Part 2
Chapter 5
"Bill...bill...mash note from our landlord…" Janice paused while thumbing through the mail to wink at Mel. "That's for you."
Without looking up from her work, Mel replied, "It's in your name."
"Yeah, but he lusts after you." She shuffled the expensive linen envelope to the back, like a card shark arranging her hand. "You want this coupon for Bromo? Five cents off?"
"No. Pitch it...you get the same result for a penny's worth of seltzer
and bakin' soda." She dropped a dollop of creamed spinach and garlic into small round of dough. "So, are you goin' to tell me about this mysterious meetin' with the President, or do I have to get rough?"
Janice raised an eyebrow. "Oh, honey, if ever there was incentive for
keeping my trap shut, that's it." She stood on her toes and kissed Mel sloppily on the cheek. "I'll tell you everything, okay? I just need some time to decompress…relax…" She waved a fistful of mail. "…look at my mail."
Mel smiled, relenting. "There's a card from Alice in there somewhere."
"No kidding." The card in question was an over-sized two-tone envelope postmarked ADELAIDE. Erring on the side of excess, there were a dozen 2 cent stamps affixed to the back. Janice's name and address had been carefully printed in large block letters just above a very good illustration of her Electra. Smiling, she slid a fingernail beneath the flap of the envelope. "For a while there, I thought she might've forgotten all about us."
"She worships you. Don't be dense." Mel turned to her. "Okay, you're the one with the appetite of a teamster. Is 10 ravioli enough?"
Janice gave the card front, with its oversized daisies and flowery sentiments a quick glance. "It's a good start, sweetheart."
Mel pushed her glasses up on her nose and announced decisively, "Better make it an even dozen." She set a saucepan to fill under the sink. "Don't keep me in suspense. What does she have to say?"
"Well, there's your standard birthday greetings, of course, beyond that she says to tell you 'hello' and that I should give you a big hug from her…she's doing well at her studies…filling sketchpads like her hand is possessed…and she misses us…uh huh…I knew she was leading up to something." Janice drifted to Mel's side and said, "Listen to this: 'School's out for winter break from 6th July through the 21st and Dad has promised me a holiday in the states if I keep my grades up. It's just the incentive I need to finish out the period with good marks. Anyway, I'm missing you both terribly. Have a wonderful birthday, Janice. Love, Alice.'" Janice flicked the card rapidly against her palm and snorted, her eyes following Mel as she moved around the kitchen. "Subtle, isn't she?"
Mel laughed as she lit a fire beneath the saucepan of water. "I guess
we'd better clear our respective calendars for the month of July."
Janice closed the card and tucked it back inside the envelope. "Mel,
you know I have no problems with Alice visiting. I adore the kid…"
"But -- " Mel leaned against the counter and folded her arms. "There's a 'but' in there somewhere."
Janice took a moment to form a reply, stepping out of her shoes, leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake. She stopped within touching distance of Mel, but kept her hands at her sides. Her voice was resonant with affection as she spoke. "I see that kid, and I know how wonderful she is, how bright and funny and I…I'm sad to think that we can never have that for ourselves…you know?"
"Never's a long time," replied Mel quietly. "Granted, the mechanics of conceivin' a child aren't necessarily - "
"Doesn't it bother you?" interjected Janice. She could feel the heat even before Mel's hands closed over her own. She looked down at the long, elegant fingers entwined in hers and squeezed them in response. "You want children, Mel. I know you do and I can't give you --"
Mel silenced her with a kiss, tasting salt as she pressed her lips to
each cheek. "I'm livin' my fantasy," she whispered in Janice's ear.
"How many people can say that?"
Janice raised her hand and grinned, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "You're too good to me," she said, pulling Mel close.
Mel nipped Janice's protruding bottom lip. "Well, you deserve nothin' but the best…and that's why I have to say this…your seams are a disgrace."
Janice looked over her shoulder, at the calves of her legs where the
prominent seams of silk gathered and swayed down the length of her legs. "They're not that bad." Mel turned on her heel, muttering something about '…looks like a mile of windin' mountain road…' and Janice knew she meant business. "Have I got time before supper for a hot shower?"
The water in the saucepan was just coming to a boil. "You do, if you don't dawdle."
"Dawdle," echoed Janice, kissing Mel on the mouth, "That is so precious!" Turning, she caught sight of the waxed carton on the counter. "Oh, nearly forgot…from our neighbors…chicken soup like your bubka used to make."
"Oh, isn't he a darlin' man?" Mel opened the carton and inhaled deeply; the broth was thick with white meat, celery and carrots marinating in a perfume of black pepper and red pepper corns. She picked a teaspoon out of the bouquet of cutlery in the strainer and tasted the soup. "Heaven, just heaven. If that doesn't clear the sinuses, nothin' will." Janice wrinkled her nose. "I know…too much pepper for your taste. I don't suppose you told the nice old gentleman that the digestive system you so happily abuse prefers apple strudel and knishes to anything even remotely healthy?"
Janice shrugged and laughed. "Funny, it didn't come up."
"He caught me as I was comin' up the walk with the groceries," Mel said, opening the icebox door. "We had quite a little talk. Did you know he was forced to leave his youngest boy in Bremen? The Gestapo just took him away in the dead of night."
Janice's brow furrowed. "Yeah, I'd heard things like that were happening. I thought the older son said that they came over from Cologne."
"Bremen," Mel reiterated, removing a saucepan from the top shelf.
"Took him away and no one's seen or heard from him since," she
concluded, closing the icebox door with her hip. "Isn't that awful?"
"Horrible," Janice agreed.
Mel lit a low fire beneath a saucepan containing a dry paste of roma
tomatoes, basil, onion and mushrooms. "The mama died years back, but the son, his name was - pass me the wine there on the counter, will you - Issac, for his daddy, taught school until the Nazzies shut it down last summer."
Janice wrapped her hand around a stout bottle of Sauterne and gave the label -- Chateau De Malle 1939 -- a passing glance. "You learned all that in the two minutes it took you to walk from the curb to the gate?"
"No, I had him in for coffee. He seemed so lonely." She poured a half cup of wine into the saucepan and moved the contents around with a wooden spatula. "You'd know that if you spent any time at all talkin' with him."
Janice turned away from Mel and pulled aside a cascade of yellow hair, a wordless plea for assistance. "I think that level of conversational German is beyond me."
"Well, it wouldn't be if you practiced more often," Mel admonished,
squinting at the pearlescent buttons running the length of Janice's
dress. "As it is, your German is -- "
"Schrecklich. I know," Janice replied. She felt the nervous energy of Mel's hands as they fussed with the catch at her neckline and lingered over the buttons at the small of her back; with a shrug, she bared one shoulder and looked back at Mel. "Thanks, doll," she said affectionately and stepped away to collect her shoes. "I'll try not to dawdle."
Janice peeled away layers of silk and cotton until her clothes were a
wilted heap on the bathroom floor beside the Cheviot clawfoot tub. It was original to the brownstone, impossibly, gloriously deep and long enough to comfortably accommodate two bodies in repose. She had spent their first night in the new apartment introducing Mel to the joys of water conservation; it appealed to the Southerner's frugal side, among other things. She had taken to it with passion and an affinity for experimentation that both startled and pleased Janice. Lingering on that pleasant memory, she selected a cake of imported Patchouli from a gift assortment on the vanity and hung a large, thick towel next to the radiator. She stepped into the deep tub with caution and drew the shower curtain around her in a circle.
To her delight, the water came up warm at once. She turned her back to the pelting spray, enjoying the sting of hard, hot water between her shoulder blades as she soaped and rinsed her hair. When the water ran clear, she turned her face to the spray and thoroughly lathered her throat and shoulders before moving the soap lazily over her breasts. In the close, heady steam of spicy balsam, with her eyes closed, it was easy to imagine Mel's hands on her, stroking, pinching, rolling the flesh between her fingers until the nipples were pebbled and standing taut in skin one size too small. She took a mouthful of water and swallowed, spit out a second mouthful through her slightly pursed lips, tracing the path with soapy fingers, down her belly to a liquid fire kindled within her. She wanted Mel so badly she ached inside, a desire so profound she likened it to acute hunger pangs. And so there was something more than a little masochistic in the detour of her hands to her hips and thighs - the self-denial was painful and the pain was
exquisite. She had always been a creature of discipline and her restraint was such that she could contain her arousal for hours, feeding off the promise of release. These days, promise had a name.
She felt a wave of cool air as the shower curtain parted. Before she
could turn around, she felt a pair of arms slide around her waist and
the warm press of flesh on flesh. Oh, yes...Happy Birthday to me.
Chapter 6
"Startin' without me..." Mel husked, moving her hips into Janice in a rolling, sensual sway. "Naughty girl."
"I was thinking of you." Janice reveled in Mel's breath at her ear, and the gentle friction as their bodies moved in unison. "Does that count for anything?"
Mel's heart knocked gladly in her chest. "It counts for everything." She moved her hands over the firm, compact body settled against her, fingers and palms gliding along on ball bearings of fragrant lather.
As her lover's hands roamed her body in a long, languid caress, Janice let her head drop back into the hollow of Mel's shoulder. "Not that I'm complaining, but what happened with dinner?"
Mel slipped her hand between their bodies, dragging a finger the length of Janice's swollen labia, delighting in the slick heat she found there. "Well, now, I can make dinner…" she crooned, painting Janice's lips with her own arousal "...or I can make love…" As the smaller woman turned in her arms, fixing her with her eyes, Mel swallowed hard. "Which appetite would you like me to feed first?"
"You're joking, right?" With a growl, Janice drew Mel down for a hungry kiss, tasting herself as they settled into a slow, thorough exploration of one another. Hot water pricked and stung her skin, counterpoint to the hands, one at her hip, the other at the small of her back, urging her forward in a kind of sexual samba.
It was a rhythm both women knew well, and while loving Janice was as natural as breathing, making love to her was anything but routine and predictable. Which meant it was never dull. Janice was adventurous, passionate and self-assured by nature, and she brought those qualities to their bedroom, inspiring similar confidence in Mel. Sex with such a partner could take on the scale of a De Mille film, complete with careful buildup and skillful exposition, where the peaks and climaxes were merely places to catch your breath in preparation for the second reel. Love with Janice, Mel once observed, could be epic…or content with a single kiss. Yup, that's the spot. Janice's lips found the pulse point at the juncture of her throat and collarbone, a favorite stop on the tour south. Oh, God…you know that makes me crazy…Mel tossed her head back, enjoying the spray on her face and throat; it was like making love in a driving rain. Water trickled from her upturned face onto her breasts to be sipped from her body by cool suction and a warm tongue. Janice's strong fingers traced the length of her spine and a hot surge moved through her as their centers met in a tangle. Mel became aware, faintly, of her name being spoken, one syllable repeated like a mantra, vibrating through her chest and the small bones of her ears.
"Mmmmel…" Janice murmured in a protracted hum. She looked up at the tall Southerner with eyes intensely, fiercely green.
Mel kissed her lips briefly. "What, baby?" she sighed, her eyes vague and half-closed.
"Mel, if you don't touch me soon, I'll..."
"What? You'll what?"
Janice laughed as she pressed her lips to Mel's. "I'll be forced to beg."
Mel conjured, from recent memory, the image of Janice on her knees. "Careful now, hon…I might like that," she replied, but she was weakening under the onslaught of feverish kisses and busy hands. "Well, when you put it like that…" She held Janice's gaze in a fog of steam as one hand traveled south between them. She smiled slyly as she traced Janice's trembling lips with the tip of her tongue. "Wählen Sie eine Zahl zwischen ein und vier."
Janice's astonishment was unmistakable. "Aw, no, Mel, trust me when I say now is not the time for a German lesson."
"Im Gegenteil, jetzt ist das perfekte Mal…jetzt, wenn ich Ihre vollständige, und ungeteilte Aufmerksamkeit habe." On the contrary, now is the perfect time…now when I have your complete, and undivided attention. "Geben Sie mir."
"Indulge you?" Janice practically whimpered. "This is a real mood killer, you know that, don't you?"
Mel cupped Janice's mound in one hand, sent out a scout, who returned with news of a flood. "Lügner." Liar.
Janice sank on the fingers at her center with a contented sigh. "Cruel, Pappas...you have a pronounced cruel streak in you."
"Ah,ah,ah..." Mel wagged a glistening finger in Janice's face. "Auf Deutsch."
Janice shuffled in mute, grudging assent. "Würdest du deine Frage wiederholen?" What was the question?
"Wählen Sie eine Zahl zwischen ein und vier.....und seiest du habgierig nicht." Pick a number between one and four...and don't be greedy.
Janice struggled with the translation as Mel's neatly trimmed nails skimmed her belly. "Two -- er, zwei."
"Zwei…" repeated Mel, threading her fingers through wiry golden short hairs. "Das's der sehr ist demokratisch von dir…das verläßt uns irgendwo zu gehen." That's very democratic of you…leaves us someplace to go.
Janice leaned heavily against her, frustration evident as she clamped her teeth down upon the soft round of Mel's shoulder, eliciting a surprised yelp that turned quickly to a coo of delight as Janice soothed the bite with her tongue. "Genug!" she growled into the hollow of Mel's throat; her voice was thick with desire, which, oddly enough, seemed to improve her German pronunciation. "Muß ich du eine Karte zeichnen?" Do I have to draw you a map?
A chuckle rumbled through Mel's chest as the cunning linguist took pity on her pupil. "I think I 'member the way," she replied, slipping two fingers inside to the second knuckle - a hot wall of velvet contracted around her skin; her own muscles clenched in empathy.
Janice made a soft sound of delight and her hand moved down to cover Mel's, to press it deeper into her as she bent to suckle a soft, heavy breast. "More," she murmured thickly, teasing the delicate, ruched flesh with her tongue.
"More," Mel echoed, curling her free hand around Janice's neck, drawing her closer. "Well, whatever the birthday girl wants..." Angling her hand for deeper penetration, she wriggled her fingers, eliciting a sharp intake of breath that cooled the tender flesh beneath Janice's mouth. "Ohmygod," Mel groaned, drowning in sensation -- lips, warm and wet against her skin, and a pair of small hands kneading the flesh over her rapidly beating heart -- her pleasure, giddy and profound and indistinguishable from her lover's. It was perfect. Perfect as the delicate throat arching to her kisses, perfect as the beautiful body melting into hers, moving against her hand and her hips with graceful, needy rhythm. While her fingers maintained a steady, comfortable tempo, she sank to her knees in the water. When the tide settled, her face was mere inches from Janice's hips, and her own center was happily situated over the heel of her foot. "Mmm, better n' better..." she murmured. She wrapped her free arm around a muscled thigh and, with all the appetite of a child in a candy store, fastened her lips onto the quivering knot of flesh at Janice's center.
Janice's body was primed and ready for that first intimate, electric kiss. She gasped, loudly, as if burned, but instead of withdrawing from the fire, she melted into it, savoring the intensity, and the bite. With one impeccably timed, skillfully executed maneuver, she was reduced to dog brains, barely conscious of the little noises she made as Mel's tongue mercilessly batted her clit. Her legs wobbled, watery; she didn't know how much longer she could remain standing under such an enthusiastic assault.
Mel felt a pair of hands tangle in her hair; without pausing in her work, she spared her partner an upward glance. The sight of Janice, eyes closed, mouth open, a hot spray of water hammering her teeth and tongue, thrilled her as much as any touch. "Hey, now," she cooed, dipping her tongue into the well of Janice's navel; she could feel the muscles beneath her hands bunch and jump. "Can't have you drownin' on me," she said, shutting off the water. With her other hand, she curled her fingers inside Janice, seeking some elusive touchstone, all the while watching her lover's face, a barometer of arousal.
In the moments before she was reduced to a trembling bundle of bones and muscle, Janice looked down, into the face of a goddess, glistening wet, on her knees before her. Her world tilted and pitched, and when Mel's tongue divided her labia and speared her core, short, fiery bursts of pleasure began to flower in her. She fell to her knees in a boneless collapse, Mel's steadily pumping fingers still inside her. Pinprick bursts of light played against the screen of her tightly closed eyelids, and strong fingers dug into Mel's flesh as a delicious, dizzying sweetness overcame her…like being impaled on a candy cane. At the moment of release, she smothered her moans in the curve of Mel's shoulder. At some point, as her gasps turned to short, more even breaths and her heart rate slowed, she became aware of Mel's voice in her ear, whispering little endearments, and her arm around her waist, drawing her to rest across her thighs.
They sat there in the tepid water for a long moment, in a tender clinch, trading heartbeats and warm breaths. Eventually, Janice opened her eyes to find herself on the receiving end of a provocative smile. "Well, finally," Mel sighed good-naturedly as hot, slick flesh pulsed around her fingers. "My hand was beginnin' to cramp."