~ The Lake ~
by Littlespit



By Littlespit

Disclaimer: This is a work of alternative fiction where women love, and are in love, with women. They act on this love so if this is not your cup o' tea, please move on.

Sex: Eventually

Violence: Not really

My thanks to Titan's Mom for her input and critiques?you're a good friend.

This, as with all I do is for Bobocat.

Comments may be addressed to Littlespit@cox.net


I'm sitting on the front porch of my home. My feet are propped up on the front rail and I'm tipped back in the bent wood rocker I spend most of my evenings in. As I look over my lake and out to the small island in the middle, I review my life. Why I am in such deep reflection, you ask? Because tomorrow is my birthday and my life has changed so drastically over the past years. The changes have been both good and bad. I struggle with the knowledge that almost all of the good changes have been as a result of the bad ones.

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to live here; on this land, on the shore of this lake with my own special island in the middle. This was my grandparent's land and every summer I would spend at least two weeks up here exploring every inch of the area. My Gramps and I built a small boat together so that I could row out to explore the small island. It is my special place; it's the place I run to when I need to think or when I simply want to be alone. This place means peace to me, it always has.

I take a big swallow of my warm Chai latte and allow my mind wander back in time to high school. I was a tall, gangly kid who was smart enough to stand out and strong enough to avoid being picked on. I tended to be aloof from my peers, mainly because I couldn't stand their cliques and petty gossip but also because I felt separate from most of them. I could not relate to the twittering girls as they gushed over the latest young stud on television or over the hunky school athletes. I couldn't identify with it and I would not pretend in order to fit in. I feel myself smirk as I realize that I must have looked like the quintessential bad girl as I leaned against the lockers in my jeans, white t-shirt and leather jacket with a disgusted look on my face. The fact that the teachers all loved me didn't help my popularity at all. One incident in particular sticks in my mind: it was fourth period History class and my teacher had given me permission to go to the library during class to work on a paper. When one of the other students complained that I was getting special treatment, the teacher came back with "If you spent less time talking in class and applied yourself to your work the way Taryn does, you'd get special privileges as well." I heard the class begin to cause a ruckus but I simply shot a bored smirk over my shoulder at my classmates and sauntered out of the room. My bravado, however, was just that. It hid the soft heart and deep feelings that brewed inside my teen-aged being. Although I loved school, I couldn't wait to graduate and move on to college; naively believing that college students would be less petty.

I watch the sun set through the trees on my island and reminisce back to that day in the school library. Walking into the room that smelled of aging binding glue and paper, I inhaled deeply taking pleasure in the sensation. I still love the smell of a library or bookstore. Anyway, back to that day in the library: After I'd picked the books I wanted to use for my paper, I made my way back to the work tables in the back of the room. As I approached the work tables I saw Brad Standish, the school's football star, manhandling a female student. I'd never seen this girl before. The cute strawberry blonde was obviously not interested in the determined, hormone-driven jock, but Brad wasn't taking no for an answer. I observed as he tried to sweet talk the pretty girl into going to the "microfiche" room. She politely refused. Brad sat beside her and slid his arm around her. She removed his hand and told him to stop it. I can still feel my heartbeat increase as it did that day when I contemplated stepping in if Brad had continued. It seemed Brad finally accepted that the cute girl was uninterested and he moved on. I moved over to the table where the girl studied and sat down on the opposite side of the table from her. She looked up at me and I nodded a greeting at her. She smiled at me and, to my utter chagrin, I felt myself blush. All of a sudden I understood what all those girls had twittered about when they talked about their crushes. I was awestruck by that petite green-eyed girl and her smile. To cover my embarrassment I immediately opened one of my books and pretended to study. I'll admit that my attention was split between what was in the book and stealing glances at the pretty teen across from me.

The temperature is dropping as darkness descends and I move into the house to grab the soft blanket from the back of my sofa. I refill my cup of Chai, make my way back out to my rocker on the porch, and allow my thoughts to return to that long ago day. The blonde and I settled into a routine. Concentration on our books was interspersed from time to time with shy glances at one another until she stood up to find another book. I watched her disappear between rows of book racks and then made myself concentrate on my own research. I was engrossed in my work when suddenly I heard a struggle and a muffled cry. I jumped up from my place at the table to move toward the alarming sounds where I discovered Brad pinning my table mate up against the library wall. One meaty hand was over her mouth and the other was pawing at the front of her blouse. It was obvious that his attentions weren't welcomed and I instinctively moved to intervene. Although Brad outweighed me by a good seventy pounds, I had martial arts training on my side. I ended up being Brina's hero that day and wound up with a very welcomed, beautiful, green-eyed shadow for the rest of my time in High School. I sit here smiling as I think about my tag-along. If I'm honest, Brina became much more to me than a tag-along. She became my first love.

The moon is almost full tonight and as it reflects off of the lake I decide to walk along the shore for a while as I continue my reminiscences. I walk along and breathe in the pine-scented air as I remember the summer of my senior year. I came up to the lake as usual that year, but unlike any other year, I brought someone with me. Brina joined me at Gran and Gramp's that summer. I toss a pebble into the lake as I remember: I told Gran and Gramps that Brina and I were going to go spend the night on the island. It was going to be a glorious night with the moon almost full. I snort as I realize that the moon that night was exactly as the moon is tonight then resume my recollection. Gran looked at me with her signature one brow cocked look and then focused her gaze upon my grandfather. They always seemed to have some telepathic link and this moment was no exception. No word was spoken between them, but Gramps nodded his head, obviously agreeing to some silent request. Gran told me she was going to take Brina for a walk and when I said I would join them, Gramps said that he wanted to have a word with me.

I've found my favorite thinking tree and I slide down its rough trunk to sit beneath its boughs. I bring my knees up to my chest as I remember my talk with Gramps.

"Taryn, I know you're planning a camp out on the island with your friend." Gramps started. I nodded with a smile. Gramps reached out to stroke my hair as he launched into his reason for our talk, "I see the way you watch that girl, Taryn. I'm going to give you the same talk I gave your Papa when he was courting your Mama."

I shake my head in the here and now as I recall my shock that day. My first inclination was to deny my grandfather's words but I had never lied to him, and I wasn't willing to start. Gramps took my hand. "I expect you to treat that girl with respect, Taryn. I know things may seem different to you since you're both girls; but let me tell you something: Once certain physical lines are crossed in a relationship, everything changes. Don't cross those lines unless you're ready to make the commitment that should come with them." I tried to tell him that I wasn't planning on doing anything like that on our camp out. What I told him was true, but Gramps was much wiser than I as he said, "Ah, beautiful girl, I don't doubt what you say; but you listen to me. When you're out under the stars, bathed in moonlight and lying next to the person that calls to your heart, things you hadn't planned on happening can too easily happen. If you're forewarned, and prepared, you have a hope of making a choice with wisdom not out of hormones." He took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward his, "Now, you'll have our little talk in the back of your head, and hopefully that will keep you from getting carried away under the summer night sky. You have much to accomplish with your life, my wonderful granddaughter, and so does that pretty girl you have your eye on. Remember that." I told Gramps that I would remember what he'd said.

I'm sure you're expecting me to tell you that Gramps' talk ended up being a moot point and that Brina and I made passionate love on that island. Well, you would be wrong. I shift my rear end in the earth and rub my back against the tree trunk to relieve an itch as I remember that moon lit night.

Brina and I rowed out to the island as planned. We brought our fishing poles and spent time at dusk catching our dinner. Brina was so damned cute when she caught her first fish; I thought my face would crack from smiling so hard. After we set up camp, I built a fire in the much-used fire ring then Brina and I prepared our supper together. I take a deep breath as I recall how many times our bodies brushed against one another as we set up camp and cooked dinner. With each contact though, Gramps' words played inside my head. To be frank, I was sure that Brina was clueless about my attraction to her. I was certain that Brina saw me as solely her friend, sometime hero, and nothing more.

Yes, that was me snorting. I'm remembering a moment of magic and scoffing at my own cluelessness. After we'd eaten our trout and cleaned up the dinner dishes, Brina excused herself to go use the bushes. I was sitting by the fire with my back resting against a fallen log. When Brina returned from her call of nature, she walked right up to where I was sitting and proceeded to sit between my legs, using my chest as her backrest. Have you ever lived a moment when you experience such conflicting emotions that you think your head will explode? That's what was going on for me in that moment. I was thrilled, shocked, confused, scared to death, and turned on all in the same instant.

I skip a flat stone over the surface of the water as I chuckle at those distant moments. "If you won't make the first move, I guess I have to." Brina stated matter of factly. I was so flummoxed I couldn't find anything to say. So I followed my instincts and wrapped my arms around her middle to pull her closer into my body. We sat in that position for quite a while. Sometimes she would stroke my arms with her fingertip or run her hands along my legs. I leaned forward from time to time to place gentle kisses against her soft hair or on her shoulders. It was a quiet simmer of young passion and it was bliss. I told her about my talk with Gramps and she nodded in understanding. We talked about our, now obvious, mutual attraction to one another. We talked about love and about both of our dreams for the future. Brina wanted to build bridges, literally. She wanted to get a degree in engineering and to design magnificent bridges. I have photographs of every one of her bridges, framed and matted, on the wall of my log home. Each bridge is a work of art. I, on the other hand, wanted earn my degree in music and compose. I've had my share of top ten hits and I've heard symphonies perform my music to critical acclaim.

I pull the blanket closer around my shoulders as I feel a chilly breeze. I hear the Jake brakes sound on a passing logging truck as I relive the past. Brina and I decided that we would go our separate ways after high school. On the day before she left for college we took a long walk together. We admitted our love for one another but we grudgingly agreed that we each needed to accomplish our goals? or at least to give our career dreams our best shot before we could hope to have a serious relationship. We joked about our favorite movie, "An Affair to Remember". We said that if, when we were thirty, we still wanted each other that we would meet back at the lake. I walked her back to her house that day and kissed her goodbye.

I smile now remembering that kiss. It was the best kiss I've ever experienced. We both left for our respective schools and worked on our degrees. Oh, we kept in touch through letters and phone calls. I kept tabs on her through mutual acquaintances and she was never completely out of my thoughts. I feel a stab of pain in my chest as I remember hearing that she found someone a few years ago. A mutual friend told me that she'd run into Brina at a concert. I found no comfort in the fact that it was a performance of one of my compositions when Jane told me that Brina was with a date that night. Jane said that they seemed very cozy and that Brina's eyes sparkled. I felt like I had been kicked in the gut. I still feel like that.

I guess I should head back to the house. I look at my watch and the luminous hands show me that it is almost midnight. In less than half an hour I'll be thirty years old. I've accomplished, and continue to accomplish, my career goals. I live on the land I've treasured since I was born?even if it came to me at the expense of losing my beloved grandparents. I am, for the most part, content in my life; but there will always be a hole in my spirit where only Brina fit. I'm sure you consider me a romantic fool for holding out my entire adult life because of a woman I fell for in high school. I suppose you're right; but I am not willing to settle for anything less than what my grandparents, and my parents for that matter, had together. No one else has sparked my heart the way Brina did way back when, and nothing less will do.

I walk along the shore line back toward my home smiling as I hear a fish jump off shore. Maybe I'll start my day tomorrow catching breakfast. It will be a quiet day tomorrow, birthday or not. My parents are off on a third or fourth honeymoon; I smile at that. My folks are crazy for one another. How many people can say that their Papa still chases their Mama around the kitchen with amorous intention? Well, mine still do that. I cannot count the number of times I've witnessed my Papa's hand giving my Mama's backside a pinch or a pat. Does that help you understand why I've set the bar so high for my own romantic life? I've seen true, passionate, love expressed every day of my life.

Damn, I forgot to turn my porch light on. It isn't so much a matter of safety as it is a preference I have. As I walk toward the front of my house, I like to see a welcoming light shining. I lift my foot to start up the front steps then stop dead in my tracks. I feel my breath catch in my throat. My heart is pounding inside my chest and the adrenaline rush is making me feel hot all over.

"Happy Birthday." I hear her voice. I see her sitting in my bent wood rocker, but I can't seem to move. I am terrified this is all wishful thinking. Have I conjured her up with my musings tonight? If I climb these steps and walk to her will she disappear? Oh god, I think my heart is going to explode.

"Are you real?" I hear myself ask. She chuckled. I'm having a heart attack here and she chuckled!

"It's your birthday, T. We said we would meet back here when we were thirty?" her voice hesitates then, "unless you've changed your mind?"

"No!" I blurt a little too loudly, still frozen in place, "I was just out under my tree, thinking about you. Remembering."

She smiles in the moonlight. My god, she's more beautiful than any one person has a right to be. "Good thoughts?" she asks.

I feel a smile pull at my lips, "Always, Brin." My smile falters, "But, I thought you'd found someone else."

She laughs outright at that. "Where did you get a cockamamie idea like that?"

"Jane." I answer honestly. "She said she saw you at a concert. She said you were with someone and that you looked close." I feel my voice hitch, "She said your eyes sparkled."

Brina stands from the rocker then walks toward me. She steps down two steps and stops when her face is even with mine. I feel her hands cup my face as she looks into my eyes, "I was with Ariel."

I think to myself, 'She was with Ariel?' Ariel is her cousin. I feel my long-held heart break ease a bit at hearing that. The rest of my broken heart and lost hope disappear as Brina continues, "My eyes were sparkling. I had just listened to a symphony written by you." I feel her thumb caress my lips while she speaks, "A symphony titled, Bridges for Brina. My heart was overflowing, of course my eyes sparkled."

"So you're single?" I feel hope blooming inside.

"Taryn, I've been taken for 13 years." She smiles at me and I melt. I feel my heart blast against my chest as she breathes, "My god, you are beautiful."

I know I should be doing something, but I cannot seem to get my muscles to move. I want to wrap her in my arms, I want to hold her and never let her go. I am terrified that if I touch her she'll disappear. Finally I manage to move my hands up to cover hers on my face and in wonder I state, "You're real."

My shocked induced paralysis finally broken, I wrap my arms around her as I yearned to do. Have you ever, in one instant, felt your soul slide home? That is what I feel now. This is an all encompassing feeling of belonging. "Do you feel it?" I ask her.

"Oh yeah," she answers. "We're finally home." She backs away from me enough to look into my eyes. "So, T, I've waited for thirteen years. Will you please take me into that beautiful house and make a woman out of me?"

Again I experience an emotional combo plate! I feel a laugh bubble up from my chest at the same time as an overwhelming rush of desire that will no longer be denied, sprinkled with a large dose of trepidation. I scoop my girl up into my arms, carry her over the threshold and directly back to the master bedroom. I set her down and know I have an admission to make. Running my fingers through her hair, my heart still attempting an escape through my chest wall, I say, "Brina, you're going to have to help me here. I have fantasies; I've had dreams about being with you, but?" I swallow around the lump in my throat, "I've never touched another woman."

Looking at that smile, I sigh feeling overwhelmed. "I guess we'll have to figure this out together, my love." Oh, there's her impish look as she says, "The only woman I've ever touched intimately is?" she leans up to kiss my lips then breaks away, "me." She finishes her sentence.

My knees fail. Fortunately I catch myself before I fall to the floor taking her with me. The thought of Brina touching herself in that way completely short circuits my brain. I'm sure I'm standing here gaping like a grounded trout. I know my eyes are wide as I gaze down at her beautiful face, my mind running with that very sensual scenario. I think I'm going to die now. I just voiced my thought aloud, "Show me."

"Breathe, Taryn." She gently reminds me as I witness her unbuttoning her shirt. I take a deep breath and realize that I had indeed been neglecting that normally autonomic function. I swallow the saliva that has collected in my mouth, and yet I wonder how I can have anything to swallow since all the moisture in my body has undeniably moved to environs that are more southern.

Oh goddess, give me strength. Brina's jeans just hit the floor. I'm lightheaded. I've never seen such beauty before. She unhooks the front closure on her bra, allowing me a glimpse of the iner curve of her breasts . Her hands run up her abdomen and cup her breasts, lifting them. My breathing is erratic and coming in gasping pants as I watch her caress her upper body.

My eyes fly to her face as she takes my hands and places them on the straps of her bra. The look of trust, passion, and love that shine from her eyes steals my breath completely. Her hands guide mine in removing the last barrier that hide her breasts from my view. I fall to my knees in worship. I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face in her warm flesh. I feel her fingers combing through my chestnut tresses. I'm crying. My emotions have burst the dam and are flowing out through my tear ducts and onto her skin.

She backs away from me and I experience a nanosecond of panic until I realize that she is crawling onto the bed. Her hands hold mine as she guides me to lay with her atop the quilt. She cradles me as I sob out my emotion. Ten years of hope followed by three years of despair, having believed she had found another, pour forth from my soul. I comfort myself by rubbing my cheek against her smooth firm breasts. I've never felt anything as soft and wondrous as this. My hands decide to get in on the act and I slide my hand, palm flat, against the silk that is her skin. As my right hand covers her breast she gasps and moans deep in throat. I feel a smile cover my face. I thought I had known what power feels like. But no power can compare with the ability to make this woman gasp and moan! I need to hear more.

I lift my face from her chest to lock eyes with her. I lower my face and meet her lips in a kiss unlike any I've ever known. Her lips caress mine and her tongue slides between my lips to entwine with mine. I can't get enough of her. Instinct dictates that I slide on top of her, and I obey. I feel her hands pulling at the hem of my shirt. I break our kiss and lift my torso away from her just enough to allow the fabric to be shucked. I press my naked chest against hers and experience a whole new wave of desire. We both moan long and loud at the delicious feeling of skin against skin. I kiss my way from her mouth, over her chin and back to her ear. I bite on her earlobe and share a delicious shudder as it runs through her body. Mmmm, Memo to self: she has sensitive ears.

I enjoy another of her guttural moans while I trace the shell of her ear with my tongue. I place my lips against her ear to remind her, "Show me."

It should be, and probably is in some states, illegal to be as sexy as my girl is at this moment. The look on her face, oh goddess. She stares into my eyes saying, "I'll show you exactly what happens when I think about you." She's getting up off the bed and I grab for her hand. She smiles a smile that reassures me, snatches the quilt from the bed, wraps her body in it, and walks out of the bedroom. Before she's all the way through the doorway she turns back to me with a saucy wink, "Stay right there."

As if I could move! Whatever she wants, I'll do. Not a moment passes and her head is back in the doorway. She points at my lower anatomy and says, "Off," then disappears from view once more. I'm scrambling to shed my jeans. My heart is doing its escape artist trick once again, so I take a few deep breaths to attempt to retain it in my chest. Should I just lay here in my all together? Should I crawl under the sheets? My mind is reeling with questions I've never had to answer before. Being a thirty-year-old virgin wreaks havoc on the psyche when the sexual drought is about to be over!

She's back. She's leaning against the door jam looking at me with those luminous green eyes. God, I love her. I haven't seen her in forever and yet I love her more at this moment than I feel capable of expressing. "You want me to show you." She states. I nod like a love struck pubescent. She smiles at me and I feel my entire body infuse with heat. She's clutching something under the quilt. She pulls one hand out from the fold of the quilt and holds up a CD. She glances at the small Bose speakers that circle the room, "Where's your stereo equipment?" I get up from the bed and meet her in the doorway. I don't resist the pull of her appetizing mouth, and bend to kiss her before showing her where the CD player is located. She slips the disc into the machine, turns to kiss me, then orders me back to the bedroom. "Go sit with your back against the foot board of the bed." I steal another kiss then move to comply. Anticipation makes my muscles shake.

I'm leaning against the footboard of my king-sized bed; my eyes glued to the doorway of the room. I hear the first strains of Bridges for Brina flow out of the high definition speakers and I feel tears stinging my eyes. She walks, no, she dances back into the room. The ballet training I know she took is obvious in her movements. She steals my breath once again. As she dances, she brings one hand out of the quilt and holds something up in front of her. As she pirouettes I see that she holds a picture of? . She dances; looking into the two dimensional eyes of my photo. She dances the movements exactly as I'd pictured her while I wrote her symphony. She dances for me. To my wonder and delight, she drops the quilt and continues her dance. She reaches the bed at the precise stanza where the tempo slows and the oboe sings a sensual aria of longing. Brina still stares into the photographic representation until I move forward to pluck it from her fingers. I want, no I need, her to look at me on this night. Her face shifts as I remove the photograph. Her expression changes from one of yearning to one of clear intent. As the music swells and surrounds us she settles against the pillows at the headboard; her eyes intent on mine. Her hands begin to move over her body. She slides her hands over her taut abdomen and up to cup her breasts. I squirm as I witness her fingers working her nipples into hard peaks. I moan as I hear her breathing deepen and hear my name on her whispered moan. My hips rock in symphony with hers. My thighs are slick with my own lubrication as I watch her right hand slide inside her silk panties. The tight fabric stretches over her bent fingers as she strokes the heat between her legs. Her hand moves slowly beneath the soft fabric and I need to see more.

I change positions long enough to hook my thumbs into the waistband of her panties. I pull them down, and off, then bring them to my nose and inhale the scent of my lover's arousal. I shudder with a tiny orgasm and look into her eyes. She knows. Her eyes darken from spring grass green to deep emerald as her fingers circle the pink pearl at the junction of her legs. "Oh Brina," I sigh witnessing this wondrous sight. My voice causes a drop of creamy fluid to ooze from her center. I cannot resist; I lean in and catch the drop on my tongue. Brina makes a sound I've never heard before. I think it was my name, but the guttural quality of it makes it impossible to decipher. I feel more nectar pour over my tongue and I greedily lap at her softness. I'm lost in the wonder of her. I'm tasting heaven and I'll never get my fill. Her hand is in my hair; she guides my tongue to cover her hard bundle of nerves and thrusts her hips against my mouth. As her symphony crescendos in my ears, I feel her body climax then rest beneath my tongue.

"Taryn," she gasps breathlessly. I move up to take her into my arms. A thin sheen of sweat covers her body, and it feels amazing. I kiss her until we are both breathless. Only my need for oxygen pulls me from the ambrosia her lips provide. I feel her hand against my cheek and look into her eyes. "Take me." She whispers, "Make me yours."

I am overwhelmed. I know when I take this last bastion; she will irrevocably be mine. No one will ever receive this gift she gives me. My eyes hold hers. As I slide effortlessly into her, I utter the only words my soul owns, "Forever Brina."



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