Day 85

I stayed out in the pool until I pickled, then got my things and went to shower. I scrubbed myself raw trying to clean the pain and shame off of me, soaping and scrubbing as I sobbed in the shower. When I came back to myself I turned the water as hot as I could stand it, turning slowly in the spray for a long time. After I got out and dried off, I put on my dirty clothes from the day before.

I was sore and exhausted, but still didn't feel like sleeping, so after I dressed I went to the dining room near the buffet to get some coffee and wait for the hot breakfast items to be set out. I had my journal with me, so I spent those early morning hours writing all this. My hand was sore by the time I saw Ice Cream and her friends come in for an early breakfast before leaving for the airport. She looked so different in her uniform. She saw me by myself and came to sit with me after she got coffee and a danish.

"May I join you?"

"Sure."

"I had fun last night." She was smiling at me. I looked at her hands holding the cup, remembering them twisting and pulling at my flesh. The pain she gave me had blocked out other, deeper wounds, and I found myself wanting that oblivion again. "I'm off tomorrow, if you want to do something. Maybe meet in the bar again late tonight?"

I looked deep into her eyes, trying to find a reason to say no. She seemed oblivious to my pain, focused on her own desire and seeing me as a way to satisfy it. I felt like a tool she was using to masturbate with, but didn't really care anymore. "I'll see you then."

She seemed a little embarrassed for a second, then leaned over the table to kiss me. I found my passion rising as she lingered, despite my own darkness, and I reached out to hold the back of her head, keeping her lips on mine for longer than she intended. My open mouth invited her tongue, and she ran it along my lips and teeth. The kiss seemed to inflame her. She pulled back to stare at me with a sigh and hungry expression. "I don't even know your name. I'm Lydia."

"I'm Kate." It felt more like a confession than an introduction, as if a thin film had been lifted away from my eyes and the world seemed sharper and clearer because of it.

"Well, Kate, I will have a bounce in my step all day today because of you. See you tonight!" As she pulled her rolling bag away to join her friends waiting at the entry way, I saw my whole family standing there, staring at us. My mother had such a wounded look, like I had done something significant that disappointed her in some way. Jules actually had tears in her eyes and John glared after Lydia like he wanted to kill her. I didn't care, fuck them all. I looked down to continue writing.

The family got their food and drinks and sat at the tables around mine, making a kind of protective circle. They spoke quietly, with none of the frenetic chatter I'd come to expect. Jules and John sat at my table with me, eating quietly, not wanting to be the first to speak. I could see Jules reading along as I wrote, but ignored them both. I could hear my little cousin asking his father why I kissed that girl.

I answered to myself. I kissed her for the same reason I pressed a bruise. The same reason my tongue always touched a loose tooth. The same reason I peeled a sunburn. I kissed her because I wanted to, just like Jules said, and I had no reason not to.

"Please talk to me." Jules voice was breaking as she stared into her plate.

"What would you like me to say."

"I don't care, anything you want. Just don't push me away anymore, this is killing me."

"Dreams die everyday, Jules. Why should today be any different."

"Kate, stop it. I still don't know why you are so angry, but you are being cruel."

"You don't know why I'm angry? Seriously?" I was whispering to keep from making a scene, but boiling inside. "I'm sure Jules can explain it to you."

"Kate, I'm so sorry, but you had to know. It would have been worse if you continued to believe your fantasy, trust me. You need to deal with how things actually are, not obsess over how you want them to be. I'm not perfect, neither is John, but we do love you. Please stop hurting yourself, it's not your fault."

I almost said what I really wanted to say, but a wave of rage and pain lifted it away. "You don't need to worry about me, I'm fine. Lydia and I had a wonderful time last night and she even offered to spend the day with me tomorrow." I looked up then, glaring back and forth between them. "As for love, I think I'm done with that for now. Let's agree to put away those childish notions and deal with things as they really are. I have no illusions left, life is pleasure and pain, that is all. Nothing more. Right?"

I stood and announced I was too tired for the park and would be staying in the room to rest. No one said anything to me. Mom had tears in her eyes. I left and crawled into the bed I had shared with Jules, too tired to even cry.

When I woke, it was dark and I didn't know at first if it was morning still or evening. I checked the clock and realized I just had enough time to shower and dress for my date with Lydia. It was nice to find myself recovered and no longer sore, but I had to dab a bit of makeup on my bruised nose. I picked out a slinky black dress and flat black sandals, not wanting to tower over her in heels. I didn't bother with panty hose, it would just get in the way.

I packed for an overnight stay in a small bag, bringing along some personal items and a change of clothes, not sure if Lydia would kick me out again or not. I didn't really care either way. The bag wasn't much larger than a purse, so it didn't look too presumptuous. I left a note for Mom explaining I'd be away and had my cell phone if she needed to reach me.

I felt utterly calm as the elevator took me down, no fluttery stomach, no heightened anticipation, just a slight sense of arousal, but even that seemed dull somehow. I walked from the elevator to the bar and heard shouting in the distance, then realized it was Jules. Standing close to Lydia just outside the hotel bar, Jules was shouting and gesturing wildly about something.

"You don't know what you're doing to her! She is in pain right now, and you are making it worse."

"She is a grown woman and can decide for herself. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it's wrong or bad."

"I have been her best friend for years, I was with her when her father died, I have seen her happy and miserable, and I know..."

"What do you know, Jules." I had heard enough and was sick of hearing her talk.

"Please, Kate, come back with me and John." She was crying hard, harder than she had in the bathroom of that other hotel when she thought she'd lost me. She took my hand, pulling at me. "We need some time to talk and heal. Let's go to the beach, like we said. He is so angry with me he won't even look at me. This is tearing me apart!"

"Yes, I know how that feels. I have plans, but maybe some other time. Lydia, are you ready to go?" She led me away toward the exit to the parking garage. Jules stood in the middle of the wide promenade crying and watched us go. I only looked back once.

We drove away from the hotel in a generic sedan rental. Lydia had a victorious smirk that I wanted to slap off of her face. Instead I looked out the window and watched the cars around us.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I know of a quiet area nearby, locals mostly, away from the regular tourist traps. Do you like middle eastern food?"

"I like hummas, stuff like that, sure."

We drove in silence, but she tried to make conversation occasionally. I wasn't in a particularly talkative mood. She pulled off the freeway into a picturesque neighborhood with an old fashioned town square and a park in the middle. After parking the car down a side street, we held hands and walked along the busy sidewalk looking into different stores, restaurants, and bars. It was lovely, but I kept pushing away random thoughts of how Jules or John would love the different things I saw.

The restaurant she selected had a woody brown decor, with old brass and lovely artwork in muted colors. I let her order for me, because I didn't really care what I ate. I found it hard to converse normally, finding small bombs of pain in most of her questions. I asked her questions, which kept us in safe areas. She had travelled extensively, all over the world, and had wonderful stories. In another place or time I might have been fascinated with her, but I ate my food, tasting nothing.

After our meal, we walked in the park, holding hands and stopping to sit when the mood struck us. She was like a kitten that wanted to be petted, trying to put her head under my hand for a scratch. It was amusing in a way to feel so disconnected. I could toy with her, get her especially aroused as we kissed and fondled each other, and yet was able to stand clear of it myself.

At one point, I had my hand up her dress, rubbing her mons through her hose and could even feel her large nub standing above her slit. She was breathing hard into my mouth, clutching my arm to keep my hand where it was. She kissed me, the honey from the baklava scenting her breath and lips. I kept a steady pressure, moving slow circles against her mons with my fingertips. She made a frustrated growl and said, "Let's go to the car, I have to have you right now."

We returned to the car and she pulled me into the back seat, rolling her hose down as she sat. She wasn't wearing any panties under the hose, but the dark hair on her mons made her look like she was in the dim light. I shut the door and drew her close, pulling her legs into my lap and sliding my hand under her dress. She was soaked, with slick drops falling into my hand as she opened herself to me.

I kissed her, sliding my hand along her slit, working her thin opening with the side of my hand. She gasped, putting her hands behind my head to keep our kiss going, rubbing my face and ears with her fingers. I found a rhythm she seemed to like and kept it steady as she began to rock her hips. When her moment came, she sucked my lower lip into her mouth and bit hard.

The pain seemed to push the dullness away for a moment and I attacked her mouth with mine, pressing my fingers into her all the way, trying to measure her depths as my tongue pushed into her mouth. She responded to my outburst of energy and muttered, "There's my girl."

She pulled my hair, kissing along my neck to the plunging neckline of my dress, nibbling at the edges of my bra, licking as she pushed down my dress and the cup over my breast. I lifted my chest to make it easier. Her mouth covered my nipple, her tongue teasing it up for her teeth to bite. I groaned out loud, unable to tell from the sound if it was from pain or pleasure.

She pushed me down into the seat, twisting her lithe body as she mashed my dress up, exposing my panties. After she pushed them to one side, she put her mouth on me for the first time, sucking on my inner lips, biting my mons as if she wanted to eat my sex. She was so different from either Jules or John, hungry for her own pleasure alone, I had to chase my own release from what she gave me. As I finally caught it, my toes curled and I cried out, her arms sliding under my legs to hold me open as she kept eating me.

I was too sensitive, but she was relentless and pushed me into an avalanche of pleasure, making me cry myself hoarse. When she was satisfied, she sat up and moved my legs into her lap, tracing between my sandal straps and toes. The windows of the car were completely fogged, defusing the light from outside into a glow.

"You are amazing, you know. I've never met anyone like you." I had nothing to say to her that she would enjoy hearing. "I love your anger and heat, you hold nothing back. I was afraid you were stuck in a bad mood, but you warmed up nicely. Let's go back to the hotel for round two. I brought some toys this time." She kissed my foot and toes for a bit, then climbed out of the back seat with a wicked grin.

I straightened out my panties and went around to the passenger seat, feeling the dullness creeping back in. As we drove she chatted away, describing in detail the implements of pleasure and torture she had waiting for me in her room. I kept my eyes on her to feign interest, but my mind was still, an empty wasteland of nothing. The only bright sparks came when she described her toys as I imagined her hitting me, biting me, making me feel something.

As we walked through the hotel, she held my hand, smiling and chattering away about the friends she worked with. I vaguely tracked some of it, but mostly just ignored her. As we passed the bar, I saw John sitting alone. We stared at each other I as passed, neither one of us showing any expression. He looked as dead as I felt. Good, I thought.

In the elevator, Lydia tried to get me going by pressing me against the wall and running her hands up my dress as I'd done to her the night before. It was warming, but did not strike the spark she hoped, I think. In the room, she had her suitcase open on the desk with a variety of items that I'd seen in sex shops or on the web in porn. The bedding was on the floor, leaving just the fitted sheet and pillows on the mattress.