A Wee Away

The gig at the Blue Lagoon had been dead tonight. Alina sighed as she trumped up the stairs to her apartment. Pushing thirty, putting herself out there, and all she got for her heart and soul was a few free drinks and a bunch of bartenders telling her, "maybe next week."

As she turned her key in the rusty lock, Maxine came up and meowed, twining between her feet.

"Hey baby, who let you out?" she stroked the cat, and jiggled her key in the lock some more. Finally it turned, popping the door open. Inside, she smelled fresh tea brewing, day-old incense, and the faint but pervasive smell of dirty girl-clothes. Her housemate Sky brushed past, wearing pajama bottoms and a spaghetti strap top that was falling off one shoulder. She said, "Hey 'Lia."

Alina followed her into the kitchen saying, "Hey Sky. What kind of tea are you making?"

"This raspberry chai I just got. I haven't decided what I think of it yet. Want some?"

Alina made a face, "No... I think I'll pass."

"Oh, that package came for you," Sky said, pointing at the table, "How was the show?"

"It was fine," 'Lia said. She picked up a large envelope sticking out on the table. It was curiously blank, marked only with her name and address.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, causing Sky to jump up. She paused half-way to the door to say, "Hey, I forgot to mention... I've got this date tonight, I hope you don't mind!"

"No... no problem," 'Lia said to Sky's retreating backside. She sighed, grabbed the envelope and headed upstairs to her own room. Maxine followed her up, rushing into the bedroom and curling up on a chair piled with clothes. Clean or dirty? Alina decided she didn't care.

She closed the door, but it didn't block out the sounds of giggling and flirting from downstairs. She slowly undressed, considered taking a shower, but decided she was too tired. She looked at herself in the mirror. Slender, attractive, she still had her figure. Her breasts were not large, but her waist was deliciously narrow, giving her hips a sensual flare. She turned to admire herself from the side, trying to ignore the places she didn't like.

"Why the fuck am I single?" She said out loud to Maxine. The cat did not stir. 'Lia let her clothes fall where they would on the floor, looked once balefully at her music stand, and then threw herself onto the bed.

A tell-tale creaking sound came from the wall that joined with Sky's room.

"Jesus, already Sky?" Alina whispered. She hadn't got a good look at this one, but the last three guys Sky had had over had each been different. 'Lia sometimes had her suspicions about the nature of these 'dates.'

The creaking turned into outright banging as the head of Sky's bed started hitting the wall with each of their thrusts. 'Lia banged her fist on the wall three times, and the knocking stopped briefly. She rolled over, but within two minutes, the banging started again.

It didn't help that she felt so wound up, herself. Trying to ignore the circus next door, she rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes. She ran her fingers through her hair. After a moment, she speculatively brushed her fingers across her body, touching her breasts, her belly... lower.

She let her legs part, lifting her knees slightly. Her fingers drifted between her legs, first just tickling, then massaging. She pressed the skin on either side closed and rubbed gently from the outside. A shiver of familiar pleasure ran through her. She felt decadent and dirty, touching herself while she listened to someone else fuck.

But the feeling didn't last. The banging on the wall was too distracting.

Sighing in frustration, she stood up and pulled on her pajamas. She stroked Maxine, who looked up at her with slitted eyes, then deighned to purr, resting her head on her paws and letting her eyes squint shut again. 'Lia asked, "What am I doing, Maxine?"

Her eye fell on the envelope she had brought up from downstairs. Examining it, she discovered that it looked so curiously blank because there was no return sender marked. She took it to her bed and sat down, carefully ripping the envelope open. A few photographs fell out, along with some other papers.

She picked up the photographs first. There were three, and they each appeared to be of the same house. It looked like a nice, if somewhat rustic home. Heavily forested mountains rose in the background, and one photograph showed what she assumed must be the back porch, overlooking a crystal-blue lake.

She sorted through the other papers that fell out. Two of them were airline tickets, one dated a month away for a flight to Colorado, and one a week later for a return flight back home to San Francisco.

Finally, she picked up the last paper, a crisp piece of white stationary with one statement in a strong, familiar hand, "Meet me there --Ashton."