.
                                                  ::

                                            as falls cuyahoga,
                                      so falls cuyahoga falls

                                                  ::

The vibrator on the pillow next to Addison's mouth half-open in
sleep is straight and simple, a mother-of-pearly pink
torpedolette whorled with delicate white striations. Addison
herself a toasted late-summer gold glowing in the diffuse morning
light laid naked belly down along one side of her mother's low
white futon. One arm curled beneath her chest, the other
fingertips dangling flung above her head to lightly brush the
floor. A snort and murmur as aggressively minimalist shoes
tick-clock tick-clock on spindly heels beside her. Vanessa in a
satiny robe down to her calves unbelted over charcoal thightop
stockings gartered to a sheer black merry widow denuded of all
frips and frills stands half-smiling over her daughter's sleeping
head.

Addison, she says. Addison, wake up. It's time to get ready for
school.

Alexandra in her schoolgirl kilt scowling at her sister's bare
feet propped up on the kitchen table. Addison in a tight white
tank top and plaid boxers slurping from a big green cup of
coffee. Mom, Alexandra starts to say, but Vanessa in her
still-unbelted robe turns from the windows full of sunlight, her
glare no less for all it's lost in shadow. Behave, says Vanessa
curtly.

Yeah, mutters Addison. Go watch the brothers Finn or something.

Mom! wails Alexandra, as Vanessa snarls Enough. Alexandra, go get
your books.

Mom, I -

Now. And up gets Alexandra as Addison, bare feet now on the
floor, carefully puts her big green cup on the kitchen table and
does not look up at Vanessa. Addison, says Vanessa, quietly.
Addison, stand up.

Chair scraping, Addison stands up.

Turn around and get down on your knees, Addison. Now.

Addison swallows biting her lip and lays one knee on the floor
then two and sits back on her heels hands in her lap.

Addison, says Vanessa, as Addison says We don't have time for
this, Mom.

Addison, says Vanessa, put your hands behind your back.

Mom -

You should have thought of that before you mouthed off to your
sister. Hands behind your back. Vanessa's heels tick-clock closer
as Addison head turning away swings arms behind her back until
her hands meet and her fingers lace into a doubled fist.
Tick-clock, tock-click, Vanessa lets the robe fall slithering
down her arms into a gleaming puddle of lubricious satin. One
foot lifted leaning forward cocks her knee until the thin flat
black sole of her shoe is pressed against the meat of Addison's
thigh. The small heel sharply dimpling that summered flesh.

Addison, says Vanessa, but Addison does not look up.

Go on, little girl, says Vanessa.

I still have to get dressed, says Addison. Turning her head a
little cheek brushing a stocking's dark top band. Eyes closed,
lips parted. A breath. I'm going to be late.

Then make it quick, says Vanessa. But make it good.

If I'm good, says Addison, looking up then, her grin brushing
both Vanessa's thighs, can I take the Miata to school?

Oh, no, says Vanessa, her hand on the back of Addison's head. I
have meetings today, ah, ah. Oh. If you're good, ohhh. If you're
good, you won't have to walk to school for the rest of the week,
ah -

Sweat wiped from her brow and dashed spattering from fingertips
to the wood floor shining marred by the bounces of thousands of
balls and shoe-scuffs. Vanessa Cuyahoga hefting the racket in her
hand and rolling her eyes as Yusuf grinning traps the ball
between his racket and his shoe and with a deft kick flips it
into the air to catch it in his ungloved hand.

Best two out of three? says Vanessa. Double or nothing?

And how, says Yusuf, do you propose to double this particular
wager, when you lose a second time? As you most certainly will.

Yusuf standing naked back to Vanessa as she comes into the steam
undoing a towel from about her breasts. Sweat an iridescent sheen
on Yusuf's dark skin in the low dim sauna light. Vanessa strokes
the hard and concave curve of his slicked ass. He hisses as her
nails dig suddenly into muscle thickly tensed. Leaning forward
the heels of Yusuf's wide hands brace against light yellow wood
right foot taking a step to one side as Vanessa kneels behind
him. His cock half-hidden already lifting within his shadow. Her
other hand on the other side, kneading a little as he shifts,
feet planting. Grunting as Vanessa leans forward, nosing into the
furrow of Yusuf's ass, a breath, her nose lifting as her lips
part and her tongue sweeps up in one long lick. Vanessa, says
Yusuf, quietly, I do believe sometimes you lose on purpose.

Vanessa laughs and licks again. Jaw rolling in big bites as she
works her hands lightly resting on the columns of his thighs.
Yusuf shifts again but does not take his hands down from the
wall. Vanessa one hand now between her own thighs rolls her head
in a deep shuddering breath and bites him gently once there on
his ass. Reaches around to lightly touch his rigid straining
cock. Turn around. Vanessa says, Turn around.

Yusuf turns on clumsy feet to find Vanessa's eager mouth. He
smiles as her lips surround the glistening head of his cock, a
startlingly light magenta pink erupting from the wrinkled
brownish purple of his crumpled foreskin. Her hand about the base
of it, lightly squeezing thumb and forefinger rocking back and
forth a little, just. Vanessa Vanessa, says Yusuf.

The door when it jerks open spills flourescent light an
imposition through billowing steam to strike unpleasant greens
and purples, yellowed whites from butter and indigo black. You
bitch, you cunt. The open-handed blow thuds muffled against the
side of Vanessa's head as loud almost as the ridiculous pop of
Yusuf's cock springing free from Vanessa's mouth but not so loud
as clattering her back and windmilling arms strike the sauna
bench and knock the thermometer to the floor.

Get up. It's Sam who stands there, regal business grey unwilted
by the steam. Black wide-collared shirt unbuttoned down above her
navel. Sweat already a damp runnel in pale shadows between her
breasts. Glossy knee-high boots gleam blackly, thump against the
wood floor stepping closer to Vanessa pulling her feet beneath
her, glaring up.

You do not dictate who I sleep with, snarls Sam. You don't have
veto power.

Why on earth would I want to? says Vanessa pressing heel of one
hand to the side of her head fingers tangled in her sweat-soaked
hair. Richie's a lovely fuck. Cheap at any price.

Spitting He left me you bitch, one more step clomp-thump past
impassive Yusuf. Vanessa leaning forward into a crouch, right
hand still against her head, left on the floor to push her up,
bare foot not unsteady on wet wood. Uncurling upright eyes on a
level with Sam's and not a trace of a smile. In which case, says
Vanessa. For what it's worth. I am sorry.

This slap explosive fingers flat popping open hand on cheek to
rock Vanessa's head around, eyes closed, two quick breaths, three
through parted lips. Eyes blinking open.

I should, says Yusuf, go, leaning over to pick up a towel.
Vanessa's hand leaps to catch his shoulder. No, she says.

Straightening his shoulder rolls up and her arm folds back all
like some oiled mechanism, Yusuf looking at that hand still on
his shoulder then at her. I shall collect my winnings at a later
date, he says, and then that hand falls to Vanessa's side as he
steps out the door and into harsh bright light, wrapping the
towel about his hips.

Vanessa, snarls Sam, look at me, and when Vanessa turns to look
at Sam it is with a face that's sealed, eyes dark and hard to
read in all the steam. A dollop of sweat swings down her jawline,
hangs there in the humid air, falls with a tiny splash to the
bare slicked slope of her left breast that lifts a heavy breath.
Vanessa says Shut up.

You look at -

Vanessa's arm is a blur that freezes as her hand clamps Sam's jaw
implacably in her thumb and palm a vise. Shut up, I said. You
told him. Stupid cunt.

Sam's eyes are wide. Her hands are still there by here sides. I
don't, she says, hurk -

John. You did, didn't you. Didn't you.

My mother is such a cooze!

Addison Cuyahoga drops her much-creased cowboy hat onto Edie's
head as white-socked knees primly together she plops down next to
Edie on the front steps of the school. Tugging at her darkly
tartanned kilt she looks sidelong at Edie with a wicked grin.
Edie in a flouncy light white peasant blouse, a finger's width of
flesh left flashing just above the low-slung hips of tight plum
jeans as she reaches up to settle the hat on her head with a
crackle of stiff straw.

You know what she made me do this morning? says Addison, picking
the elastic of her socks that pinch her thighs an inch or so
above her knees.

You love it, says Edie.

You're the one who loves it, says Addison, leaning into Edie. Her
lips the bright unnatural hue of blood from television shows. Her
chin on Edie's shoulder as she murmurs, I had to eat her out
until she came. In the kitchen. During breakfast. Or she wouldn't
let me drive to school today.

Edie's eyes are wide. Her smile is small. She licks her lips.

I told you you love that shit, says Addison.

Dykes, says someone, maybe the big kid, beefy, blond, there by
the parked red car. Get a room, says the skinnier kid with the
blue bandana. Heh.

You're just jealous because I get more pussy than you, says
Addison, sneering.

Oh, ho. Hoo. Whoa. The skinnier kid wiggles his tongue, licking
the air. Addison, says Edie, rolling her eyes. Addison kicks her
knees apart, open, one hand between her thighs, finger crooked,
beckoning, come on. Come on, I dare you. Addison, says Edie.
Hoots and catcalls. The skinnier kid rolls his head away, arms
up, Oh my God. Grinning. The beefy kid punches his shoulder.

Young lady, as Addison's knees snap shut. Young lady. Miss
Cuyahoga.

Mister Cole? says Addison, looking up. Smiling. One hand shading
her eyes.

That behavior is inappropriate, and I believe that outfit is as
well.

I was just sticking up for my friend, says Addison, quiet.

That skirt is too short, Addison Cuyahoga.

I'm wearing tights.

Those are not tights. Stand up.

Addison cocks an eyebrow. Leave us alone, says Edie. The skinnier
kid's headed off to the other end of the parking lot, waving at
someone. The beefy kid is gone.

Stand up, Addison, says Mister Cole.

And Addison slowly one hand on the aluminum banister running down
the middle of the wide flat steps pulls herself to her feet.
Brushing off the seat of her kilt. White blouse buttoned once
only between her breasts and slit up each side to the middle of
her ribs. She smoothes the tails fluttering in a sudden gust with
her hands.

I'm going to write you a note, says Mister Cole, and -

No you're not, says Addison, quietly.

- send you what? Leaning forward, Mister Cole.

You're not, says Addison again. You're not going to do anything.

Young lady - Her hand brushing the hem of her kilt between her
thighs, picking at it. Cut that out. I -

Mister Cole, says Addison, quietly, if you don't turn around and
walk away and leave me and Edie alone, I'm going to lift up my
skirt and show you what's underneath.

You - I -

And I'm going to tell everyone you made me do it. Because you
wanted to make sure I wasn't wearing a thong. Right here in front
of everyone. I'm not wearing a thong, Mister Cole, she says,
suddenly loud enough to carry.

Addison Cuyahoga, says Mister Cole, but she just keeps going,
quietly again, And then, she says, my father's going to sue the
school for sexual harassment. Quietly. Mister Cole eyes wide in
red face over dark blue shirt leans in closer still. Frowning.
And you'll get fired and have to move away and you'll never ever
get to work for a school system again.

Her hand lifting the bottom of her kilt.

Mister Cole, tongue flickering between his lips, raises his hand.
Enough. You just - don't come to school dressed like that again,
young lady. You hear me?

I'll wear whatever the fuck I want to wear, she says, quietly, as
he stalks away.

Sorry about your dick! hoots Edie.

What time is it, asks Addison, not turning around.

Twenty past, says Edie. Why?

Because I'm not wearing a thong. Quietly.

What? Oh -

The green metal bathroom stall rattles and thumps. Plum-jeaned
legs and white-socked legs inside stand braced in the front left
corner, one white-socked foot still in a black Mary Jane beside a
narrow dark grey cowboy boot, the other white-socked foot kicked
free and planted on its heel, toes curling, sock sole grubby with
old dirt. Harsh pants stagger over a steady susurrus of oh yes,
oh baby, come on, come on, you can do it, you can, oh yes, oh.
Edie leaning in the corner eyes closed her arms so tight about
Addison, murmuring, oh, oh yes. Addison her back to Edie legs
spread arms wide-braced fingers splayed against either green
metal wall. Kilt hiked up about bare hips. Edie's one hand braced
on her bare thigh, helping it up and out, the other deep within,
two fingers glisten jigging fast, her palm against blond pubic
hair. Addison's jaw set grunting breaths, eyes wide, fixed
angrily on some thing that isn't there. Oh. Oh, yes. Come on.
Come on, oh, baby.

The elevator dings and tick-clock tock-click comes Vanessa
Cuyahoga into the penthouse lobby. The receptionist a startled
look on his face holds up one hand as she ticks past Excuse me,
but she waves and smiles, I'll show myself back, thanks. Ma'am?
You can't -

Dandridge Stoat sits before the glass-topped desk in his office.
He has white hair a little too long and one hand on the earbead
of a telephone headset pressed into his ear. You can't do that,
he says. You can't do that. They'll gift-wrap your ass and hand
it back to you. Vannessa strides in, heels suddenly soft on the
Turkish rug. Lemme call you back. He tosses the headset on the
desk, next to a file folder. You're early.

I'm horny, says Vanessa, unbuttoning the first button of her
coatdress.

Sir? says the receptionist, poking his head through the doorway.

It's okay, says Dandridge, as Vanessa unbuttons the second
button. The receptionist, eyebrow shrugging, pulls the door
closed.

He's new, says Vanessa, unbuttoning the third button.

Dandridge shrugs.

He's cute, says Vanessa.

I don't really have time for this, says Dandridge.

What is it with people not having time for sex today? says
Vanessa, unbuttoning the fourth button and letting the open
coatdress fall from her shoulders along her arms away from her
hips down her legs to the floor. Addison tried to weasel out this
morning by claiming of all things that she had to go to school.
School! Her tits bounce in the shelf of that austerely merry
widow as she takes another step, hips sloshing to rub one
stockinged thigh against the other with an all-too audible zip.

Addison, says Dandridge.

Can you believe it? Stepping between Dandrige and his desk
Vanessa hikes her bared ass back on the rounded edge of the glass
desk and plants one aggressively minimalist shoe and then another
to either side of his knees. She fucks her best friend at the
drop of a skirt, but her own mother she doesn't have time for.

I have told you, says Dandridge, repeatedly, that I could not
care less about the compromising details of your dalliances with
your, but he stops as Vanessa takes his bearded chin in her hand,
her finger curling about the edge of his salt-and-pepper Van
Dyke, her thumb against his stilled lips. Bullshit, she says.
Bullshit. I know how much you like to play the prude.

Vanessa -

Shh, she says, pressing his lips firmly with her thumb as her
other hand tugs open the button of his jeans. I wasn't finished.
Because then I met Yusuf for racquetball -

And did you remember to discuss the Ledbetter Division with him?

Vanessa leaning forward elbows between her upthrust knees thighs
spread smiling. I would have, she said, but Sam interrupted me
before I could finish sucking his dick. Jerking the fly of his
jeans open, the zipper roughly loud.

Vanessa -

And she wanted to pick a fight and then she couldn't be bothered
to stick around for make-up sex. We have great make-up sex.
Dandridge's cock loose and flabby yet she rolls along her
fingers, nails deeply glossy red. Amazing make-up sex. It's why
we fight. But she didn't have time, she said, says Vanessa. No
time.

Really, says Dandridge. One eyebrow cocked.

No wonder, says Vanessa, rolling his swelling cock, I'm so
fucking horny.

Sitting forward a little Dandridge takes the hem of his pullover
in his hands and lifts it up and off and tosses it into the
corner. Vanessa chuckling runs her fingers through crisp grey
hairs sprinkled across his chest. Oh yes, she says.

Stand up, says Dandridge. Stand up.

Her feet falling one and another to the carpet silent standing up
as he pushes his chair back standing. Leaning in to each other as
they kiss tongues to lips. His hand between her thighs. You are,
he says. Wet. Turn around.

She chuckles.

Turn around, he says, and bend over. You see that folder?

Vanessa turns around her back to him as his hands one two settle
on her hips. Open it up, he says, one hand now stroking his cock,
his jeans sliding to catch about his spread thighs, the other
hand dipping between her thighs. I want your cock, says Vanessa.
Not your fingers.

Open it, says Dandridge. Stroking his cock with that other hand
whose fingers shine a little now in the light. I want you to do
something useful before you waste the rest of my afternoon.

Is it such a waste? What the hell is this?

The easement I told you about. I need you to sign it where the
little flag is. Think you can manage that?

Just get a goddamn rubber on and fuck me already - Jesus! What -

Grunting the heels of his hands on her hips thumbs digging into
the meat there spreading opening Dandridge shoves the next inch
of himself into Vanessa's ass. The table shakes. Jesus.

I don't need a goddamn rubber, says Dandridge. Vanessa's hands
squeak against the glass as he pushes again and her mouth open in
a snarl has squeezed her eyes tight shut oh Jesus fuck, oh fuck.
Goddamn you fucking that hurts, fuck -

One hand on the back of her neck fingers tangled in her hair
Dandridge does not smile. I should stop, then? he says, still.

Growling she jerks back against him her ass slamming home against
his hips, fuck! Just fuck. Do it. Do me. Now. Fuck. Jerking her
head around to glare at him. Top teeth biting her bottom lip.

Sign the easement, says Dandridge. Still.

Vanessa takes a deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the
nose. Lets go her lip and smiles, almost. Reaches for the phone.
How do I, how do I punch up reception? she says. I need a pen. I
need a cute pen.

He's gay, says Dandridge.

What?

Eric's gay.

Well. Fuck. I still need a pen. I can't sign the fucking thing
without a pen.

Rocking back a little so that an inch or two of himself slides
out and then pushing his hips forward, ah. Vanessa hands planted
on the glass lets her head hang down her hair brushing the
easement. Dandridge reaches for the phone, punches an intercom
line.

Yes? says the phone.

Melissa, it's Dan. I've got Mrs. Cuyahoga in my office, she'd
like to see you - it could be an hour or so of consultation,
short notice, I know, but -

Vanessa Cuyahoga? says the phone.

The very same, says Dandridge.

Ten seconds, says the phone.

Bring a pen, says Dandridge Stoat.

The roof is flat and black and scattered with tarry gravel and
Alexandra Cuyahoga in a blue thong and yellow baby tee steps
carefully with eyes down and flip-flopped feet. Just back from
the edge she spreads a big towel out and kneels on it and lays
out a battered paperback book and a slim white laptop and a small
yellow vibrator not much thicker than her finger. Still looking
down at the towel she kicks off the flip-flops one and again.
Still looking down she takes a deep breath. Lifting her head she
lifts the hem of her shirt and peels it off. Her hair falls down
over bared nipples that tremble with yet another deep breath.

Below by the small Bobcat earth-mover shirtless Timo Lappalainen
licked with thin mud made of dust and sweat his belly drawing a
hard clean rippling V the vertex buried somewhere in his battered
jeans, Timo lapping sweat with the back of one workgloved hand
from his squinted eye, Timo tosses a pair of goggles and ear
protectors to the ground and grins at his shirtless brother Marko
in a pair of shapeless pants the color of bone-dry dirt and old
grease, Marko Lappalainen squatting by the cooler, Marko tossing
up a green glass bottle of beer that catches the sunlight.
Neither of them looks up past the hole cut in the slope past the
sweeping stone stairs past the upper patio past the sliding glass
wall past the edge of the roof to see Alexandra taking one more
deep breath and leaning forward on her elbows and laying her
belly against the towel and looking down at them.

Timo drains half his beer in three swallows one after another.

Marko says something.

Timo says something.

Marko laughs and opens the cooler again and says something as he
fishes out another beer.

Timo laughs and says something and laughs some more.

Alexandra who is not looking at the towel and not looking at the
book and not looking at the computer and not looking at the
vibrator leans her weight on one elbow and reaches back with her
other hand to hold in her fingertips there the narrow swell of
her buttock framed left bare by thin flat blue strips of thong.

Timo says something and Marko leaps to his feet grinning one bare
hand gesturing, come on, come on. Timo shakes his head. Marko
sets one foot in front of the other shuffle a little in the khaki
dust wipes his hair back hands up loose and open and again: come
on. Come on. Timo shakes his head no, no which is a feint that
turns into a charge and laughing Marko is bowled over into the
dry grass.

Alexandra lifts the small yellow vibrator to her lips and licks
it slides it partway into her mouth and her cheeks purse as her
lips slip around it and then she pulls it out and pushes it back
in again her other hand still on her ass her feet are sliding
apart as her legs spread.

Timo is on his back Marko sitting atop him dodging a kick ducking
a blow his hands fighting to hold Timo's other hand above his
head pinned to the ground. Resting on her belly shoulders up head
craned Alexandra reaches back with the vibrator and closes her
eyes. Her one hand busy forefinger crooked to hook the strap of
thong up and out to one side as her thumb and middle finger brace
to peel apart her cheeks just enough that the other hand lightly
holding the vibrator by the middle can find by touch the pucker
of her ass spread open just enough so that the tip of the
vibrator -

Alexandra opens her eyes and she says under her breath Now, now,
now -

Marko on his feet one hand down to help Timo up, laughing.

Alexandra not looking over the edge of the roof any more one side
of her face laid flat on the towel oh, oh as her hand works the
vibrator in and out and in again, oh. Oh -

You know, says Addison Cuyahoga, standing there on the roof
behind her, still in her knee socks and kilt and blouse buttoned
once between her breasts, you turn that thing on, it's a lot more
fun -

Alexandra shrieks.

Vanessa Cuyahoga pours gin from a blue bottle into a tall glass
of ice as behind her Jackson says You were teasing her, dammit!

Whatever, says Addison, as Vanessa lifts the glass and ice
clinking drains half the gin down in a gulp. I get teased all the
time for liking girls. Nobody gives a crap about that.

We don't tease you, says Jackson, as Vanessa pours more gin. You
sister doesn't tease you, as Vanessa pours in tonic water.

Whatever, says Addison. Is that it? I mean, are we done?

Yes, says Vanessa, glass in hand, turning and stalking to the
kitchen table. We're done. Get out of here. Go fuck yourself, I
don't care.

Mom -

Get out. I'm pissed at you. Get out.

And up Addison gets tails of her blouse buttoned once fluttering
and out she goes, Mary Janes clomp-stomping. Fuck, says Jackson
still sitting at the table.

Is Sandy still sulking? says Vanessa.

She's been in her room all afternoon, says Jackson, pinching the
bridge of his nose. Vanessa -

She's got to learn how to deal with what happens when she does
this stuff in the open.

She was hardly in the open! She was up on the roof over the back
patio, out of sight. Addison climbed out the window and snuck up
on her -

Watching the brothers Finn, says Vanessa, smiling.

Vanessa. I still think she's too young -

Can't be helped, says Vanessa, shrugging. Genie's out of the lamp
now.

I know, says Jackson Cuyagoa. Frowning.

Alexandra Cuyahoga in white panties and yellow baby tee sits bare
legs crossed on her bed and as the footsteps tock-click
tick-clock down the hall she closes the laptop and sets it aside
and picks up the battered paperback and when Vanessa pushes open
her door and leans on the frame Alexandra does not look up from
it. The cover of the battered paperback shows a naked man dancing
in a moonlit forest clearing, long blond hair swirling as he
spins.

Good book? says Vanessa.

Sure, says Alexandra, not looking up.

How are things with Mister Tisdale? says Vanessa, cocking her
head back a little, a little smile licking her lips.

Okay, says Alexandra, not looking up. I guess.

If you want it to stop, says Vanessa, just stop. If he makes any
trouble at all - anything - just tell me.

Alexandra does not look up from her book.

But he knows better than to make any trouble, says Vanessa.

Alexandra shrugs.

I love you, baby, says Vanessa, after a moment.

Love you too, Mom, says Alexandra. Not looking up from her book.

And Vanessa pulls the door closed softly and leaves and after a
moment, and another, Alexandra sets the battered paperback aside
and picks up the laptop and opens it. She puts a finger to her
lips and then pinches them, absently. On the screen is the main
page of an internet search engine. She takes a deep breath. She
hits shift, and types a quotation mark. She types the word john.
She types the word cuyahoga. She hits shift and types another
question mark. She takes a deep breath, and presses enter.

Vanessa snaps her cell phone shut and lies back naked except for
charcoal thightop stockings ungartered now from the merry widow
curmpled empty on the white futon beside her.

Fuck, says Vanessa.

She closes her eyes.

Fuck! bellows Vanessa Cuyahoga.

She rolls off the futon and stands and stockinged feet whispering
over the wood floor walks to the windows and looks out over the
city glittering below in the darkness her arms crossed beneath
her breasts and she says nothing at all.

Mom?

Still in her short kilt her white blouse buttoned once between
her breasts her white socks over her knees her feet in black
thick-soled Mary Janes her short hair rumpled her eyes under
faintly frowning brows her lips parted just stands Addison in the
doorway stepping once, twice into the room, and again, Mom?

I thought I was mad at you, says Vanessa.

What's up, Mom? says Addison, shoes quiet as she stands still
halfway across the room.

I know I was mad at you, says Vanessa. Sighing. One hand dropping
to her side.

Talk to me, says Addison.

It's Sam, says Vanessa. She's being a cooze. Vanessa turns her
head to the side not quite looking at Addison. And you were being
a twit.

Addison looks down at the floor and says nothing.

Vanessa looks back out the window at the lights.

Do you love your mother? says Addison sing-song. The way I love
mine? Expecting nothing of her, 'cause she was changing all the
time...

Vanessa closes her eyes.

Do you feel your mother? says Addison, shoes quiet as she steps
across the room closer and closer. The way I feel mine? I tried
to change her nature, but now I like it, 'cause it's mine.

That is such a corny fucking song, says Vanessa, smiling ghostly
as Addison reaches around her hands on her bare belly and lies
her forehead on Vanessa's bare shoulder and presses her lips to
Vanessa's back.

And I let you love me up, sings Addison, quietly, her socked knee
brushing Vanessa's stockinged knee. And I let you bring me home.

That was your favorite song when you were a little girl, says
Vanessa, her hand on Addison's hand on her belly, as Addison's
other hand brushes bare thigh-flesh above one stocking.

And I could go away, sings Addison, quietly, but I don't wanna.

So don't, says Vanessa turning in Addison's embrace as Addison's
hands drift down to the small of her back and knot there pulling
Vanessa even closer.

I don't wanna be too smart, and I don't wanna talk too fast,
sings Addison.

So don't, says Vanessa, kissing her mouth as it opens to say I
don't wanna look -

And they kiss, and kiss again, and Vanessa chuckles as her hands
slip under Addison's kilt, and they kiss again. I don't wanna
look too precious, sings Addison, breathily, as Vanessa kisses
her cheek, her ear, licks her throat, hands busy under Addison's
kilt. There's always complications, weird vibrations - unh, oh -
Her hands coming up behind Vanessa's head as Vanessa catches her
mouth in another hungry kiss, Addison's legs spreading one foot
lifting as Vanessa's hips shift to the side and one hand tugging
aside the front flap of the kilt dives in to find Addison's cunt.
Clumsy steps back toward the futon, one Mary Jane clattering off,
white sock sliding on the wood floor, stockinged feet slip
whispering as Addison's hands squeeze Vanessa's shoulder,
Vanessa's back, Vanessa's ass, Vanessa's thigh.

Do you love your mother? sings Addison, stepping back as Vanessa
unbuttons the single button and tugs her shirt open. 'Cause God,
I love mine, a giggle as Vanessa bends to lap up a nipple with
tongue and lips and teeth and Addison hissing, oh, in my dream
she let me love her, gotta hand it to my mind -

Oh, no, says Vanessa, sit down. Sit down, says Vanessa, as one
hand back Addison drops to the futon kilt rucked up about her
hips shirt falling from her bare shoulders legs spread cunt
shining smiling, sit down, says Vanessa and shut up. I'm going to
make someone scream and it might as well be you, kneeling on the
floor hands splitting Addison's thighs further apart rolling up
and back her white-socked feet in the air giggling as Vanessa
licks her cunt open and digs in. Gasping. Lying back. Oh, fuck.
Oh. Oh - Hands reaching above her head to grab the other edge of
the futon tightly elbows in the air, oh, fuck come on come on
come on. One hand lets loose to flop about for something as the
other kuckles white and then up comes Addison's hand face shining
groaning, there in her fingers a vibrator slim and simple,
mother-of-pearly pink, whorled with delicate white striations.
Oh, says Addison, oh Mom, fuck, oh -

                                                  ::
                                                  
                                            as falls cuyahoga,
                                      so falls cuyahoga falls
                                             an object lesson.010
                                                 
                                                          --n.
                                                  ::
                                                  
http://www.asstr.org/~nickurfe/
http://www.ruthiesclub.com/
nickurfe@yahoo.com

This story may be freely circulated by anyone, anytime, anywhere.
"Carry Me" by Sophie B. Hawkins.

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