Chapter 15

A week after their arrival in Paris, they premiered the European tour at the historic Olympic. It hadn’t sold out, but it sounded like it did. Thunderous applause from the three quarters full auditorium. Extended standing ovations after every set. Some left after the Monsters set, which had always happened. Not many though. Probably a savvier businessman would have reversed the orders of the sets. The earlier ones being like opening acts. The Monsters had all the hits after all, and Eddie would have exposed them to his newer stuff. And Rhonda. But this was Eddie. It wasn’t about business, savvy or not. It was about music. Rock and roll. Irreverence. In a way, in Eddie’s way, it was a big fuck you. To expectations. To those who left early. And missed most of the good shit. Not so much because the Monsters were better than the rest of the show. But because the rest of the show was just as good.

And every set was long. Eddie wished they could have been longer, or that the show could have started earlier. But seven was as early as feasible. Another fuck you, because the audience, if they wanted the Monsters, had to arrive on time. It kicked off exactly at 7. The posters even said that.

Eddie settled for an hour and a half for each set. Or at least the first two. The last tended to extend much longer. An extended crescendo was how Eddie thought of it. Joe agreed.

The final note of the first encore of the third set silenced at midnight. A nearly perfect balance of time for all sets. An hour and a half each, with 10 minutes between them, about half of which actually contained the choral overtures. Five minute overture beginning the concert.

The second encore, however, didn’t end the concert until 1. A bluesy jazz jam. Usually just with Joe, Nate and Belle behind Eddie. Jacques was just lazy. Charlie wasn’t as comfortable improvising. But Claire was, so she added her keyboard.

Another fuck you, most of the audience left. The ones that remained heard Eddie’s brilliance on guitar. Some of the most beautiful solos ever heard. Pretty much every single night. Every one of them different.

So when Marguerite came back stage, she was elated, overwhelmed, and exhausted. Joe saw her, came to her and hugged her, giving her the cheek kisses that she had given him. “How was it?”

“Incroyable,” she murmured. “I don’t much like long showy guitar solos, but...”

“I know,” Joe chuckled. “My friend the genius.”

“Can I meet him?”

“Give him some time. He likes his silence after a show. Hang with me?”

“Okay,” she grinned.

Her daughter figured out that the passes were good whenever. Most didn’t know, so there weren’t many strangers back stage. But she wanted to meet Rhonda, especially when her mother told her she was a lesbian. So she entered the back stage after Rhonda’s set and introduced herself bravely. Except when Rhonda joined MIRE late in the last set, they became inseparable.

“We did end up spawning a relationship. Just not us,” said Joe.

“What do you mean?”

“Theresa and Rhonda met.”

“I figured Terry must have gotten back stage.”

“She did. And they’ve been together ever since. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“Even if she might be coaxed to join our traveling show?”

“I’d miss her. But truthfully she’s never been the best waitress,” she giggled. “She sings. A really sweet voice. Writes her own songs. She’s a brave girl, but shy about that.”

“Interesting,” Joe grinned. “School?”

“Just finished. Wanted a year off before college.”

“Perfect.”

“Perfect? You think ... this will continue?”

“Hard to know. But Rhonda has never made friends easily. I’m not sure about lovers, but I have a feeling that’s been limited as well.”

“Not my daughter. She’s already broken a heart or two. And makes friends easily. Like I said, she’s a bold young woman.”

“I hope she doesn’t break Rhonda’s heart.”

“Me too. Perhaps I’ll talk to her.”

“And I’ll warn Rhonda.”

“Terry mostly has a sweet disposition. But she can get distracted. And impatient. Hence her lack of skill as a server.”

“Even more reason to warn Rhonda.”

“I suppose it is. Maybe this wasn’t such a lucky thing.”

“Too late,” Joe shrugged.

“Two headstrong girls.”

“Exactly.”

Joe could already tell the two young ladies were different. Physically, Theresa was shorter than Rhonda by several inches. Rounded. Buxom like her mother. But young, so things held up more and there was less thickness between tits and ass. Her face classically beautiful, edging towards cuteness. Her long wavy dirty blonde hair also conformed to the classic babe. She reminded Joe most of Cheryl. While Rhonda’s beauty was anything but classical. More unique and interesting and not immediately apparent. Her taller body also didn’t have the obvious attraction. More supple. And subtle. Oddly more like Moe than her actual mother. The fullness of her breasts and ass a happy surprise for those lucky enough to see them. Or appreciate them appropriately like her father did. He also appreciated her thick brunette hair. On the unmanageable side, but she looked good in the braids she used to accommodate. Joe had helped her with them many times.

Their character as well was different. Rhonda was a confident young woman, but quiet and stingy with words. When she talked, it usually was something significant. You knew to listen to her, because it was important. Theresa seemed effusive and chatty. The sort who could talk nonstop without ever seeming to take a breath. Not that she clearly demonstrated that tendency most of the time. She could also listen, which she did with awe and respect. But when let loose, she could let loose a seemingly endless string of sentences. Which, Joe also noticed, amused Rhonda. Hopefully it wouldn’t end up annoying her. Time would tell.

“Dad, this is Terry,” his daughter finally said. For a while, no one else entered her consciousness.

“We’ve met,” Joe smiled.

“Hi Mom,” said Theresa. “This is Rhonda.”

“I know,” Marguerite chuckled. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Marguerite.”

“The pleasure is mine, Marguerite,” Rhonda demonstrated her maturity. “Since you are the one responsible for raising such a marvelous creature.”

Both mother and daughter blushed. Marguerite also chuckled. “You have my permission.”

“Permission?” Rhonda smiled.

“I believe you Americans call it buttering up? You needn’t. Terry is her own woman. You wish to get to know my daughter better?”

“I do. I believe Terry wishes the same.”

“I do,” Theresa giggled charmingly. “Is it really alright Mother?”

“Yes dear.”

“Dad?” Rhonda asked.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Joe debated asking to speak with her privately, and decided it would be best to wait. See how things panned out. He actually hoped things would. His daughter always had a bit of sadness to her. Loneliness. “We’ll let you two get better acquainted.”

“Thanks Dad,” Rhonda beamed. More than she ever had.

“Let’s go chat with Eddie, Marguerite,” said Joe. “You smoke marijuana?”

“I have a time or two,” Marguerite giggled.

As they walked away, she said, “Not the time?”

“No.”

“Probably right.”

“Headstrong young ladies.”

She nodded.

“Eddie, this is Marguerite. She buys your stuff as imports.”

“Thank you for that,” Eddie smiled and offered her the thick joint, halfway done. “Our new collection should be available next week. Domestically.”

Marguerite toked and handed off the joint to Joe. “Joe gave me one,” she breathed out smoke. “Good shit.”

“The music or the pot?” Eddie asked.

“Both,” she giggled. Her hand in her purse pulled out the CD. “Could you...”

“Of course.” He read Joe’s note. “Bookseller?”

“I inherited my father’s shop,” she said.

“Sorry for your loss.”

“He’s alive. Just lazy in his old age.”

“Good,” Eddie smiled.

“My favorite bookshop in Paris,” Joe added.

“The one with tons of books in English?”

“Yep.”

“One of my favorites as well. I wish I had time to stop by.”

“A couple days. We’re caravanning down to Barcelona.”

“Maybe tomorrow?”

“You going to be there?”

“Sans sleep,” she giggled, toking again.

“Ah well. Sorry about that.”

“I definitely got my money’s worth.”

“Good. That’s my intention.”

“Why not distribute your earlier MIRE work here?” she asked.

“You’d probably need to ask Rachel that. But she left early. Resting up for a long night,” he winked at Joe. Eddy definitely proving he had no qualms with Rachel and Joe sleeping together one on one. In fact, not having Rachel wrestle up a groupie was probably a relief.

“Rachel?” Marguerite asked Joe. “Another one?”

Eddie coughed out a laugh. “So she knows about your peculiar and envious home situation.”

“Rachel is basically Eddie’s significant other,” Joe explained.

“But she’s always had a thing for Joe,” Eddie added.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Long story,” both Eddie and Joe said. And laughed.

“I’m starting to be glad you refused to seduce me Joe.”

Eddie looked at her. Studied her. Found her sexy. “If you want, you can come home with us,” he said.

“Really?” she practically squeaked.

“If you’re interested. Joe has qualms. I don’t.”

“I’m interested.”

“Then come here,” he patted his lap.

She settled onto it. They began kissing. Lips separated. He whispered, “If you’re interested in Joe, there could be a substitute.”

“The guitarist looks like him,” she grinned. “I’ve never ... what the hell.” She kissed him even harder.

“You’ll be safe, Marguerite,” Joe said to her before leaving them to it. Walking toward Ginny.

“Uhm, Mr Solomon?” he heard. Theresa.

“Call me Joe,” Joe told her.

“Joe. My mom...”

He knelt lower. “You’re not okay with it?”

“Not my business. Just a little weird.”

“You want me to...”

“No. That would be weirder.”

“Let’s go,” he smiled at her. “Ready Rhonda?”

“I am.”

“Give me a minute.”

He gathered his stuff, including his bass. Stopping at Ginny, Celia beside her, he gave each a kiss.

“Leaving?” Ginny asked.

“Rhonda’s new paramour’s watching her mother act like a groupie.”

“Ah. We’ll come with.”

“Of course.”

Loading his bass and bag of accessories in the truck that would be hauling their equipment, he stepped into the limo. Everyone else already inside. Celia and Ginny made space between him.

“You okay Theresa?” Joe asked.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Your mother...”

“Is horny,” Theresa giggled. “Eddie makes her hot.”

“It’s been known to happen,” Joe smirked.

“It’s only fair,” she responded, and kissed Rhonda. By Rhonda’s reaction, Joe assumed it was their first. His daughter soon recovered and kissed back enthusiastically. Joe looked away.

“She’s seen you kiss me,” Ginny giggled.

“I know, but...”

“Let’s distract him Celi.”

“Good idea, Gin,” Celia giggled and pulled Joe into an intense kiss. When it ended, his head got turned the other way for another intense kiss.

“You know I’m with Rachel,” he said.

“We know,” Ginny said.

“We have fake Joe,” Celia added.

“And Celi definitely knows how to use it,” Ginny finished.

Joe got harder thinking of it. Each lady patted his reaction. And continued their distraction.

Joe’s cock pressed out his slacks when he walked into the chateau. Rhonda didn’t notice, but Rachel did.

“We prepped him,” Celia giggled.

“I can see that,” Rachel smirked. “Thanks ladies.” She guided him to a smaller room. Their trysting room. Where Joe did his best to fuck the bitch out of her, but only after they made love. A bath to relieve the roughness Joe did to her rectum, and sleep.

Meanwhile Theresa and Rhonda sat on the bed in a similar sized room. They kissed once more. “We should talk,” Rhonda said.

Theresa giggled. “I think we did that. A lot.”

“I know, but...”

Theresa became serious. “I’m teasing. Let’s talk, Ronnie.” She took Rhonda’s hand.

“First off, I really like you,” Rhonda began.

“I more than like you. I mean, I was a worshipful fan, but that kind of disappeared pretty quickly. Not that I’m not still your biggest fan. I just ... discovered a friend.”

“Me too,” Rhonda smiled. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, beautiful.”

“Am I?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. If you say so. It’s just that making friends isn’t easy for me. I mean I get along with people, but can’t ever get to that place with them. A place of trust. And maybe comfort. Or being interested. Or really wanting to get together. Whatever it is, I’ve only had one true friend.”

“Who?”

“A boy I’ve known for ten years.”

“A boyfriend?”

Rhonda chuckled. “Not what that implies.”

“So you’re...”

“Completely lesbian.”

“Me too.”

“Good to know,” Rhonda grinned and kissed her. “Bobby’s like us, inclined towards his own sex. We both kind of figured that out together when we tried making out. Our inclinations were there already, but I guess we tested it and proved how exclusionary it was concerning the opposite sex.”

“A test? You don’t think, being close friends, that might have been the issue?”

“No. There’s an attraction. We both agreed aesthetically or platonically perhaps that if we were interested we would be with each other. If that makes sense.”

“It does.”

“But that closeness ... we actually sleep together when I visit.”

“Visit?”

“Yeah. That’s the other thing. How strong the friendship is. It’s been long distance pretty much from the beginning. I see him maybe two or three times a year. Mostly when my dad visits his mom.”

“They’re like lovers?”

“They are,” Rhonda chuckled.

“One of his ladies?” Rhonda had told Theresa about her peculiar home life.

“A girlfriend.”

“So you’re best friend is miles away.”

“Bobby and I write each other letters. Poems sometimes. He’s a really good writer. Wants to follow in his dad’s footsteps. Wants to write his own movies like his father does. His dad is like this famous director. He really doesn’t like the guy, except the movies he makes. He especially didn’t like him when the old fat asshole made a pass at me. Fucking slimeball. Anyway, he got accepted at USC. It’s got a world renowned film program. In LA.”

“So he’s staying there.”

“And I’m moving there when we’re done with the tour. In his moms place until we get an apartment.”

“In his bed.”

“That’s the plan. Part of the move is to be with him. I actually spent most of the summer with him, and it was great.”

“Wow. You really do love him.”

“I do. Purely platonically like I said.”

“I understand.”

“He’s been my only real friend.”

“Perhaps a high bar?”

“Probably. Expectations. I don’t know. I just...”

“Just what?”

Rhonda shifted to face Theresa directly. “I feel that with you. And something else.”

“I think I like that something else,” Theresa giggled. “But ... if you don’t have ... if it’s hard for you to get close...”

“Twice,” Rhonda said.

“Twice?”

“I’ve been with two women. Actually a girl and a woman. A schoolmate my age was the first. I guess we took each other’s lesbian cherries. I really liked it. The sex. She was butch. Kind of tough. Kind of thick. But I liked her difference. And of course her similarities. She really liked me. Which was the problem.”

“You didn’t like her that way.”

“Exactly. I broke it off after the second time. The first time saying hello. The second time saying goodbye. She took it hard, which of course made me sad. But it would have been worse I think if I strung her along for the sex.”

“And you didn’t play with others after?”

“Just myself,” Rhonda giggled.

Theresa giggled too. “You’ll have to show me.”

“You too.”

“And the woman?”

“I met her at a party. One of my dad’s theater parties. She was at least twice my age. Shapely but in shape if you know what I mean. Beautiful. Blonde. Sure of herself. Dad invited her and her husband as possible investors, so I’d never met her. Her husband ... they were obviously beards. He was on the fey side of gentlemanly. Focused on Charlie, which is always a tell. She focused on Charlie’s sister, Essie...”

“Your dad’s wife,”

“Yep. Until she turned her focus on me, catching my stare. And smiled rather sinisterly. And beckoned me to her. It was really quite hot. When we exchanged names, I let her know I lived there. In the townhouse where the party was. She asked if we could go somewhere private. I took her to my room. We spent a couple days there.”

“A couple days?”

“Yep. She taught me everything I could possibly know about making love to a woman. Even took my actual cherry.”

“So dildos weren’t part of your masturbating.”

“Not until after that. But I discovered I preferred fucking rather than getting fucked.”

“Oh my. Did you two ... that was it then.”

“That was it. She called, but I was in LA. Dad told me.”

“Would you have... ?”

“In a New York second,” Rhonda grinned. “She was fun!”

They laughed.

Theresa sighed. “I think I know where you’re going with this. I have friends. And I’ve had girlfriends.”

“Had?”

“I know a girl, but it’s never serious.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. We get together when we’re horny. Mostly her calling me. She complains about boys.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m completely serious. She’s totally bi. But you’re not stealing me away from someone. I’m currently not seeing anyone. But I have had girlfriends. The relations never last.”

“Why?”

Theresa’s eyes pooled. “Because I’m a mean, selfish cunt, Ronnie. You don’t deserve me.”

“Explain,” Rhonda said. “Please.”

“It ... gets old. Not the sex so much, but the company. I feel stifled. Like a caged bird. I thought I liked them ... but I end up not liking them.”

“What don’t you like?”

“I don’t know. Their petty concerns. Their petty life. What’s important to them isn’t important to me. And maybe what’s worse, they don’t care what’s important to me. Maybe if they did, it could somehow work out. Maybe I’d care more about their little world if they cared more about mine.”

“What’s important to you Terry?”

Theresa looked at Rhonda and grinned. “Maybe you right now. You must be incredibly horny after going without for so long.”

“Not maybe,” Rhonda grinned back and pulled Theresa into the deepest kiss yet. They broke it to strip off their clothes as quickly as possible, resuming it on the bed, the smaller woman atop the taller one pressing down. When Theresa lips moved away, and down, Rhonda murmured, “Maybe a shower?”

“I want to taste the sweat of a rock star,” said Theresa. And did. Moving slowly down. “What a gorgeous body. I love your tits.”

“You too. Yours too,” Rhonda moaned, Theresa suckling one nipple and caressing the other with her fingertips. She explored this new body, but it wasn’t long before her mouth was on Rhonda’s pussy, her tongue ravishing it, her lips squeezing and sucking the clit which popped out naked and erect from its hood, bringing Rhonda her first orgasm of the night, and perhaps the biggest of her life. There would be bigger ones later.

But not until after Rhonda turned the tables and explored her lover. Loving every moment of it. Every sense reveling in beauty. Even the pussy, with its various flavors, not all of which Rhonda created. And unlike Theresa with her, she teased, delayed, made Theresa beg, before bringing her over in an explosive orgasm. Also the biggest of Theresa’s life. So far.

“Shower?” Theresa murmured.

“How about a bath?”

“Sounds delightful.”

Theresa pissed while Rhonda prepared the bath with scented oils and soap. “Be right back,” she said, and put the robe on. The bathroom was down the hall after all. She found Claire and Belle in the kitchen nibbling on cheese and drinking white wine. “Could I get some of that?” she asked.

“Which?” Belle grinned. Happy to see Rhonda so sated. But not one to invade on privacy.

“Both actually.”

“There’s a bottle in the fridge,” said Claire, about to stand up.

“I’ll take care of it Claire.”

She made a plate of cheese and baguette. She uncorked the wine and stuffed the cork back in. She stopped before she exited. “Is there some of that brandy left?” she asked.

“Snifters?” Claire asked.

“Yes.”

“Let me pour you some. You can come back for them.”

“Just leave them on the bar.”

“Okay.”

Rhonda rushed back to her room and placed the food and wine on a table. She then went to Joe’s room, knowing just Ginny and Celia would be there.

“Having fun?” Ginny grinned, lying naked under the sheet with Celia.

“Yes,” Rhonda giggled. “Uhm, where’s the stash?”

“Stash?”

“Uhm, the sex toys?”

Celia laughed. “Be nice Celi,” Ginny giggled. She leaned over, exposing her fair skin and lovely torso. Rhonda barely noticed. Sliding a drawer out from the side table, Rhonda went to it and looked. “Oh my.”

“Whatever you need, Ronnie,” said Ginny. “Everything’s clean.”

“Of course,” Rhonda blushed and grabbed a Joe sized dildo, a vibrator and a harness.

“Good choices,” Ginny said. She decided not to tell Rhonda the significance of the long thick dildo. “Lube.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

All three ladies laughed.

However Ginny suggested, “Though with the dildo, and the vibrator, especially if it’s going where I think it’s going, you should grab the lube.”

Rhonda’s blush intensified. “Okay.” And grabbed the tube.

“Have fun,” said Celia.

“I will.”

After securing the tools in her own bedside drawer, Rhonda hurried to snatch the Armagnac and bring it to the bathroom.

“I was wondering,” Theresa said, already in the tub, taking the less comfortable positon with the spouts behind her.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I can be impatient. I won’t be with you.”

“Everyone gets impatient sometimes,” Rhonda said, handing Theresa the snifter.

“Thanks. Let’s just say I don’t want to be that way with you. It’s a character flaw. Call me on it.”

“Then call mine on me. But only if it’s a loving nudge.”

“That would be best,” Theresa agreed. “I know what pushing buttons looks like.”

Rhonda pissed and settled into the bath across from Theresa.

“Your parents?” Rhonda asked.

“Yes. Real fucking battles. I was glad when that asshole left. Got some peace. My mom too. Your parents? Never mind,” she chuckled.

“Oh, buttons got pushed,” said Rhonda. “Mostly with Aunt Moira. My mom ... I almost wish they’d had a fight. She just left. Kind of surprised me. Hurt me. But we’re good now.”

“Your dad?”

Rhonda chuckled. “Talk about patience. That man can diffuse anything. Kids are supposed to hate their parents at least some time in their adolescence. It’s really hard to hate my dad.”

“A good problem to have.”

“It is. Your mom?”

“We’ve always got along really well. Like sisters. Maybe she should have been more of a mother to me.”

“What do you mean? Like give you a spanking?”

“Maybe. I don’t think I’m spoiled. Mom expected me to hold my own. You know, sharing housework and cooking and such.”

“You can cook?”

“Pretty well.”

“Cool. You should show me.”

“Uhm...”

“Getting ahead of myself?”

“Rhonda. I really like you...”

“But...”

“Maybe even love you a little. I mean I’ve never felt this. This attraction. This...”

“Bond?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. It’s weird. I don’t even think I should say it. But the thought of this time together ending...”

“You can say it. I dread it as well.”

“Then don’t. Leave I mean.”

“Are you sure?”

“How can anyone be sure this early on?”

“I suppose not. You asked me what I find important. This is.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know why we have two eyes and two ears?”

“It’s a way to view the world three dimensionally. To see distances. Balance, for the ears.”

“Perspective.”

“Okay?”

“Love is another way to gain perspective. For instance, my mom and me, I think the only really loving relationship I’ve had. Until now.”

“Go ahead,” Rhonda murmured, moving closer, as did Theresa. Their pussies nearly touching.

“We have two perspectives on the world. She’s older, obviously, and has a lot more experience. Even so, I’ve had my own experiences. Sharing them, her older wisdom, my younger learning, broadens the world immensely for both of us. Gives us both what the other has. The individual universes which otherwise gets singular because we’re all trapped in our heads. So far no one had ever read someone’s mind. Even if its been dreamt up by science fiction.”

“Sometimes I think my father does. He’s extremely empathetic.”

“He’s loving.”

“To say the least.”

“It’s wanting to get inside someone.” They laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. But with my dad, getting inside actually can be a physical thing. At least partly. My mom explained it to me.”

“Your mom explained your dad’s sex life?”

“Mom doesn’t censor herself. Sex has always been an open book with her. I think my dad was the one to censor her. At least until I was older and could at least relate to what it meant physically. But I had one of my more significant moments of confusion.”

“I imagine your home life was confusing.”

“Only when compared to others. I grew up in mine.”

“Makes sense.”

“Pat answer. But it’s true.”

Theresa nodded, understanding the need.

“It was the time when my first relationship ended, meanly I suppose, just like you, and for the same reason.”

Theresa nodded again and smiled and pulled her closer until their pussies did touch and kissed her. “Go ahead,” she said.

“You’re making it harder.”

“I thought only a man gets harder.”

“I beg to differ,” bringing Theresa’s hand to her nipples and down to her clit. Where it remained. Her other hand at the nipples.

“Go on.”

They giggled, Rhonda’s with a touch of a sigh in it. “Anyway,” she managed to continue, “I was mostly okay with my lesbianism. Hurting her bothered me. How did people find each other? Stick with each other? And why just two. Whether conventional, man and wife, or gay couples, of which I knew a few. Friends of my parents mostly. One of them a lover. What made Joe different? Him and his three wives and several girlfriends.

“Mom told me about his extraordinary empathy. That he understood a woman’s need. To be loved. To be fulfilled. To be satisfied. And that’s what he did for them. For her. Why their marriage was so unconventional. He made love to her, and solved her problem.”

“Her problem?”

“Frigidity? Not really, but it seemed like that, because her lovers always came before she did, and did little to get her off. Until Joe. He always made sure. And she ended up becoming a slut.”

“She told you that?”

“No censorship. She’s not one anymore by the way. But they realized it was important to him. To essentially save women by being a great lover and a good guy. They never had a monogamous relationship.”

“In my view of things,” Theresa responded, “Joe might be the most aware human ever. All those perspectives being shared.”

“Including several kids,” Rhonda giggled. “I have several half sisters and brothers.”

“Is he close with them?”

“When he can be. His work...”

“And his women.”

“Them too. But when he’s with us, each of us kids, it’s always one-on-one. No distractions. He’s a remarkable dad.”

“A remarkable man.”

“A mensch.”

“Sounds like.”

“So this philosophy,” Rhonda cued her.

“We’re not so different. I’m even jealous of your friendship with Bobby. Even with as many friends as I’ve made, none have really been best friends. At least not since adolescence. But the earlier ones would have been playmates. Not exactly deep. So never. And my relationships have been like yours. At least your first one. Cruelly ending because I couldn’t love them when they wanted me to. I thought I was being selfish and impatient, but maybe you were right. I shouldn’t have strung them along. That was my selfishness. But, the bottom line is, you’re exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

“You are too.”

“To share the world.”

“Yes.”

“To share perspective.”

“Yes.”

They kissed. Intensely. Then Theresa’s mouth lowered to Rhonda’s breasts. Rhonda reached past her to unstop the drain. The hand moved to Theresa’s breasts. The other to her pussy. Fingers of each got squeezed by the pussies needing contact. Pressing and rubbing. Fucking. But not quite getting there. “Bed,” Theresa moaned.