Message-ID: <47110asstr$1079471406@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: by_jane@literotica.org (jane) X-Original-Message-ID: <80045de.0403151709.70e38149@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 16 Mar 2004 01:09:03 +0000 (UTC) X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 15 Mar 2004 17:09:03 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Glimpses 35/94 by jane Lines: 222 Date: Tue, 16 Mar 2004 16:10:06 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: IceAltar, dennyw, hoisingr Author: jane Title: Glimpses 35/94 Summary: Tina makes two difficult decisions. Keywords: none Length: 1449 words Copyright: c. 2004 *8 April 1997, Tuesday* _luck, one might imagine, ought to be apportioned fairly over time ... yet, over cultures? no ... history gives a sadder lesson there ... the two that anna thought so lucky on that beach, repacked their bags in different solitudes and passed through customs to a different windy city ... mai curled her body lazily in shapes that fortune crafted for her ... that moved her elsewhere in the universe ... fate led her to the sections of the trib that dealt with jobs in far off places ... she gave her notice at the u of c inside a week of her return from mexico ... tina, meanwhile, counted up her blessings ... her holiday had left her full of passion ... the gods had offered her a choice of lovers, each one safe, each one devoted ... she made a plan to finish her degree ... to learn to throw some pottery ... to read the rest of peters shelves of books ... to have a child ... there were no boundaries if things were managed well ... poor anna had no luck at all ... faced reality without a lucky tooth of shark ... more fearful than before about the dark side of her mind ... lol ... and what advanced degree in gambling gave me leave to theorize on luck? samsara u, id say one night to tina glibly ... giddy on her wine ... chicago_ *§* Tina placed the cast iron pot upon its trivet. Tea wasn't what her body craved. Their round, oak dining table, the one she'd stripped and sanded with her husband in their maiden year of marriage, was not the place she'd hoped to be with Mai that afternoon. She tried to read Mai's worry lines. The afternoon had been too formal; the conversation, stiff. Things were going nowhere, Tina thought. The time was stolen, evaporating like the trail of steam escaping from the kettle. "What's wrong? Just talk to me." "I did not say that things were wrong." "I tried to call you all last week. Even at the U. Where were you?" "I have been quite busy, Tina." "Not that busy. Something's different now. What's happened?" "Things change. That is their nature." "I still love you just the same." "I have missed you every day. It is hard to sit here now, to watch your happiness. Joy makes you beautiful." "Mai. You're scaring me." She reached across the table and touched her warm, brown wrist. "Please, come to bed with me." "The tea. We must talk first." No counter-touch, no move to loosen clothing, no slight intention toward the bedroom eased her apprehension. "Then, tell me what it is." "It is not you, Tina." Mai raised the heavy pot and tilted it both left and right to speed its steeping. The scent of smoke and almond gently reached across the dining room. "I am leaving." "You just came. You haven't even had your tea." Tina clasped the hand as if preventing its escape. "Peter won't be home from work till six. We've still got time. Please, stay." "I am leaving the city." "But, no. You just got moved," she reasoned. "You hate commuting. You hate the 'burbs." It made no sense. Reasons flooded through her mind why this was foolish, would make things harder for them both. "You'll be too far from us, from me. No, don't. I need you closer. Let's talk about it. Please." "I have given notice. I am moving away. Far away. Toronto." It shocked her silent. It took away her voice. _No. No, you can't. Not now. Not here. You didn't say it. You said you might. You won't. I love you, Mai. You can't._ "I cannot be here anymore. It is too hard. Chicago has too many evil memories. I have known this for awhile. I could not find a way to tell you easily." Tina fought to make her lips and tongue form words. _I need you_, tried to move her vocal cords. Instead, they moved her lachrymals. Tears overflowed and drowned her reasons. "I must go. I cannot be so close to you and Peter." Mai stroked her lover's arm. Tina didn't feel it. She knew distinctly, though she didn't hear, the solemn plea that followed, "If you would come with me ..." The sentence had no need of predicates or subjects. A storm of dream lives swirled between them. Distances and times drove past. A battle raged. Mute, without the benefit of eye contact, word-soldiers raised their heads above the trenches and met their horrid deaths in massive numbers, nameless, without glory. The tea grew tepid. Tina pushed her chair back from the table, stood carefully as if her legs might fail her. "No," struggled through the pain, the scrape of chair, the roar of fear and anger in her brain. "No. We have to talk this out. You can't decide it on your own. You have no right to make me choose." "I must decide for me." Tina walked around the table. Found her lover's arms. She hid her tears in hanks of raven hair and whispered, "Yes, we'll talk. Not now. I need your body now. Make love to me." Mai held her tightly. She rubbed her face against the wet of Tina's cheeks to dry them. She didn't use her lips to acquiesce. She didn't start undressing her. She said her name; she called her _snälla_, called her _lilla_, with the best L's she could muster. Mai didn't speak when Tina begged her, "Please. I need you." Tina thought she heard Mai whisper, "Come with me," but it was just a vagrant echo coming back from other times and distant places. "Make love to me," asked Tina. Mai told her it would be alright. Mai told her not to worry. Mai told her just to close her eyes and think of Mexico and oceans. Mai combed her straight blonde hair and kissed it. Mai held her arms each time she tried to slip her fingers under clothing. Mai balked each time she the tried to move them to the bed or couch or floor. "I have decided. You must, too." "Just make me cum." She fought to press her lips to Mai's. Mai pushed her back. "It is time for me to go. I will not be here when Peter comes home today. I cannot see him." Tina sank back to the chair. The antique table tipped a little. She heard the closing door. There was a sound, like someone sobbing. There was a wetness on the tabletop. Perhaps the tea had spilled. *§* There were the gentle fingers of a hand across her shoulder. A voice that crooned her name and said he loved her. Arms lifted her and carried her into the bedroom. Questions dazzled her, like sudden spotlights on a stage. "Are you okay?" he kept repeating. "What happened?" said with greater tenderness. "Please talk to me," he whispered in her ear as if he cared for her, as if he'd promise to take away the pain. "Let me help," he begged as he undressed her. A facecloth soothed her aching eyes. Tina knew there was no need for words. She understood the simple ways to make things right. A simple touch along his groin. Then he would do the rest. He'd knead her breasts with gentle hands. He'd find her nipples with a grit of whisker still unshaved since early morning. He'd use his mouth just like she thought a baby might. He'd take the stress away; he'd line them up and execute the reasons she was crying, use his strength and use his passion. She'd only need to brush his keen tumescence now and then to keep his interest up, to mutter "Fuck me," something slutty, something crude to make him nuts. He'd think that she'd been lonely all that time when she'd denied him. "Fuck me harder!" she'd exclaim as if she really meant it. She'd let him use his tongue between her buttocks. She'd cum for him. Fake it if she had to. She let him, when his body stiffened to its limits deep inside her wet vagina, forget to use the condom. She'd know that's what he wanted. She wouldn't ask herself important questions. She'd keep it simple. She'd make herself a gift to him; she'd bridge the chasms she'd created. She'd be the crazy woman that had swept him off his feet. She'd keep him smiling, make him think that she was wild. Seducing Peter was too easy to be fun. Each time that night his body snuggled closer or stirred in restlessness, she woke him with her mouth on his and took his seed again. He laughed. He teased. _Perhaps he thinks his luck has finally changed. Perhaps it's disappeared completely._ This story cannot be reposted or published without the author's permission. 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