There's a 1st Time...(FF Slash, I/S, Adult) (Complete)
Posted: Sun Mar 27, 2005 2:39 am
Winner - Round 7
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Title: “There’s a First Time for Everything…” First in the "Lipstick Abduction Series"
Author: femmenerd aka Lucia
Pairing: Isabel and Serena/Sarah – Serena POV
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell. Not making any dollars off this.
Summary: This is a prequel tag to my Awakened Dreamer story Second Chances (in which I/S is a secondary couple). The second story in this prequel series of Isabel/Serena one parters is called Dance With Me. You do not need to read Second Chances to understand this one however it contains some spoilers for that fic (the main one of which lies in the way that the pairing is listed, so oh well). SC, and thus this fic as well, follows canon up to but not including “Chant Down Babylon.” This is the story of how the two women meet. It is set in NYC several years after the end of Season 3. Isabel is divorced from Jesse. She is roommates with Liz and owns a successful beauty salon. One day a beautiful but bashful brunette comes into the shop and catches Isabel’s eye.
Author’s note: This fic is for TrueLovePooh whose sweet stargazer heart manages to ship Isabel/Serena as well. It is both my first attempt at first person POV and of a story that does not have Liz, Max, or Zan as primary characters so hopefully it turned out OK.
Your love is better than ice cream
better than anything else that I've tried
and your love is better than ice cream
everyone here knows how to fight
and it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from
Your love is better than chocolate
better than anything else that I've tried
oh love is better than chocolate
everyone here knows how to cry
it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from...
-Sarah McLachlan
She is simply the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She may have been a princess back on Antar, but here on earth, she’s a goddess, I tell you.
I couldn’t help but be curious about her so against my better judgment I got myself an appointment at her salon, the uber-fabulous “Trix.” I never would have been able to get an appointment but my boss at the restaurant has connections.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I walked into the place. I’ll admit it – I’m kind of shy. And I don’t exactly consider myself to be “hip” either so I was more than a little intimidated by my surroundings. But ever since I got my first glimpse of her I was filled with this insane curiosity.
The first time I saw her was when she came to the restaurant where I’m a chef. She was seated at a table surrounded by a bunch of beautiful people, smiling and laughing. She seemed to be the center of the group, but not because she was being diva-like, simply because she glows…or something. She was wearing a crazy, strappy black dress and the kind of heels that require talent to wear properly. Her dark red hair was up in some kind of elaborate up do that looked complicated, yet on her seemed effortless - not overdone. Her lips were painted deep red and her eyes were shining.
In a flash, I knew who she was – I wasn’t trained as a telepath for nothing. Vilondra. A rush of mild panic swelled up inside me as my mind drifted towards thoughts of that faraway planet I no longer call home. I wear a human face and bear a human name – Serena of Antar has become Sarah of Queens. You would think that I wouldn’t want any more reminders of that brutal place I left behind but there is something about her that seems to attract me like the moth to the flame.
So here I am, clutching my bag and smiling hesitantly at the front desk. The receptionist asks me, “Do you have an appointment?” I sweep my eyes around the room, taking in the décor – everything is red: satiny and red, shiny and red, red, red. It’s quite a sight to see.
“Huh?” I say to the girl behind the desk. “I mean, yes, I have an appointment at 6, with um, Nancy?”
“Is your name Sarah?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“Well, that’s weird. I see your name written down here but Nancy’s gone for the day. Crap!”
I open my mouth to speak but am struck dumb by the presence of Isabel strolling over when she hears the girl’s exclamation.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asks the girl, shooting me a full wattage grin.
“Something got screwed up and she has an appointment for a cut but Nancy is gone and all of the other stylists are busy.”
“Well then I guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. You know, pull my own weight around here. It’s no problem. I can do it.” She smiles at me once again as she leads me to a rack of smocks.
“Wow, thanks,” is all I can muster up to say.
She waves a perfectly manicured hand in front of her face and says, “Don’t sweat it. You came to get your hair done and that’s what you’re gonna get, ‘K?”
I look up at her shyly from underneath my eyelashes as I put on the smock she holds out to me.
Her heels click against the floor as she leads me to the sink. As she washes my hair I find myself babbling in a way that is totally uncharacteristic for me. I tell her about my job at the restaurant and how I love food and cooking. I even tell her about my secret wish to be a food writer – to be able to express how I feel about the artistry and sensuality of cooking. She listens and responds at all the right times. There is something about her that makes me want to tell her these things and I keep on talking as she dries my hair with a towel, her touch gentle and soothing. She tells me about how this shop is the culmination of one of her biggest ambitions, how she feels like her job does actually serve a purpose if it makes people feel better about themselves. I wonder to myself if maybe it’s also just being in her presence that makes people feel good.
Finally, she swings the chair around to face the mirror. “Tada!” She puts her hands on her hips as she watches me look myself over in the reflection.
“Wow!” I say, somewhat taken aback. “I look…I look…”
“You look fabulous is what you look like.” Then she bends closer to me and whispers in my ear, “and only part of that is because I’m a genius with scissors.” I can feel myself blushing as I feel her breath against my ear. An unfamiliar heat is rising to my face. What is this? I’ve never felt this way before.
I take my hand to my newly layered locks. Isabel threads her fingers through the length of my long black hair, eyeing it appreciatively. “You really do have gorgeous hair. Wigmakers would kill for this stuff.” Looking back up at me she suddenly says, “Hey, I have an idea. Me and a couple of the other girls are going out now for some drinks. Wanna take out your new look for a test drive?”
A lump forms in my throat but I force it down enough to get out, “Um yeah, that would be fun.” I feel like a big dork – I’m so surprised that she asked me, but Isabel acts like it’s no big deal.
*****
Walking behind her I watch the way that she walks, the purposefulness of her gait showing her to be someone with self confidence. Her hips swing in her tight fitting jeans. She’s wearing a deep red off-the-shoulder sweater and even though her outfit is simple, she looks like a supermodel to me. I look down at my own slender form and am acutely aware of the difference between us in terms of curves. I’ve always been skinny, slender if you’re being nice I suppose. She turns around as we get to the entrance of the bar and holds out her hand to me, pulling me into the doorway both with her hand and with the magnetic pull that is Isabel Evans. We gather around the bar with her friends, who are all nice to me, but I still feel nervous. The bartender obviously knows them; upon sight of Isabel he hollers, “Hey Isabel I got your virgin Cosmo coming right up. When are you gonna finally relent and go out with me?”
Isabel tosses her head and smirks. “In your dreams Brian, and get this young lady whatever she wants. Put it on my tab. “
“You don’t drink?” I say, even though I know that the hybrids have a low tolerance for alcohol.
“Mmm, no, not really. But don’t let that stop you from getting whatever you want. What do you want anyway?”
There is something about the tone in her voice when she says that that makes my stomach fill with the proverbial butterflies.
“Ah, I’ll have a Manhattan thanks,” I say.
“Hey Brian, mix up a Manhattan, and don’t overdo it with the bitters, she’s a foodie.”
After the drinks come I clutch my glass like a security blanket as Isabel and the other women laugh and chat. She catches my eye periodically and the phantom butterflies continue to have a party in my midsection. One that definitely doesn’t let up once she goes to play pool. Sitting on the bar stool with my second Manhattan in my hand, I watch as she proceeds to beat the pants off some college boy who is obviously more than a little distracted by his glamorous opponent.
I am so preoccupied with watching her that I hardly notice him sidle up next to me. It is a definitively unpleasant experience when I realize that some drunken fool is breathing down my neck, smelling of Heineken and too much bad cologne.
“Hey pretty lady,” he slurs into my ear as I wiggle away from him.
He doesn’t take the hint and proceeds to move closer to me. “What’s yer name? Wanna come home wif me?” He laughs as if he has just said something hilarious.
“I’m sorry but…” I start to say but he interrupts me.
“What? You too good for me, huh? Is that it?” The smell of his sour breath is making me ill.
But before I know it, Isabel arrives, pool cue in hand, to rescue me.
“Hey buddy.” She taps him on the shoulder. “Lay off my girlfriend why don’t you.” Her words are cold, with more than a hint of malice. Although she may look soft at first glance, it is clear now that there is a rod of iron running straight through her – she’s that fierce and strong.
“What, you wanna join us?” he says, seemingly unaware of the daggers her eyes are shooting in his direction.
She moves quickly and the next thing I know I am enveloped in her arms. She dips me slightly and I can feel her soft lips pressing against mine. She pulls back but keeps her arms around me protectively, “This is a party that you aren’t invited to big guy. Now walk away.” Her voice is commanding and he is clearly unnerved as he walks away.
“Fuckin’ bitch lesbian,” he mutters under his breath as he heads for the door.
“I’d rather be a lesbian than a drunk loser like you,” she shouts after him. Once he is gone, she slowly lets me go, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Um, sorry about that.” Her eyes look at me questioningly.
“Thank you,” I breathe, my head still swimming from the kiss. I’ve never kissed a girl before. What does this mean?
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” She winks at me and it might be the sexiest thing I have ever seen.
The rest of the evening remains trauma free and I am reluctant to leave when we get up to go. Will I ever see her again? What should I do? What should I say?
I am relieved when she is the one to ask me for my number. “I’ll call you when I get back from my vacation. I’m going home to Roswell for a visit with my roommate Liz and her son who is also my nephew,” she laughs wryly. “It’s complicated. You know – family.”
I nod, feeling tongue tied but happy. Is it really possible that such an exotic creature can be from a small town like Roswell, New Mexico? Oh, I know that we’re both aliens and from a far more “exotic” place originally but right now I feel deliciously human. I’ve been here long enough that sometimes I can forget. Right now, I’m just a girl and she’s an even prettier girl.
*****
My hands are shaking as I approach the door and knock. I couldn’t believe it when she actually did call me a week later. So now I’m standing here in front of her door, wearing the fifth in a succession of outfits that I tried on and rejected, fidgeting in front of the mirror. I finally decided on a pair of jeans and a black top, figuring that at least then I wouldn’t embarrass myself - besides we’re just going to the movies. All the same, I’d like to impress her. Where is this coming from? I wonder to myself as I wait, hearing footfalls on the other side of the door.
She opens the door quickly and with gusto, smiling up at me as she works to fix the strappy heel of a pair of stiletto sandals. She’s wearing a short black skirt and top with a red scarf, red clearly being her signature color. “Welcome to our home,” she says with an exaggerated hand gesture. “The other occupants are already at the movies watching some kind of computer animated kid’s movie. I love that kid, but I swear; I’m glad to be going to watch a grown up movie for a change.”
I smile at her bashfully, “Um thanks for inviting me.” My eyes scan the room. This is definitely a female lair. Although there are signs here and there of her nephew Max, the place is definitely a woman space, what with the warm colors and knick knacks. It’s actually a lot homier than I would have expected from her but then I don’t know what I expected the living quarters of a hybrid Amazon goddess to look like.
“Do you want a drink or anything? We have water, juice; I think Liz has a bottle of wine open. Do you drink red? I mean it’s probably not like what you’re used to at the restaurant or anything but…”
I nod yes. “That would be nice.” Maybe it will help calm my nerves.
She quickly runs into the kitchen, heels clicking, the scent of her perfume subtly clinging to the air. She’s hardly gone for a minute when she comes back bearing a glass of wine which she puts in my grateful hands.
“Thanks,” I say, looking into her eyes nervously.
“No problem,” she says. “If it’s OK with you I’m going to duck into my room real quick. I’ll be ready in a minute, I promise.”
I nod.
Once she’s left the room, I walk over to the mantle where there are pictures displayed in a variety of thrift shop frames. Coming to an image of Isabel as a teenager with long flowing blonde hair, I stop to examine it more closely. Even then she was stunning.
I take a few sips of my wine, hoping that it will give me the liquid courage I have the feeling I may need.
I’m startled slightly when she comes back into the room and walks up behind me. She scrunches up her face when she sees what I’m looking at. “Aw geez,” she says. “That picture. Liz put it up there.”
“You look beautiful,” I say without thinking. “You must have been, like the prom queen or something. You know, dated the captain of the football team and all.”
She laughs a beautiful, musical laugh. “Actually, my first love was the sweetest, skinny computer nerd that there ever was.” Her voice is a little wistful.
“Oh,” I say. I see another stack of photos haphazardly placed on the mantle as well. In the top one I see Isabel smiling into the camera with a small brown-haired woman and a pretty blonde with wild spiky hair. I point to the photo and ask, “Is one of those people Liz?”
“Yeah, the one on the left is Liz. The other one is Tracey, my ex,” she says casually but I can see the way that her eyes are looking at me to gauge my reaction to her comment.
“She’s very pretty. They…they both are,” I stammer.
Another sip of wine and I have the courage to ask the question I’ve been wondering about since last week.
“Um, are you only attracted to women or do you like, still sleep with men and stuff too?” I can’t believe how forward I’m being but she takes it all in stride.
She looks right at me as she says, “I’m attracted to beautiful people Sarah, and I think that you are beautiful.”
I gulp. “So, are we on a date right now?” I ask, wondering if I’m doing a good job of concealing the mixture of hope and confusion in my voice.
“Do you want us to be on a date?” she asks softly.
I take a deep breathe and admit the truth. “Yes, I think so. Yes.”
She smiles and takes my arm. “Then let’s go out.”
*****
It’s been a week since our first (or was it the second?) “date” and I’ve had my head in the clouds the whole time. We held hands at the movies and I felt like a giddy teenager. Honestly I hardly even remember what the movie was about, all I was conscious of was her nearness – her sweet, spicy scent, how soft her hand felt in mine, the way our knees were touching every so slightly.
We went to a coffee shop and ate cake and drank lattes, talking for hours about our dreams and hopes. I know she doesn’t know *who* I am but still I feel like she saw me – I felt like I was really being seen for the first time in my life.
When she walked me to my doorstep, I felt the tension build up with every footfall. Before we could even get all of the way up the steps, I swung around with a sudden jolt of courage. “Isabel?”
“Yes,” she said, sounding a little surprised at the urgency in my voice.
“I have to kiss you.”
She chuckled. “Well if you have to…”
My lips interrupted hers. Had I gone mad? A tiny voice screeched in my head, only to be drowned out by the pounding of my heart as I felt her lips move against mine.
Her lips were as soft and full as I remembered from the brief rescue kiss in the bar the week before. But this time the kiss deepened quickly. I felt my tongue bathed in her sweet breath. I caught her luscious lower lip in between my teeth lightly, teasing her as well as myself. Every part of my body was screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as I felt myself get lost in the delicious taste of her. Nothing had every felt so right or as incredibly exciting as the feel of her girl lips against mine with her arms around my waist, my hands holding onto the sides of her face for dear life. Her skin felt silky and welcoming in a way that scratchy man stubble never had for me.
When the kiss finally ended – I have no idea how long we were standing there out in the night air, making out like high school students on my front stoop – she stroked my cheek with her fingers as her lips turned up into a smile.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, sexy Sarah.” And then she flitted off, tossing her head to grin at me before hailing the first cab that came by – really, who could possibly ignore her? When her cab was finally out of sight, I finally allowed myself to let out a squeal. Covering my mouth with my hands, I stomped on the ground, trying to find some way to release the excess energy coursing through my veins.
Coming back to the here and now, I shake my head of these delicious memories, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. She’s coming over for dinner any minute and I still have to put the finishing touches on the meal.
*****
I watch entranced as she takes the last bite of her piece of the chocolate hazelnut torte I made especially for the occasion, having heard her mention how much she loves chocolate the other night. Her eyes close as she swallows. “Mmmm, that was amazing. Better than sex…almost,” she adds that last word after a beat and I can feel myself flush at the implication in her words.
Her eyelids flutter open and I keep staring at her intently – I can’t keep my eyes off her. The way that she licks her lips is making me crazy. I want her so much but I’m incredibly nervous. What if I’m a disappointment? What if I don’t know what to do?
But then she crawls over to where I’m sitting across the floor from her. We ate dinner picnic style on the floor and the candles that I set up are bathing her face in flickering light as she moves closer and closer to me. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as she advances, but I feel frozen to the spot. Frozen until she kisses me and I melt into a puddle in her arms.
As the kiss deepens I feel my body react, flooding with liquid heat as her hands move under my shirt, making electric contact with the skin on my back.
I can’t think; I can only respond by touching her tentatively, testing the waters. She moans into my mouth as my hand creeps up her abdomen, coming closer and closer to the swell of her breasts. Dispelling my hesitation she raises her other hand to stroke my breast over the soft material of my shirt. My breathing becomes ragged when her fingers graze my nipple, standing at attention against my shirt. I’m not wearing a bra. I don’t really need to as my breasts are relatively small and generally seem to hold themselves up just fine. Looking into my eyes as if asking for permission, she slowly moves her hand under my shirt, reaching for my naked skin. I can’t help but gasp when she circles the sensitive skin of my nipple with her index finger.
I look up at her amazed by the way that the slightest touch of her hand sets me aflame. Before I know it I am lifting my arms over my head as she gently pulls my shirt over my head. Sitting there wearing only my skirt and underwear with my bare chest exposed to her eyes I feel amazingly wild and free. Even though I am in a somewhat vulnerable position, I feel oddly safe – I know that I am in good hands.
And what good hands they are! I close my eyes and get swept along by the tide of her expert caresses. She lowers her beautiful lips to my breast and as she suckles me I feel a deep pang of longing in my core. She seems to sense my need and her fingers graze the inside of my thigh as she hikes up my skirt. I feel myself becoming wetter than I have ever been in my life as her hand comes closer to my pussy. She kisses me on the lips once more; my tongue comes out to meet hers, knowing that she will taste my desire as an aperitif to the chocolate.
I am trembling like a leaf as her fingers come into contact with the dripping cotton of my panties. She gently strokes me through the crotch of my underwear until I whimper for more.
She makes a trail of kisses down my front as her fingers loop under the elastic waistband of my panties, pulling them off quickly and letting them drop to the floor. I watch with fascination as her kisses move up the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. As she kneels over me I can see the tops of her breasts threatening to spill out of her tank top.
I can feel her warm breath on me and I sigh with anticipation. When her tongue begins to lap my clit, I feel myself tremble even more than I thought was possible. She continues to lick and suck my clit as she reaches inside my opening quickly finding the sensitive bundle of nerves inside.
My pulse races and I look down in wonder at the sight of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen lapping up my pussy like it is a treasure, a treat. Waves of pleasure rocket through me, filling my body and emptying out through my mouth as I moan. I let go completely as she coaxes me to orgasm – for the first time.
As the tremors racking my body subside she comes back up to kiss me. Her mouth tastes of chocolate and sex and sweetness. I sigh contentedly as she strokes my hair. I feel beautiful wrapped up in the tenderness and passion of her touch. But then a pang of worry enters my mind.
“Isabel?” I say softly.
“Yes,” her voice is husky yet sweet.
“I…I don’t know how to do it to you.”
She smiles at me. “Don’t worry about it Sarah. I’ll show you.” And then I’m lost in her kisses once again.
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Title: “There’s a First Time for Everything…” First in the "Lipstick Abduction Series"
Author: femmenerd aka Lucia
Pairing: Isabel and Serena/Sarah – Serena POV
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell. Not making any dollars off this.
Summary: This is a prequel tag to my Awakened Dreamer story Second Chances (in which I/S is a secondary couple). The second story in this prequel series of Isabel/Serena one parters is called Dance With Me. You do not need to read Second Chances to understand this one however it contains some spoilers for that fic (the main one of which lies in the way that the pairing is listed, so oh well). SC, and thus this fic as well, follows canon up to but not including “Chant Down Babylon.” This is the story of how the two women meet. It is set in NYC several years after the end of Season 3. Isabel is divorced from Jesse. She is roommates with Liz and owns a successful beauty salon. One day a beautiful but bashful brunette comes into the shop and catches Isabel’s eye.
Author’s note: This fic is for TrueLovePooh whose sweet stargazer heart manages to ship Isabel/Serena as well. It is both my first attempt at first person POV and of a story that does not have Liz, Max, or Zan as primary characters so hopefully it turned out OK.
Your love is better than ice cream
better than anything else that I've tried
and your love is better than ice cream
everyone here knows how to fight
and it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from
Your love is better than chocolate
better than anything else that I've tried
oh love is better than chocolate
everyone here knows how to cry
it's a long way down
it's a long way down
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from...
-Sarah McLachlan
She is simply the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She may have been a princess back on Antar, but here on earth, she’s a goddess, I tell you.
I couldn’t help but be curious about her so against my better judgment I got myself an appointment at her salon, the uber-fabulous “Trix.” I never would have been able to get an appointment but my boss at the restaurant has connections.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I walked into the place. I’ll admit it – I’m kind of shy. And I don’t exactly consider myself to be “hip” either so I was more than a little intimidated by my surroundings. But ever since I got my first glimpse of her I was filled with this insane curiosity.
The first time I saw her was when she came to the restaurant where I’m a chef. She was seated at a table surrounded by a bunch of beautiful people, smiling and laughing. She seemed to be the center of the group, but not because she was being diva-like, simply because she glows…or something. She was wearing a crazy, strappy black dress and the kind of heels that require talent to wear properly. Her dark red hair was up in some kind of elaborate up do that looked complicated, yet on her seemed effortless - not overdone. Her lips were painted deep red and her eyes were shining.
In a flash, I knew who she was – I wasn’t trained as a telepath for nothing. Vilondra. A rush of mild panic swelled up inside me as my mind drifted towards thoughts of that faraway planet I no longer call home. I wear a human face and bear a human name – Serena of Antar has become Sarah of Queens. You would think that I wouldn’t want any more reminders of that brutal place I left behind but there is something about her that seems to attract me like the moth to the flame.
So here I am, clutching my bag and smiling hesitantly at the front desk. The receptionist asks me, “Do you have an appointment?” I sweep my eyes around the room, taking in the décor – everything is red: satiny and red, shiny and red, red, red. It’s quite a sight to see.
“Huh?” I say to the girl behind the desk. “I mean, yes, I have an appointment at 6, with um, Nancy?”
“Is your name Sarah?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“Well, that’s weird. I see your name written down here but Nancy’s gone for the day. Crap!”
I open my mouth to speak but am struck dumb by the presence of Isabel strolling over when she hears the girl’s exclamation.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asks the girl, shooting me a full wattage grin.
“Something got screwed up and she has an appointment for a cut but Nancy is gone and all of the other stylists are busy.”
“Well then I guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. You know, pull my own weight around here. It’s no problem. I can do it.” She smiles at me once again as she leads me to a rack of smocks.
“Wow, thanks,” is all I can muster up to say.
She waves a perfectly manicured hand in front of her face and says, “Don’t sweat it. You came to get your hair done and that’s what you’re gonna get, ‘K?”
I look up at her shyly from underneath my eyelashes as I put on the smock she holds out to me.
Her heels click against the floor as she leads me to the sink. As she washes my hair I find myself babbling in a way that is totally uncharacteristic for me. I tell her about my job at the restaurant and how I love food and cooking. I even tell her about my secret wish to be a food writer – to be able to express how I feel about the artistry and sensuality of cooking. She listens and responds at all the right times. There is something about her that makes me want to tell her these things and I keep on talking as she dries my hair with a towel, her touch gentle and soothing. She tells me about how this shop is the culmination of one of her biggest ambitions, how she feels like her job does actually serve a purpose if it makes people feel better about themselves. I wonder to myself if maybe it’s also just being in her presence that makes people feel good.
Finally, she swings the chair around to face the mirror. “Tada!” She puts her hands on her hips as she watches me look myself over in the reflection.
“Wow!” I say, somewhat taken aback. “I look…I look…”
“You look fabulous is what you look like.” Then she bends closer to me and whispers in my ear, “and only part of that is because I’m a genius with scissors.” I can feel myself blushing as I feel her breath against my ear. An unfamiliar heat is rising to my face. What is this? I’ve never felt this way before.
I take my hand to my newly layered locks. Isabel threads her fingers through the length of my long black hair, eyeing it appreciatively. “You really do have gorgeous hair. Wigmakers would kill for this stuff.” Looking back up at me she suddenly says, “Hey, I have an idea. Me and a couple of the other girls are going out now for some drinks. Wanna take out your new look for a test drive?”
A lump forms in my throat but I force it down enough to get out, “Um yeah, that would be fun.” I feel like a big dork – I’m so surprised that she asked me, but Isabel acts like it’s no big deal.
*****
Walking behind her I watch the way that she walks, the purposefulness of her gait showing her to be someone with self confidence. Her hips swing in her tight fitting jeans. She’s wearing a deep red off-the-shoulder sweater and even though her outfit is simple, she looks like a supermodel to me. I look down at my own slender form and am acutely aware of the difference between us in terms of curves. I’ve always been skinny, slender if you’re being nice I suppose. She turns around as we get to the entrance of the bar and holds out her hand to me, pulling me into the doorway both with her hand and with the magnetic pull that is Isabel Evans. We gather around the bar with her friends, who are all nice to me, but I still feel nervous. The bartender obviously knows them; upon sight of Isabel he hollers, “Hey Isabel I got your virgin Cosmo coming right up. When are you gonna finally relent and go out with me?”
Isabel tosses her head and smirks. “In your dreams Brian, and get this young lady whatever she wants. Put it on my tab. “
“You don’t drink?” I say, even though I know that the hybrids have a low tolerance for alcohol.
“Mmm, no, not really. But don’t let that stop you from getting whatever you want. What do you want anyway?”
There is something about the tone in her voice when she says that that makes my stomach fill with the proverbial butterflies.
“Ah, I’ll have a Manhattan thanks,” I say.
“Hey Brian, mix up a Manhattan, and don’t overdo it with the bitters, she’s a foodie.”
After the drinks come I clutch my glass like a security blanket as Isabel and the other women laugh and chat. She catches my eye periodically and the phantom butterflies continue to have a party in my midsection. One that definitely doesn’t let up once she goes to play pool. Sitting on the bar stool with my second Manhattan in my hand, I watch as she proceeds to beat the pants off some college boy who is obviously more than a little distracted by his glamorous opponent.
I am so preoccupied with watching her that I hardly notice him sidle up next to me. It is a definitively unpleasant experience when I realize that some drunken fool is breathing down my neck, smelling of Heineken and too much bad cologne.
“Hey pretty lady,” he slurs into my ear as I wiggle away from him.
He doesn’t take the hint and proceeds to move closer to me. “What’s yer name? Wanna come home wif me?” He laughs as if he has just said something hilarious.
“I’m sorry but…” I start to say but he interrupts me.
“What? You too good for me, huh? Is that it?” The smell of his sour breath is making me ill.
But before I know it, Isabel arrives, pool cue in hand, to rescue me.
“Hey buddy.” She taps him on the shoulder. “Lay off my girlfriend why don’t you.” Her words are cold, with more than a hint of malice. Although she may look soft at first glance, it is clear now that there is a rod of iron running straight through her – she’s that fierce and strong.
“What, you wanna join us?” he says, seemingly unaware of the daggers her eyes are shooting in his direction.
She moves quickly and the next thing I know I am enveloped in her arms. She dips me slightly and I can feel her soft lips pressing against mine. She pulls back but keeps her arms around me protectively, “This is a party that you aren’t invited to big guy. Now walk away.” Her voice is commanding and he is clearly unnerved as he walks away.
“Fuckin’ bitch lesbian,” he mutters under his breath as he heads for the door.
“I’d rather be a lesbian than a drunk loser like you,” she shouts after him. Once he is gone, she slowly lets me go, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Um, sorry about that.” Her eyes look at me questioningly.
“Thank you,” I breathe, my head still swimming from the kiss. I’ve never kissed a girl before. What does this mean?
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” She winks at me and it might be the sexiest thing I have ever seen.
The rest of the evening remains trauma free and I am reluctant to leave when we get up to go. Will I ever see her again? What should I do? What should I say?
I am relieved when she is the one to ask me for my number. “I’ll call you when I get back from my vacation. I’m going home to Roswell for a visit with my roommate Liz and her son who is also my nephew,” she laughs wryly. “It’s complicated. You know – family.”
I nod, feeling tongue tied but happy. Is it really possible that such an exotic creature can be from a small town like Roswell, New Mexico? Oh, I know that we’re both aliens and from a far more “exotic” place originally but right now I feel deliciously human. I’ve been here long enough that sometimes I can forget. Right now, I’m just a girl and she’s an even prettier girl.
*****
My hands are shaking as I approach the door and knock. I couldn’t believe it when she actually did call me a week later. So now I’m standing here in front of her door, wearing the fifth in a succession of outfits that I tried on and rejected, fidgeting in front of the mirror. I finally decided on a pair of jeans and a black top, figuring that at least then I wouldn’t embarrass myself - besides we’re just going to the movies. All the same, I’d like to impress her. Where is this coming from? I wonder to myself as I wait, hearing footfalls on the other side of the door.
She opens the door quickly and with gusto, smiling up at me as she works to fix the strappy heel of a pair of stiletto sandals. She’s wearing a short black skirt and top with a red scarf, red clearly being her signature color. “Welcome to our home,” she says with an exaggerated hand gesture. “The other occupants are already at the movies watching some kind of computer animated kid’s movie. I love that kid, but I swear; I’m glad to be going to watch a grown up movie for a change.”
I smile at her bashfully, “Um thanks for inviting me.” My eyes scan the room. This is definitely a female lair. Although there are signs here and there of her nephew Max, the place is definitely a woman space, what with the warm colors and knick knacks. It’s actually a lot homier than I would have expected from her but then I don’t know what I expected the living quarters of a hybrid Amazon goddess to look like.
“Do you want a drink or anything? We have water, juice; I think Liz has a bottle of wine open. Do you drink red? I mean it’s probably not like what you’re used to at the restaurant or anything but…”
I nod yes. “That would be nice.” Maybe it will help calm my nerves.
She quickly runs into the kitchen, heels clicking, the scent of her perfume subtly clinging to the air. She’s hardly gone for a minute when she comes back bearing a glass of wine which she puts in my grateful hands.
“Thanks,” I say, looking into her eyes nervously.
“No problem,” she says. “If it’s OK with you I’m going to duck into my room real quick. I’ll be ready in a minute, I promise.”
I nod.
Once she’s left the room, I walk over to the mantle where there are pictures displayed in a variety of thrift shop frames. Coming to an image of Isabel as a teenager with long flowing blonde hair, I stop to examine it more closely. Even then she was stunning.
I take a few sips of my wine, hoping that it will give me the liquid courage I have the feeling I may need.
I’m startled slightly when she comes back into the room and walks up behind me. She scrunches up her face when she sees what I’m looking at. “Aw geez,” she says. “That picture. Liz put it up there.”
“You look beautiful,” I say without thinking. “You must have been, like the prom queen or something. You know, dated the captain of the football team and all.”
She laughs a beautiful, musical laugh. “Actually, my first love was the sweetest, skinny computer nerd that there ever was.” Her voice is a little wistful.
“Oh,” I say. I see another stack of photos haphazardly placed on the mantle as well. In the top one I see Isabel smiling into the camera with a small brown-haired woman and a pretty blonde with wild spiky hair. I point to the photo and ask, “Is one of those people Liz?”
“Yeah, the one on the left is Liz. The other one is Tracey, my ex,” she says casually but I can see the way that her eyes are looking at me to gauge my reaction to her comment.
“She’s very pretty. They…they both are,” I stammer.
Another sip of wine and I have the courage to ask the question I’ve been wondering about since last week.
“Um, are you only attracted to women or do you like, still sleep with men and stuff too?” I can’t believe how forward I’m being but she takes it all in stride.
She looks right at me as she says, “I’m attracted to beautiful people Sarah, and I think that you are beautiful.”
I gulp. “So, are we on a date right now?” I ask, wondering if I’m doing a good job of concealing the mixture of hope and confusion in my voice.
“Do you want us to be on a date?” she asks softly.
I take a deep breathe and admit the truth. “Yes, I think so. Yes.”
She smiles and takes my arm. “Then let’s go out.”
*****
It’s been a week since our first (or was it the second?) “date” and I’ve had my head in the clouds the whole time. We held hands at the movies and I felt like a giddy teenager. Honestly I hardly even remember what the movie was about, all I was conscious of was her nearness – her sweet, spicy scent, how soft her hand felt in mine, the way our knees were touching every so slightly.
We went to a coffee shop and ate cake and drank lattes, talking for hours about our dreams and hopes. I know she doesn’t know *who* I am but still I feel like she saw me – I felt like I was really being seen for the first time in my life.
When she walked me to my doorstep, I felt the tension build up with every footfall. Before we could even get all of the way up the steps, I swung around with a sudden jolt of courage. “Isabel?”
“Yes,” she said, sounding a little surprised at the urgency in my voice.
“I have to kiss you.”
She chuckled. “Well if you have to…”
My lips interrupted hers. Had I gone mad? A tiny voice screeched in my head, only to be drowned out by the pounding of my heart as I felt her lips move against mine.
Her lips were as soft and full as I remembered from the brief rescue kiss in the bar the week before. But this time the kiss deepened quickly. I felt my tongue bathed in her sweet breath. I caught her luscious lower lip in between my teeth lightly, teasing her as well as myself. Every part of my body was screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as I felt myself get lost in the delicious taste of her. Nothing had every felt so right or as incredibly exciting as the feel of her girl lips against mine with her arms around my waist, my hands holding onto the sides of her face for dear life. Her skin felt silky and welcoming in a way that scratchy man stubble never had for me.
When the kiss finally ended – I have no idea how long we were standing there out in the night air, making out like high school students on my front stoop – she stroked my cheek with her fingers as her lips turned up into a smile.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, sexy Sarah.” And then she flitted off, tossing her head to grin at me before hailing the first cab that came by – really, who could possibly ignore her? When her cab was finally out of sight, I finally allowed myself to let out a squeal. Covering my mouth with my hands, I stomped on the ground, trying to find some way to release the excess energy coursing through my veins.
Coming back to the here and now, I shake my head of these delicious memories, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. She’s coming over for dinner any minute and I still have to put the finishing touches on the meal.
*****
I watch entranced as she takes the last bite of her piece of the chocolate hazelnut torte I made especially for the occasion, having heard her mention how much she loves chocolate the other night. Her eyes close as she swallows. “Mmmm, that was amazing. Better than sex…almost,” she adds that last word after a beat and I can feel myself flush at the implication in her words.
Her eyelids flutter open and I keep staring at her intently – I can’t keep my eyes off her. The way that she licks her lips is making me crazy. I want her so much but I’m incredibly nervous. What if I’m a disappointment? What if I don’t know what to do?
But then she crawls over to where I’m sitting across the floor from her. We ate dinner picnic style on the floor and the candles that I set up are bathing her face in flickering light as she moves closer and closer to me. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as she advances, but I feel frozen to the spot. Frozen until she kisses me and I melt into a puddle in her arms.
As the kiss deepens I feel my body react, flooding with liquid heat as her hands move under my shirt, making electric contact with the skin on my back.
I can’t think; I can only respond by touching her tentatively, testing the waters. She moans into my mouth as my hand creeps up her abdomen, coming closer and closer to the swell of her breasts. Dispelling my hesitation she raises her other hand to stroke my breast over the soft material of my shirt. My breathing becomes ragged when her fingers graze my nipple, standing at attention against my shirt. I’m not wearing a bra. I don’t really need to as my breasts are relatively small and generally seem to hold themselves up just fine. Looking into my eyes as if asking for permission, she slowly moves her hand under my shirt, reaching for my naked skin. I can’t help but gasp when she circles the sensitive skin of my nipple with her index finger.
I look up at her amazed by the way that the slightest touch of her hand sets me aflame. Before I know it I am lifting my arms over my head as she gently pulls my shirt over my head. Sitting there wearing only my skirt and underwear with my bare chest exposed to her eyes I feel amazingly wild and free. Even though I am in a somewhat vulnerable position, I feel oddly safe – I know that I am in good hands.
And what good hands they are! I close my eyes and get swept along by the tide of her expert caresses. She lowers her beautiful lips to my breast and as she suckles me I feel a deep pang of longing in my core. She seems to sense my need and her fingers graze the inside of my thigh as she hikes up my skirt. I feel myself becoming wetter than I have ever been in my life as her hand comes closer to my pussy. She kisses me on the lips once more; my tongue comes out to meet hers, knowing that she will taste my desire as an aperitif to the chocolate.
I am trembling like a leaf as her fingers come into contact with the dripping cotton of my panties. She gently strokes me through the crotch of my underwear until I whimper for more.
She makes a trail of kisses down my front as her fingers loop under the elastic waistband of my panties, pulling them off quickly and letting them drop to the floor. I watch with fascination as her kisses move up the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. As she kneels over me I can see the tops of her breasts threatening to spill out of her tank top.
I can feel her warm breath on me and I sigh with anticipation. When her tongue begins to lap my clit, I feel myself tremble even more than I thought was possible. She continues to lick and suck my clit as she reaches inside my opening quickly finding the sensitive bundle of nerves inside.
My pulse races and I look down in wonder at the sight of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen lapping up my pussy like it is a treasure, a treat. Waves of pleasure rocket through me, filling my body and emptying out through my mouth as I moan. I let go completely as she coaxes me to orgasm – for the first time.
As the tremors racking my body subside she comes back up to kiss me. Her mouth tastes of chocolate and sex and sweetness. I sigh contentedly as she strokes my hair. I feel beautiful wrapped up in the tenderness and passion of her touch. But then a pang of worry enters my mind.
“Isabel?” I say softly.
“Yes,” her voice is husky yet sweet.
“I…I don’t know how to do it to you.”
She smiles at me. “Don’t worry about it Sarah. I’ll show you.” And then I’m lost in her kisses once again.