falling asleep on me! I mean really, is that the polite thing to do? Oooooooh."

Betty had started her slow massage of Stacy's twat again.

"Hmmm. Let's see. Near-nothing outfit. I distinctly remember your eyes popping out of their sockets, drool coming out of your mouth, and your tongue hitting the floor when you saw me in that thing. I thought you liked it. Maybe I was wrong. And then falling asleep on you? As if I had a choice in the matter with what you did to me. Besides, I'm a guest here. And it's not very polite for a hostess to fall asleep on a guest. As for what I'm doing, since I'm a beginner at this, I thought I'd sneak in a little practice while you weren't looking, as it were. If that's not okay, should I stop? Or is it okay?"

"Nnnnnnng, no! I mean yes! Oh, just don't stop, please, it feels so gooood."

"You mean, it's okay if I keep practicing?"

"Uuhhh, yes. Yes ... please."

"Okay, you asked for it. I know you've done this lots, and I'm a real amateur, so don't mind me if I make lots of mistakes. I'll get better with practice. And I'm planning on getting a lot of practice."

With that, she wriggled her way down to Stacy's snatch, pushing the covers ahead of her, keeping her finger rotating in that warm, soft hole.

This was Betty's first look as Stacy's pussy. In fact, it was her first good look at anybody's adult pussy. It looked neat and tidy, carefully shaved, with only a vertical stripe of hair just above the top of her slit. Right now, it was wet and glistening, with her juices coating her from her mound right 'round to her cheeks and from thigh to thigh. Her lips were red and engorged, spread wide, showing everything. That little nubbin down there hiding under a flap of skin must be her clit, and Betty could actually see her finger disappearing into and coming out of Stacy's hole. Leaning over a little, she could see the small, puckered anal sphincter, and wet spots on the bed where some juices had dribbled.

Now for the hard part. Despite her bravado and casual words, she'd never licked another pussy before, and wasn't sure she could do it. The fingering was easy - it was just like jacking off, except she couldn't feel what was happening. But getting in there to kiss and suck and taste, that was a big step. She'd seen it on video and in pictures, and read about it in stories, but this was different. Could she? Well, if Dave could learn to do it with her (and he had, and practiced lots too) she could learn to do it with Stacy. At least it didn't smell bad like she'd been afraid of, like some of the stories had described. It was a light, musty sort of smell, not unpleasant, overlaid with the stronger smell of sex.

"It's all right, don't rush things. If you're not ready for this, don't force yourself. It's not something you have to do for me, and you certainly don't need to prove anything to me either. Just put your head down on my stomach, that's right, now relax and enjoy what you're doing. I know I'm enjoying it."

Stacy was now caressing Betty's bottom, thighs, and calves, gently and tenderly, with one hand. It felt nice.

"Now pull your finger out of my hole, and I'll tell you what I like. First I want you to lube me up good, spreading my juices all over my pussy and ass. Yes my ass, even my rectum. It's very sensitive and can feel good if treated gently. That's right, with slow, light caresses, yes, that feels good. Be careful with my clit, it's small, but it's very sensitive too, and you can hurt me easily. Usually you don't touch it directly unless I'm really excited, and then some light stroking or licking or sucking will send me through the roof. If you want to play with it, do it through one of my lips, or through the skin cover ... ooooh, nnnnnngyea, you've got the idea, really light and tender. As you know, everything around there is sensitive to some degree, but for me, it's the skin around my clit and the patch of skin between my vagina and rectum. Yesss, oh! Right there and there, you've got it, oh, yes you've got it you got it you got it ... oooohh yes, keep doing it, please."

Betty got it, and decided it would be okay to use two hands instead of her tongue, at least until she got more used to this. Moving a little, she slid her right arm under Stacy's right leg, lifting it a bit for better access, brought her left arm in over Stacy's middle, and put her head down on Stacy's thigh for a good, close, front-row view of the action. From there, she could actually see into Betty's hole, and watched the pinkish muscles relax and contract in time to Stacy's "oh's". It was a fascinating sight. She could also smell everything. It was different from anything else she knew, coming closest to the smell of her own panties after they'd been worn for a while. She could get used to it easily.

After licking and sucking the thumb and first two fingers of her right hand for lubrication, she slowly and carefully slid two fingers into her friend's wet hole. Once in, she began a slow pumping action, moving in and out. She used her thumb to gently massage the skin between the two holes, getting some delighted whimpers from Stacy. Next to be licked and sucked were the first two fingers of her other hand. These she used to touch and massage the upper parts of that wonderful pussy in front of her, lightly feeling and caressing both inside and outside those puffy lips.

When she heard Stacy's breath become fast and panting, she increased the speed of her pumping, and began to tease Stacy's clit, touching the skin over top of it, circling around the edge, moving away up or down then coming back, and finally, when she heard the blonde gasping, she started a very gentle fingertip massage of the top of it.

"Oh god, yes, oh yes, don't stop, don't st... oh, I'm cumming! I'm cum... I'm cum....cumiiiiiiinnnnnngggg!" Caught up in her orgasm, she almost managed to shake the brunette loose with her hips thrusting and gyrating all over. Betty moved her finger off Stacy's clit when the orgasm started to subside, knowing how sensitive her own got after cumming, instead rubbing the skin around it. Stacy obviously liked it, she kept cumming and cumming and cumming ...

It seemed like hours before Stacy came back down from her high, but was in fact about a minute.

"Stop, please, no more for now. I'm drained."

Betty stopped, but left her fingers where they were sitting, in Stacy's hole and in her slot. She liked it when Dave left her full for a while afterwards too. That euphoric glow, that wonderful feeling of just having been fucked, seemed to last longer and sink deeper when he did. Besides, the way her fingers were being grabbed and sucked inside, she didn't think Stacy wanted her to pull out.

Once Stacy's breathing returned to more-or-less normal, Betty pulled out (getting a whimper of protest for that) and moved up to be face- to-face again. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open, face flushed and perspiring. Touching those lips with her cum-covered fingertips, she rubbed some in. Stacy's tongue came out and licked off the juice, and her mouth opened for the rest.

When it didn't come, she opened her eyes. Seeing what was in front of her, she closed her eyes and shivered her way through a mini- orgasm, a small aftershock left over from the big one. Betty was licking her fingers clean of Stacy's juices, just as though she was licking a popsicle. The taste wasn't bad, a little sweet, with a very slight tang to it. Not too far from the taste of her own juices. When done, she slid her fingers into Stacy's twat for more, causing the girl to shiver and gasp all over again. This time she let Stacy suck her fingers clean. She went back for one more load, but this time, when she put her fingers in Stacy's mouth, she followed them with her own lips and tongue, sharing the taste and the juices between them.

"Hmm, I think I need some more practice."

"No! Nononono, please. I've had enough for now. You've exhausted me. Just let me rest for a little while. Pull the covers up and let's cuddle."

"Better not. At least, I'd better not. Dad would have a fit if I stayed out all night without calling. You rest for a bit. You need it right now. It looks like I might have been a bit rough on you. Too many amateur mistakes, I guess."

Betty gave Stacy a warm, soft, chaste kiss on the lips, pulled up the covers, and left the room. Two hours later she was back, waking her friend with the same kind of kiss she'd left her to sleep with.

"Hey sleepyhead, time to wake up. It's late, dinner's almost here, and I want a shower before I go to bed. C'mon, get that cute tail of yours in gear."

"Dinner? Late? Shower? What time is it?" Her brain was fuzzy, her voice thick with sleep. She felt good, but was tired.

"The pizza should be here in a few minutes, it's dark out, I want a shower 'cause I smell funny, and it's after ten, in that order. You want to hear it again?"

"How long was I asleep?"

"Hours. Of course, I would've waited for the pizza to get here to feed you dinner in bed, but I don't think the delivery guy is ready to see me dressed like this."

"You're wearing that again? Shouldn't you be ready to head home soon?"

"Nope. I called dad and told him you were having a party here tonight, and it'd be a late one. So I'd be staying the night here. I hope it's okay?"

"It's quite okay. I'm just not awake enough yet to appreciate it."

"Oops, you'd better get dressed fast, that's the door buzzer. Sounds like our pizza is here."

They had their pizza, showered together (her first intimate shower with another girl, too bad nothing exciting happened) and then they crawled into bed. It was the type of intimate, relaxed evening that only two lovers could really have. Remembering back to their first time at Annabella's, Betty realized that they were sharing the same sort of quiet time together, both able to be themselves with no pressures or demands of any kind. She'd never had this before with anyone, except maybe a few times years ago with her mother. This was a little different, though, because of the attraction she had for Stacy. Each touch, each kiss and glance, created a soft, warm glow inside.

Both were still tired, suffering the after-effects of their early-evening activities, so they curled up together, necked and petted for a while, and went to sleep.

<<present>>

After dinner, Joyce insisted that Betty and Stacy model everything, especially the underclothes and their new nightgowns. Betty was rather embarrassed modelling the latter in front of Joyce. Some of the bras and panties were picked out with Stacy in mind, and were quite sexy and revealing. As were the nightgowns. Betty's was light, emerald green, very sheer, mostly see through, and very skimpy. You could see almost everything under it. Joyce thought she looked really cute. Stacy thought she looked absolutely gorgeous. Stacy's was similar, but much longer, reaching to her calves, and in a ruby red colour. Joyce gave her a wolf-whistle when she came strutting out of the bedroom.

When the modelling show was over, before either had a chance to change, Joyce excused herself, saying it was time for her to head home.

"I think I'd better, just to make certain your father is at home. By the way, he knows I came here this morning. He tailed me again. He thinks he's so clever."

"He tailed you? Again?" Joyce had to explain to Stacy how they'd been followed on the way to the restaurant. "What a bastard!"

"You're both going to have to be careful of him. If he starts getting bad, don't hesitate to call the police. You wouldn't be doing him any favors by not calling, and he'll just get worse. Believe me. Here's the number for detective Simons. He's the guy who handled the problems when your mother left, and I talked to him this morning and explained what's happening now."

"Oh, I almost forgot. I called Patsy this morning and told her what happened. She said thanks, and wished you luck. She said, and I'm quoting her on this, 'It's about time she stood up to that bastard.' I told you she wasn't all that bad."

"Anyway, I'd better go. Maybe I'll get lucky and run into Woody on the way out. Wouldn't that be nice."

With that, she packed up and headed out, leaving the two girls alone.

<<End of chapter 7>>

Next chapter <<present>> On their own, the shower and goodnight <<past>> The next morning plus spring summer and fall, the big fight <<epilogue>>

public praise: alt.sex.stories.d email "To Bombadil" stbush@iglou.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Path: bull.hkstar.net!news1.hk.linkage.net!hk.linkage.net!hpg30a.csc.cuhk.hk!news.cuhk.edu.hk!news.glink.net.hk!uunet!in3.uu.net!iglou!stbush From: Shelby Bush <stbush@iglou.com> Subject: Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story [f/f] (8/8) X-Sender: stbush@iglou X-Nntp-Posting-Host: iglou Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.93.960823080454.3329I-100000@iglou> Sender: news@iglou.com (News Administrator) Organization: IgLou Internet Services (1-800-436-4456) Mime-Version: 1.0 Date: Fri, 23 Aug 1996 12:06:31 GMT Lines: 841

Elizabeth and Anastasia, A Love Story

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 8 of 8

Disclamer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

In this chapter

<<present>> on their own, the shower and goodnight <<past>> the next morning plus spring summer & fall, the big fight <<epilogue>>

<<past>>

It was strange. This was the first time she'd ever woken up in the morning with her bed partner beside her (that time with Dave didn't count. They hadn't gone to sleep until 4 am, and only slept for three hours). After a while, lying there, doing nothing, it came to her. The strangeness wasn't because it was a different bed in a different room, and it wasn't the touch and warmth of that naked body pressing into hers. It was the smell. Stacy had her own unique smell. With the two of them sharing warmth under the covers all night, both had released their bodies' odours, which became trapped in the sheets. It was a pleasant smell, faintly musky, with a hint of her friend's perfume.

Moving carefully, she rolled into the older girl, resting her head in the crook of her friend's arm and caressing one of Stacy's breasts with her hand. She loved the feel of this body beside her, so warm and silky soft, naked, with skin contact from head to toe. Sighing contentedly, she fell back to sleep.

There was a delicious tickling sensation running through her body when Betty woke up again. Without opening her eyes, she couldn't tell where it came from. There were tingles on her lips, in her nipples, in her clit, and deep in her vagina. Everything was sensitized, responding to ... something ... nice.

Opening one eye, she looked down her body to see what was doing this to her. She was still stretched out full length along Stacy's side with her head resting on her friend's shoulder, but now Stacy's arm was hugging her as well, holding her close. So that was it. Stacy was using one finger to brush and tease just the tip of her one exposed nipple. How that managed to echo all through her body she didn't know.

"Mornin' sleepyhead. Your turn to wake up feeling good. I'm not as nasty as you are though. I wouldn't start without you."

"Whatever you're doin', it feels good. How long you been doin' it?"

"Ages and ages. I bet your whole body tingles by now."

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You don't think I just woke up and suddenly wondered what would happen if I ... ?"

"Somebody did it to you too, right?"

"Mmmm hmmm. I know exactly how you feel."

"I've never had this done to me before. I guess I have a lot to learn."

"True, but I think we'll enjoy every minute of it. I've had some really good teachers. Not much luck with lovers, but most were excellent bedmates."

"Anastasia, does this mean we're bedmates now?"

Replying after a sigh and a long pause, she spoke in a quiet, serious voice.

"No, Elizabeth, it doesn't. At least, I hope not."

"Why?"

"You nasty creature you. These questions will be the death of me. Elizabeth, I don't want another bedmate. I've had plenty of those."

"Then, what?"

"Do I have to spell it out again? I would like us to become lovers. I'm very much attracted to you, and I like you a lot. It's hard to define, but I want you with me."

"I'm glad. I needed to hear that. Remember, I am a young, inexperienced, rather naive, insecure little girl."

"Here I am, opening myself up to you, and you feed me a line like that. This time you don't get off the hook. You owe me some honesty now."

"Kiss me first, so I feel better."

"Mmmm, thank you. Anastasia, I'm not sure I want to be your lover yet. You hurt me last year, and that's hard to forget. I still don't know who you are inside. Until I do, I'm not willing to make a commitment. I hope you can settle for having me as a bedmate, at least for now."

"If that's what you're willing to give me, for now, I'll accept. But when you make up your mind, one way or the other, you have to promise to tell me."

"I promise. Now you have to make me a promise too. You can't let my dad know about us. He's absolutely strange when it comes to 'those horrid and disgusting lesbian affairs' - his words, not mine. I'd be in really big trouble if he ever found out."

"All right. My dad doesn't know about me either. He thinks I'm going to go to university to meet Mr. Right. If he thought I was going just for the education, he'd disown me. Of course, it's easier hiding things from him because he lives three hundred miles away."

"You mean, you've been hiding yourself from him for years? He doesn't even suspect?"

"That's right. He's so old-fashioned, I think the shock of finding out who I really am could give him a heart attack. At first, I hid it from him because of my pain and humiliation. Now I'm using him to get through college. I'm ashamed of what I'm doing, but it's the only way I'll ever be free enough to live my own life. After I've graduated, I will tell him. No matter what the consequences."

"So how come you're here and not at home?"

"I can thank my mother for this. It's one of the best things she's ever done for me. When dad got promoted and transferred, she convinced him that I should be allowed to finish my senior year here, rather than going to a new school in a new town with all new people. I'd be moving back here in less than a year anyway to go to college. It would be just a little bit early. It was touch and go, but, even though they're divorced, he still has a lot of respect for her opinion."

"Next time you talk to your mother, give her my thanks. She kept you here so I could meet you."

"Maybe I will, at that."

"Anastasia?"

"You're starting to scare me with these questions. What would you like to know this time?"

"How did it feel, yesterday, when you did me the first time? I mean, it's not every day you get to deflower a virgin."

"Virgin?"

"Yeah. You're my first woman, ever."

"I kinda got the impression that I was your first lady bedmate, but never really thought of you as a virgin. Is that how you felt yesterday?"

"I really did, and I wanted it to be special. That first time with a guy was pretty awful, so yesterday was really special for me. Thank you."

"Elizabeth, what we did yesterday was special for me too. You are the first ... bedmate ... I've ever had these types of feelings for. It was something I'll always remember. Even though you are a rookie. Now then, it's time for your next lesson."

This lesson involved the proper use of lips and tongue when meeting a pussy for the first time. Betty was incapable of paying close attention at times, so Stacy thought it only fair that she repeat the lesson immediately, with Betty trying to duplicate some of it herself. They both ended up tired and feeling good.

After a quick shower and breakfast, Stacy dropped Betty off at home. Dad was there, as usual. Her story was that after the party closed up at two am, she slept on the couch. He seemed to accept the story without question. She felt guilty about lying to her father, but knew the truth would be much worse.

Over the next several months, their intimate times were fairly rare, both from lack of common available time and the need for secrecy. They were definitely learning experiences for Betty. She learned how different it was making love with another woman, as compared to Dave or those other guy's she'd been with, and what her lips and tongue could really do to Stacy. She especially enjoyed the easy intimacy, the relaxed way they had with each other. Nothing was forced or taken, it was always shared.

Her date for the junior prom was Robert. It took some convincing, but after telling both Robert and Jordan about her last experience, and getting Jordan to agree first, Robert finally assented. Now that was a prom night she'd have fond memories of for the rest of her life. After 'accidentally' letting it slip that Robert wasn't really her boy friend (they'd already arranged this) he was hounded by a half-dozen girls looking to get to know him better. As agreed, though, he danced with Betty during all the slow songs and kept close tabs on her the rest of the time, forestalling any attempts by her former beaus to corner her.

They slipped out quietly, after the last speeches but before the dance really wound down. Joined by Dave and Rosie, they drove down to beach drive (it should have been called river drive) for a walk in the moonlight. It made her glad to see those two having so much fun together. Stacy and Jordan were there, as planned, and the six of them paired off.

Robert and Jordan disappeared for a while, Stacy and Betty went for a walk holding hands, and Dave and Rosie, after getting over the shock of seeing the two girls kissing, and promising to keep their damned mouths shut, sat on a sheltered bench to enjoy each other's company. Now Dave and Rosie thought they had a better understanding and appreciation for what Betty had done for them.

The two girls found a dark, secluded, sheltered spot and stood there, just holding each other for a while. Stacy asked if this was a better prom than the last one, and Betty said yes it was, especially the last part, the moonlight stroll. Stacy pulled a small white flower from Betty's corsage and wove it into her chestnut hair, above her left ear. "From now on Elizabeth, no matter what happens, you will always be my 'Little Blossom', my beautiful, innocent, delicate flower." She finalized that promise with a long, soft kiss.

Summertime was a little better for them because Betty had more flexibility about when she'd be available. It still didn't seem like they could get physical nearly as often as they'd like to (or sometimes almost needed to). Betty's part-time job was expanded to nearly full-time covering for co-workers on vacation, and, along with dad and Patsy, she spent almost every other weekend at her father's favorite beach resort.

Stacy spent several weeks visiting with her father, and another couple of weeks visiting her mother. She was also putting in as many hours as she could as a teacher's aide in summer school and as a study coordinator at the university. The pay wasn't that good, less than Betty was making as a glorified coffee girl, but it was more rewarding.

They had one very close call with Jonathan just before school started. It was early on a Friday afternoon, when Betty thought the two of them would have several hours to themselves at her place. They were in her bedroom, on the bed, just getting started, when her dad arrived home early. Stacy was already topless and only had time to grab a pillow for decency's sake as he walked in on them. Thinking fast, Betty had just enough time to stand up and kick Stacy's bra and blouse under the bed.

"Dad! You're supposed to knock first before you open the door! Now look what you've done. You've embarrassed Stacy!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just wondering what you were up to."

The only thing he was sorry for was that he hadn't been a few seconds faster. He'd caught a glimpse of Stacy's tits before she got the pillow in front of her and wished he had managed to get a better look, only partly because he thought her nipples looked wet. He had his suspicions about Stacy and, when he'd seen her car out front, had walked in quietly, hoping to catch them 'in the act' as it were.

"If you must know, we're trying to find something of mine that will fit her. Now would you mind getting out and closing the door? You're causing a draft."

They found something that fit Stacy, and 'spilled' some cola on her blouse and bra as an excuse for why she needed something. They had to wait until her nipples returned to normal before heading out. Betty had an argument later with her dad about him spying on her and said 'what were you hoping to see, me or one of my friends naked or something?'

Jonathan started to find more and more excuses to be with his daughter, occupying her time, keeping her busy and away from Stacy, but trying not to be obvious about it. He still couldn't do much about her occasional lunches and dinners with Joyce, but he'd think of something.

It was slow, subtle, and it worked. They started to get out of the habit of seeing each other regularly, because neither seemed to be able to find much in the way of common free time. Betty thought this might be Stacy's choice. Maybe Stacy was hinting that it was time to move on. Meanwhile Betty was feeling lonelier and more distant from Stacy every day. They were lucky if they saw each other once a week, sometimes missing a week, and rarely being able to get intimate. Betty couldn't find any way to speak freely about what she was going through. That empty feeling inside her was returning, and she couldn't figure out why.

<<present>>

Stacy leaned back into the couch. "Whew. Where does she get the energy? She tired me out, and I wasn't even doing the shopping!"

Sitting down and curling up beside her friend, Betty replied. "I think she saves it up for the weekend. I'm not sure. She's always been like this, ever since I've known her." Stacy wrapped an arm around Betty.

"I wonder about her though. When we were modeling these things, (fondling Betty through her skimpy garment) she was definitely getting hot. Do you think she's secretly bi?"

"You heard her last night. She said no. She might have been fibbing though."

"Then again maybe not. Maybe she just likes to look at pretty girls in skimpy outfits, without wanting to touch."

"Yeah, could be. Sort of like you and those kisses Woody hands out. I can see you really like them, but you've never seemed interested in men before."

"I'm still not, especially with you here. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a really good kiss, knowing there's no pressure on me to do anything else. You still haven't gotten a good kiss from him though."

"I thought that one this morning was wonderful. You mean he gets better?"

"You caught him by surprise. He wasn't ready to give you a real kiss. Next time, you'd better hold on tight. He wraps his arm around you for a reason. He doesn't want you to fall down when he's finished. I've seen it happen."

"Oooh, I can't wait. C'mere, you. I want you to get as good as him, and that means you'll need a *lot* of practice."

"Mmmm. I think I could get used to this. Y'know, Stace, it feels strange. I know that we could sit here all night, just kissing and feeling good, but I can't seem to really relax tonight."

"Okay Betty, what's the problem."

"I'm not sure it's a problem. A little piece of me is still worried about my father and what this will do to him, and how moving out will affect my life from now on. I've lost the security of my home, and that scares me a little. Joyce is helping with getting me, I mean us, set up here, but she's using my mother's money. Soon I'll be talking with her again. After five years! That scares me a little too. So much has happened lately, it's becoming a little dreamy, sort of like one of those cheap novels you read. I mean, I'm sitting here with you, in *our* apartment, making kissy-kissy, and it just doesn't seem real somehow. I feel like I should be waking up soon to find myself still at home in bed. Am I making any sense?"

"Well, it sounds like you just need to get used to the fact that you've moved out. It will take a while. After all, this is only your second night away from home, and things happened very quickly. Remember, two weeks ago your father didn't even know about us, and three days ago you were still living happily at home."

"It did happen kind of sudden, didn't it. One minute I was arguing with dad, the next minute I was out of the house, probably for good. Deep inside, I don't feel it yet."

"I know. There's just too much, too fast, to absorb it all right away. Don't worry, you'll catch up. It took me a while too, and I was only a bit older than you when I moved in here."

Stacy started nibbling on Betty's ears and neck, keeping them both silent for a few minutes. Well, silent except for the odd moan or sigh.

"One thing I do know, Stace, is that I'd rather be sitting here with you right now than be anywhere else in the world. What's going to happen now?"

<<past>>

The proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan one Saturday late in October.

Jonathan had promised Patsy an evening of dinner and dancing. This would leave Betty alone in the house all evening, since her dad had never returned from one of these dates before one in the morning. She called Stacy and, amazingly, she was free as well. Stacy promised to be over around eight. Dad usually went out between seven and seven thirty, so this left a half-hour safety margin.

They hadn't seen each other for almost two weeks, and hadn't been intimate in over a month, so when Stacy arrived they went straight to the bedroom for some much-needed physical contact. Betty wanted to talk as well, but afterwards, when lust didn't cloud her mind. She wanted to know why the two of them were growing so distant.

It was about an hour later when they were interrupted. Both were sweating, lying naked on Betty's bed with Betty's face buried in Stacy's snatch, working her towards her third release.

"WHAT THE FUCKING CHRIST IS GOING ON IN HERE!!!"

Jonathan had come home early. Patsy, claiming fatigue, had begged off dancing and gone home. Neither of the girls would have noticed a brass band marching past the bedroom door, and were oblivious to the sounds he'd made driving in and opening the front door. The noises they were making were unmistakable. All he heard, though, was another woman's sounds of pleasure, not his daughter's. Giving in to his fears, he peeked into her bedroom. His darkest suspicions were now confirmed in the worst way.

It was a very loud and long series of arguments. He'd almost thrown Stacy out the door naked, but thought better of it. He let her get dressed at the front door with him standing in front of her yelling the whole time. His temper and language were horrid, calling both of them some of the worst things imaginable. There hadn't even been time for Betty to throw on a robe, trying to catch up to her father when he dragged Stacy by the arm out of her room, so she was also naked, covered with both of their juices, crying, and yelling at her father. Only when she went back to get Stacy's clothes did she take time to slip on her housecoat.

Some of the things that hurt the most weren't the cuss words or the shouting. They were what he said about Stacy, because the words had some plausabilty, a possible ring of truth to them, no matter how much Betty tried to deny it.

"Stacy is a heartless lying bitch! She'll say anything at all to keep you coming back for more sex!"

"You goddamn lesbians are all the same! All you want to do is ruin a good home so you can laugh at us poor jerks when we're left with no-one! Just like that bitch who stole my wife from me!"

"Get the fuck out of my house! Get the fuck out of my life! And stay the fuck out of my Daughter's life OR ELSE! And if I ever, and I do mean ever, see or hear of you near my daughter again, you will regret it horribly. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!"

"Jesus Christ Betty! It's exactly the same as when I met your mother! She'd just been dumped by her lover for some other floozy after giving her heart away! That Stacy bitch is doing the same thing to you!"

"You think she doesn't have other lovers besides you? Don't be so fucking naive! That bitch probably sees you once ever week or three, just when she wants a piece of young innocent tail! She could care less about how you feel!"

"No Betty. She doesn't love you. She never did. After tonight, you'll never hear from her again. Sure, love conquers all, but lust will find an easier route. She'll just grab another young innocent girl someplace to play her games with."

"Look at your mother! She found a lezzie bitch to shack up with and just dumped you and me on our own! Did you ever here from her again? I know I certainly haven't! And Stacy reminds me a lot of both of them!"

There were many other hateful and spiteful things said, some about Stacy, and some between father and daughter. Finally Betty went to her room to be alone, tired of the shouting. Jonathan sat up for most of the night, drinking, feeling somewhat pleased with himself. He'd finally caught them, and maybe gotten rid of Stacy for good. Now, hopefully, his daughter would change back to a normal person and start going out with boys again.

<<present>>

"Well, lets see, we'll probably sit here for a while, then have a shower and go to bed."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Little Blossom, we have our whole lives to live. Nobody can predict what will happen. We can look ahead and try to plan, but that's it. Right now, I'm taking things one day at a time, one thing at a time, having as much fun as I can. All I'm really sure of is that I love you. You want to know what my dream for the future is?"

"What Stace?"

"When I'm as old as Joyce, I hope I'm still having as much fun as she is. And that you'll be right there with me, so we'll never be lonely."

"I like that dream. Anastasia?"

"Yes?"

"I guess we'd better go down and fill out that paperwork for Mrs. Jacobs tomorrow. After all, I'm planning on being with my lover for a long time."

"You ... you mean that? After all this time you've finally made your decision?"

"After all this time. I made it when I saw you in the restaurant the other day, waiting for me, wanting me. The ache in my heart when I thought you'd maybe gone for good was terrible. When I finally saw you again, it was wonderful. Right there I knew I didn't want to ever lose you."

"Elizabeth, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I also owe you an apology. Not because of what you said, because I plan on being the best and the only lover you'll ever have, but because of what I put you through. It wasn't fair for me to just duck out like that. You needed me and I wasn't there. I just wish I was as brave as you are. After what your father did to me, all I could think of was running and finding a place to hide. I almost did too god a job. I abandoned you and almost lost you. I'm sorry, and I promise I'll never leave you again."

"Thank you. Apology accepted. And I'm gonna hold you to your promise. Y'know, I'm starting to get used to this now. Just sitting here, talking, you holding me, it feels so ... so right. It's slowly sinking in that I don't have to go home tonight ... or tomorrow ... or the next day. I don't have to call daddy for permission to sleep over, worry about him finding out, or any of that stuff. Because I'm already home!"

"Yes you are. You're right exactly where you belong. With me. And don't you dare let me forget that, ever."

"I won't. As long as you remember that you are mine, and mine alone. I don't share with anybody. Now kiss me. My lips are lonely 'cause it's been at least ten minutes since they last touched yours."

They sat there for a while, kissing and caressing each other, slowly getting used to the lack of urgency, the fact that they didn't need to rush or watch the clock or listen for cars or footsteps.

That feeling of rightness that she sometimes shared with Stacy was coming back. Draining away was the worry, the tension, the dread, anger, frustration and everything else. A calmness entered her, peace that she'd so often hungered for but rarely found, settling in to replace all those other emotions. She relaxed into Stacy's arms, finally able to really enjoy the touch of her skin, the warmth of her body, the comfort and security of her embrace.

Sighing with contentment, she turned to hug Stacy, resting her head on her lover's chest and curling up in her lap. She could hear the slow steady beating of her lover's heart, and feel her chest rise up and down with every breath. Stacy had one arm around Betty's shoulders, holding her close, and the other was stroking her hair, her cheek, and her neck. It was an intimate caress, one that made Betty feel safe and protected.

Alas, reality eventually intruded on this most touching scene.

"Anastasia, lets go have that shower now. I'm getting cold."

"Me too. These outfits look hot and drive up the temperature of whoever sees them, but aren't much good at keeping a body warm, are they?"

Their shower was a long, slow, relaxed affair - well, mostly relaxed. Stacy showed Betty what the pulse setting on her removable showerhead was REALLY for.

First, they washed each other's hair, using Stacy's special floral shampoo. Stacy soaped up her partner really good, scrubbing her all over with a washcloth and a loofa, making her tingle everywhere. This was followed by a soapy massage of her neck, shoulders, back, breasts, bottom, legs, and finally her pussy (of course). Betty had her foot up on the ledge, opening her legs wide for easy access. After grabbing the showerhead and setting it to pulse, she used it to rinse off all the soap and give Betty a skin massage, running the pulsed spray over almost every square inch of flesh. While doing this, she also slid two fingers into Betty's hole, starting a slow, grinding motion.

Betty liked this so much she grabbed the railing with both hands, closed her eyes, and moaned her approval.

Taking her time, Stacy slowly brought her lover up towards orgasm. When it grew imminent, she told Betty to hold off for a surprise. Working the sprayer across and down her stomach, she slowly brought the point of contact closer and closer to her lover's exposed clit. Betty was breathing rapidly, waiting, trying to hold off for that contact. When it happened, she tried to scream but her throat was locked up in her sudden orgasm. It was intense and long, lasting until Stacy pulled away the pulsed spray. All the way through, she could only gasp and give out small 'ah' sounds. Without her grip on the railing Betty would have fallen. As it was, Stacy had to help hold her up when it was over.

It was wonderful. Betty had needed that for a while. Last night she was too tired and wound up for any kind of fun or sex play, but tonight was perfect for their enjoyment.

Then it was Betty's turn. First the soaping with washcloth and loofa, then the massage, then the pulsed rinse. No fingers in the twat, no spray on the pussy, yet.

She sat in the bottom of the tub, legs spread, and directed Stacy to sit also, facing her, legs spread, one arched over and one under her thighs. Holding her hands, she had Stacy lean back until she was lying flat out, pushing her pussy into the other's crotch. Betty then leaned against the back of the tub, head up but relaxed. Only then did she begin to play the pulsed spray over them both, covering each with the hot water, paying particular attention to Stacy's breasts.

It felt good, warm and tingly, especially when it touched the more sensitive areas on their bodies, like nipples and thighs. Stacy's eyes were closed, immersed in the tactile play of the water's caress and the touch of skin on skin.

Betty could feel a renewal of her need, the urgency of which had only slightly subsided with her first orgasm. Using her free hand, she began to play with her breasts and nipples, caressing them, gently pulling and pinching her sensitive nubs. Occasionally she reached down to spread her lips open for the streams of warm water, multiplying the effect, bringing her a little closer to the edge each time. She could see Stacy doing the same thing, unabashedly stroking both their pussies and playing with her own breasts and nipples. It was erotic because she knew what those soft hands and nimble fingers could do to her.

Hardly noticeable at first, the spray began to wander more and more over their bellies and thighs, occasionally even touching or passing over their crotches. She could hear Stacy gasp slightly or give out a tiny whimper whenever the spray touched her pussy. Tightening its wanderings further, she limited her attentions to their mounds, inner thighs and slots.

Betty closed her eyes, sighing with the pleasure of this new sensation. Using ears and touch, it was easy to tell when she hit Stacy's sensitive spots and how close she was to going over. She could feel everything through her thighs, buttocks, and pussy lips. Each time Stacy clamped down with her vagina, there was a tickling sensation on Betty's outer lips. It only added to the pleasure of their slow mutual masturbation.

Building up a tiny bit at a time, Betty began a soft grind of her hips, rubbing herself up against Stacy's ass and crotch, almost crying when Stacy's hips started rotating in counterpoint. She let it drag out, not in any hurry for this, wanting a huge release. It was incredible how hot her cunt felt right now, juices flowing freely, washing over herself and Stacy, mixing in with the warm streams of water.

Neither girl cared about or noticed anything outside of their bodies, totally wrapped up in this deep, hedonistic play. The only senses active were touch and hearing, and that limited to the sound of the spray and of each other's pleasure. Both could feel the other's arousal, the twitching, the twisting, the muscle spasms, being locked in pussy against pussy.

Each twist of her wrist sent fresh jets of hot, pulsing water against one or the other slot, sending new waves of sensation deep into each of their bellies. The one not directly under the spray received the lighter feel of the backwash and splashes, and the contractions, moans and whimpers of the other. Both were heavily aroused, outer and inner lips spread, clits fully engorged and extended, reaching for the next pulse of spray, water alternately flowing into and being squeezed out of each hole, this squirt sometimes travelling straight into the open hole of the other, all adding to their intense, shared pleasure.

"Oh god, I'm so close!"

"Soon, Stace, soon. It'll be soon. I'll say when. Wait for me."

"Hurry. Please."

It was so close, Betty holding off until she couldn't endure any more. With a long, drawn-out whine, she said "now."

They each convulsed, bucking into one another. She felt her orgasm approaching, then crashing over her like an ocean wave, pulling her along helplessly, covering her completely, rolling her over and over. Each time she was coming down a little, the spray would be back on her, pushing her wave higher, or Stacy would buck again and rub hard against her. There was no stopping until her pleasure wave was completely spent, leaving her gasping on the beach. She left the spray full on Stacy then, knowing she could extend her orgasm longer, waiting until she cried 'no more'.

It was hard to come down. Each time she relaxed a little, Stacy would jerk or twist, rubbing against her lips and her clit, setting off small ripples of pleasure throughout her body. She couldn't help her own spasms from happening either, each one shooting down through her body, through her crotch and into her lover, making her squirm and groan. They bounced back and forth like this for what seemed like ages before calming down.

Both were completely drained, lying there in the tub, unable to move, the water still pulsing, but no longer directed at building their excitement. It might not be the strongest orgasm she'd ever had, but it was definitely the deepest and most satisfying. She just wanted to lie there and rest, maybe forever, bathed in that wonderful post-orgasmic bliss.

After the longest time, Stacy finally spoke.

"I think we're gonna do this again some day."

There was a long pause before Betty answered.

"Yeah. Like in a week or two. I might wake up by then."

<pause>

"Did it hit you as hard as it did me?"

<pause>

"Well, if you're talking about a freight train, yeah."

<pause>

"That's ... pretty close. I guess we should get to bed soon, before I fall asleep here in the tub."

<pause>

"Yeah. Another hour I just might be able to move."

<pause>

With much moaning and groaning, and a little whimpering, they crawled out of the tub, dried off and went to bed.

Holding each other, both warm, tired and sleepy, completely satiated, they kissed, then relaxed. Each spoke once.

"Betty, I love you."

"Stacy, I love you too."

And fell asleep.

<<epilogue, fourteen months later>>

Christmas this year was held at Marion and Mike's ranch house. Everyone made the trip except Jonathan. He hadn't been invited. The host and hostess (Betty's mom and her newish husband) were in the kitchen cleaning up, aided by Joyce, Diana, and Susan (Diana's live-in for the last few years). Walter and Madge (Stacy's dad and his new girlfriend) were in the backyard along with Carol (Stacy's mom, Walter's ex-wife), sitting and jawing with Phil and Nancy. They were Mike's two kids from his previous marriage, so officially they were Betty's step brother and step sister. Betty and Stacy were sitting in the front room, quietly talking, and playing with five year old Victoria.

It took over two weeks after she'd left home before she had the courage to talk with her father and tell him what was happening. He was calm and reasonable the whole time. The fact that they'd met in a restaurant and had Robert, Patsy, and an officer as witnesses probably had something to do with it. He finally agreed to let Joyce and the detective pack up her things.

Betty refused to ever step foot in that house again, or ever be alone with him. At least they were now on speaking terms. She'd mailed him a christmas card, from her and Stacy, and he'd called to wish them both the best of the season before they left. She told him where they would be spending Christmas. He was silent for a minute, but then told her to have fun.

The two girls settled in nicely together, rarely having spats and immediately making up afterwards (some thought their spats were just an excuse to make up, but that's some folks opinion and you know what that's worth). Stacy was now a sophomore in college, working towards a combined degree in economics and business management. Betty was a senior, still in high school, preparing for college. She didn't know if she wanted to go into biology, sociology, or theater. Some of Jordan's passion for the stage had apparently rubbed off onto her.

Walter was getting used to the fact that his daughter would probably never marry, at least in the traditional sense. He did smile when Stacy hinted that grand-kids weren't totally out of the question. That got a strange look from Betty, who promised herself they'd be talking about this real soon.

Patsy called them early on Christmas day to wish everyone a merry Christmas (from her place, of course). She and Jonathan were going out for a romantic dinner that night, and the next day they would be flying off to Paris for a week. Betty actually hoped they'd have a good time.

Victoria Naomi Brust was an absolutely delightful surprise for Betty. It was the biggest shock of her life when she found out that she had a baby sister. Apparently mom was pregnant when she'd left Jonathan, and never told him. He still didn't know. Patsy did, and had sent along a nice present for the little tyke.

All in all, things were looking pretty good.

<<End of chapter 8, end of the story>>

Authors notes:

Jonathan did finally learn about Victoria and got to meet her for the first time last year. It was just after the birth of his and Patsy's son. Betty and Stacy brought her out to see her new half-brother, and promised they'd bring the baby back for a visit some day too. Patsy thought it was a wonderful idea, giving the rest of his relatives a chance to see him. This earned her some dark looks from Jonathan.

No, Patsy hasn't married Jonathan or even moved in with him. She said he'd take that as a sign of ownership, which she could never stand. This way, he had to stay nice or she could (and would) tell him to take a hike.

<<Fin>>

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Last modified (12/24/96 14:10:37) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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