Dynamics of a Human Heart

We watched our friends grow up together

And we watched them as they fell.

Some of them fell into Heaven.

Some of them fell into Hell.

-The Pogues "A Rainy Night in Soho"

"Let's go ouuuu-wwoooooooo—out tonight!!"

I'm dead.

"Oh, take me ouuuu-wwoooooooow—out tonight!!"

I am dead and I am in Hell and I'm being tortured for my "sinful" ways. I can hear mom saying, "I told you so" from here.

Miranda opened one, bleary, violet eye and scowled as she lay face down upon the mattress. Sam was busy spinning around in her wheelchair and blasting "Rent".

"I wanna go. Take me ouuuu-wwoooooooow—out tonight!!"

And singing. Badly.

"Why, why do you hate me, Sammy?" Miranda groaned

Sam turned with a Cheshire grin, "Ah the dead have risen!" she cried out.

"The dead would appreciate it if you would stop screeching so they may rest in peace." Miranda complained.

Sam folded her hands over heart and pouted, "Sweet sister, you wound me!"

"I'm about to! And do not call me 'sister'. Incest isn't quite the aphrodisiac you seem to think it is."

"Awww, you're no fun."

"I have a partially paralyzed mouth that says otherwise, Sammy."

Sam responded by, wheeling over to her, then spinning around and tilting her chair, toppling over backwards and depositing her form on top of her.

"Ooof!" she cried out as Sam's weight hit her.

"Don't call me 'Sammy'," she replied cheerfully. She then proceeded to kiss Miranda's dark hair before bringing a hand up and down, smacking her pale derriere with a deafening

crack!!

"Oww! Motherfu-!!" Miranda began before catching Sam's eye and swallowing down her curse.

"Aww, c'mon, I almost had you there," Sam pouted with those perfect lips of hers.

"Dream on."

Sam shrugged, "Oh well, consolation prize:" she declared as she proceeded to grab Miranda's buttocks, squeezing the tight globes of alabaster skin possessively, "laying waste to this beautiful ass."

Miranda smiled and stretched out a little. This was actually one of her more favorite games. Gingerly, she rotated her hips to present her backside to her lover, one side of which was sporting an impressive crimson handprint and was quite flushed.

She drew Sam's eye to the other perfectly formed and wholly unmolested cheek "Lopsided," she whispered with a smile.

Crack!!

Miranda gasped and arched her back, raising her rear in a distinctly cat-like manner, demanding attention. Her eyes were wide in excitement and she was breathing quickly.

"Ahhhhh!" she sighed and turned around to look over her shoulder giving her best "come hither" look,

"That the best you got?"

Smack!!

Miranda sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and wriggled, just a little. She was getting very moist and they both knew it.

"One more?"

"'One more' what?"

Miranda grinned and wriggled again, "One more, please mistress?" Sam's kink streak extended to some very light BDSM every now and then, though nothing more elaborate than wordplay and the occasional silk scarf and spanking.

Ker-Smack!!

Both hands came down on each of Miranda's cheeks and she yelped and arched up onto the tips of her toes, pressing herself against Sam's hands.

Samantha took that opportunity to reach beneath the other girl, carefully inserted two fingers into her dripping sex and began to curl within her wet tightness.

"Eat me," Miranda pleaded, keeping her back arched, "Please?"

"Who am I to deny my beloved?" Sam replied. She scooched over closer to Miranda and, pushing herself up out of her chair, placed her face between her thighs, and slowly began to lap at her.

"Oh g-o-d-d-d-d-d," Miranda moaned as Samantha licked and sucked at her. From this angle, Sam had the perfect vantage point to assault her clit, which she did with gusto, curling her tongue around it, then flattening it out and lapping at it fiercely.

"I'm coming!" Miranda cried out and Sam removed her fingers from her cleft, replaced it with her mouth, and was rewarded with a torrent of nectar from her lover's body.

Miranda trembled and shook and shivered with delight as Sam held onto her with her strong arms, making sure she didn't fall over.

Finally, completely spent, the pale girl went limp and Sam gently cradled her down to the mattress, stroking her hair back from her face tenderly.

Miranda looked up at her lover with a fatigued joy,

"That was fun," she commented, "What are we going to do next?"

Sam smirked as she readjusted herself back into her chair, "We, my dear, are going to a party tonight."

Miranda frowned, "Tonight? But—" she looked around trying to find a clock.

"You, my frail beauty, have been asleep for almost eleven hours.

Miri's eyes widened, "Oops."

Sam laughed, "It's all right, you gave as good as you got and you gave

good,"

she put a lot of emphasis on that last word, "You were entitled to your beauty coma."

The dark-haired girl sighed and slowly stood up, padding naked over to the bathroom and running the sink.

"I know, I just hate this, whatever the hell it is that's wrong with me," she began brushing her teeth, "I feel like I'm going to wind up sleeping half my life away."

Sam wheeled into the bathroom; she loved watching Miranda brush her teeth; it made some of her favorite parts jiggle in a particularly stimulating way. Miranda looked down at her.

"You're leering."

"Uh-huh," Sam grinned.

"Stop leering."

"You're not the boss of me."

Miranda bent over, took her delicate breasts in each hand, pushed them together and brought them within a millimeter of Sam's face.

Sam then realized two things: one; her throat was very dry as she licked her lips to moisten them and two: other parts of her were getting very wet...

"If you ever want to see these again, behave yourself."

Sam lunged forward, but Miranda was faster; she straightened her back, taking her delicious mounds of skin with her and out of the reach of Sam's hungry mouth.

"Don't you threaten me!" the fair-haired girl admonished.

"Out!"

Grumbling to herself, Sam rotated and wheeled herself over out of the bathroom. If Sam had looked back, she would have seen Miranda grinning impishly as she shook her head affectionately before returning to her teeth.

"Girl's going to be the death of me," she mumbled around her toothbrush before spitting out toothpaste, "So what kind of party is this?"

"What?"

Miranda stuck her head out the door to face Sam, "What kind of party is this?" she said slowly, enunciating every word as if she were addressing an idiot child.

Sam rolled her eyes and turned, heading to a closet.

"It's on campus. No commute, don't worry."

Miranda hated to drive, "Places too much faith in the competence in others," was her reasoning.

"It's not a frat house is it?" Miranda's eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Noooooo, not exactly."

"Sam—"

"It's a birthday party, okay? Big house and lots of guest," Sam began rummaging through her chest of drawers, pulling out dress after dress, each one more slinky and revealing than the last. "Boring, boring, boring, boring," she muttered as she did this.

"So who's on the guest list?" the other girl asked, still pretty apprehensive.

"As far as I know, there isn't one. Just show up and BYOB it."

"So, we don't actually have an invitation nor do we actually have any booze to bring."

"A-ha!" Sam cried out in triumph, removing a pale cream cocktail dress with flowing chiffon. It left the shoulders bare and had a sweetheart neckline to accentuate Sam's impressive cleavage. With a victorious look on her face, she turned to the naked girl.

"We don't need an invitation lover," she stated, jerking her shirt up and off to expose her tanned and perfect breasts, "The girls are going to get us in tonight."

Miranda opened her mouth to scold her when she realized that her mouth was salivating as opposed to speaking. She felt a stirring in her loins and she unconsciously began to slide a hand down her pale stomach. Already her skin was starting to flush crimson with excitement.

Sam never missed a thing, "Is someone thinking of a little pre-celebration celebration? She asked demurely.

"Somebody is," Miranda whispered as her hand began to slither its way through her nest of black curls. She leaned over, attempting to capture one of Sam's nipples in her mouth but the other girl turned away, scooping her breasts away from her hungry mouth.

"Nope, my boobies," she taunted, "None for you," turning away from Miranda.

"Sam...?" The other girl looked positively stricken and Sam couldn't keep it up for long. She laughed turned back to face her.

"Are you going to threaten to take away my favorite Japanese miniatures ever again?

"No."

"Never ever?"

"Never ever."

Sam grinned and allowed her breasts to descend back to where Miranda was waiting.

"Suck my tits- silly, little, lesbian."

Miranda considered correcting her, that the more accurate term would have been "silly little bisexual,' but the instant her lips wrapped around Sam's hard pink nub, all such thoughts fled her mind.

Sam groaned and buried her hands into the other girl's hair, "Yes, that's right sweetie," she cooed.

Miranda brought her hands up to caress the one breast she was suckling at, while the other groped Sam's other breast: pinching and pulling on the nipple, rolling it between her fingertips. Samantha inhaled through her teeth and moaned pulling Miranda's head flush against her breasts as she leaned back in her chair, arching her back, causing sun-kissed breasts to thrust out into Miranda's waiting mouth.

"Miri...." She mewled and took one of Miranda's free hands and put it between her thighs; already slick with her juices. Miranda wasted no time, inserting first one and then another finger into her lover, pumping in and out slowly, curling them to stroke every last tremulous part of her sex.

"Gonna....come," Sam gasped out as she rotated her hips against Miranda's hand and ground her public bone against her fingers, "Fuck me Miri."

Miranda's hand began to move, push harder; sliding her fingers in and out of Sam's body. Sam was wet and warm and she loved it. She took her thumb and rubbed at Sam's clit.

"Cooooommmmmmming!" Sam wailed and began to convulse in her chair, her body shuddering violently as a powerful orgasm ripped its way through her body. Miranda slid her fingers out of her and instead grabbed both of her large breasts and squeezed them, pinching her nipples. Sam continued to whimper and thrash as her orgasm was extended through Miranda's ministrations.

Finally, exhausted, she slumped forward in her chair and into Miranda's waiting arms. Miri gathered up the panting girl and kissed her blonde hair and golden skin as she gently petted the soft skin at the base of her bare back.

"I love you," Sam rasped hoarsely.

"I love you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Samantha held up her hand, slick with perspiration and extended a finger.

"Pinkie swear?"

Miranda laughed and curled her finger around the other girl's.

"Pinky swear," she replied wrapping her hand around Sam's and bringing it close to kiss it. Sam leaned forward with the motion and Miranda wrapped her free arm around her, their joined hands and fingers caught in the middle.

"Okay, good. Just checking."

Miranda agave her a loving look as Sam gently disentangled herself and reached up with free hand to tousle her lover's dark hair.

"Hey," Miranda cried out in mock outrage, "Cut it out."

Samantha smiled sweetly, "You know you love it."

"No, I love

you,

the rest is debatable."

Sam blew a raspberry at her, "Nope, nothing is up for debate, I am the total package," she started to wheel towards the bathroom then turned and leered,

"Wanna help me get those hard to reach places?"

Miranda groaned.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Lock up your sons and hide your daughter, the huntress is on the prowl!" Samantha cried out as she wheeled herself out of the bathroom; freshly scrubbed and in her new dress. It was slit up the side and showed off a good deal of firm, bronzed, thigh, which was the idea. Sam had always been proud of her legs and had made sure they stayed lean, firm, and as sexy (or more so) as the legs of any other smoking hot California blondes.

"Just because these boots ain't for walking anymore doesn't mean they're good for nothing," she was fond of saying.

Miranda was just pulling on her own outfit, a tastefully cut gray garment that was downright puritanical by comparison: a loose-fitting cotton dress that covered her shoulders, possessed no real neckline to speak of, and went down to her knees.

"Zip me," she asked of the other girl. Sam wheeled over to her and got the zipper up as far as she could reach. Miranda turned to face her and finished zipping herself up.

"How do I look?"

"Like you're about to help me open a checking account. Seriously, did that dress come with a free copy of 'The Watchtower'"?

"I hate you and everything you stand for."

"Real sensitive choice of words, numb nuts."

Miranda flushed red at her unintentional gaffe.

Sam laughed, "I'm kidding! Come on, it's fine, you look very...," she desperately for the right word, "...very......." Miranda began to scowl at her, "Dignified! You look very dignified!"

Miranda threw up her hands in exasperation, "Thank you, that's what every girl likes to hear."

"Well, look, it's so....and you're so.....damn it would it kill you to put on some jewelry? Maybe a little makeup? Sam held out a tube of lipstick, "Speak of, do me."

"Didn't I just do you?" Miranda replied with a little smile of her own.

"True, but in this case, clothes will remain on," Sam leaned forward in her chair so Miranda could apply lipstick.

"Always a catch," the dark haired girl replied before gesturing,

"Go like this," Miranda instructed puckering her lips. Sam mimicked the action and Miranda kissed her lightly. She felt Sam shift her weight and she grabbed the other girl's hand as it was on its way to get a hold of her and make the kiss a lot less practical and a lot more intense.

"Bad girl," Miranda said with a smile, "trying to get your lipstick all smudgy."

"Grrr, woof."

Miranda reached over to a vanity and picked up a wide leather belt adorned with turquoise and large silver disks, it had been a gift from Sam when they celebrated their anniversary in Florence. She lashed the belt into place over her waist, bisecting the dress and creating a slightly more stylish cut.

"Eh, it's a start," Sam noted encouragingly.

"Thank you sweetie, your praise has me totally underwhelmed," replied Miranda.

"Enough talk, come beloved woman," she cried out, "Somewhere out there is a bar to be pillaged and a young man and/or woman to be deflowered!"

"Honey, you're not actually a big drinker, you have no interest in men and you're already in a committed, monogamous, relationship with me."

"Details! Forward woman!"

Sam's audacity was equal parts inspiring and wildly amusing. Even if she was being absurd, she never let anything slow her down. Life hadn't been particularly fair to the girl; all that energy should be out leaping and dancing, not confined to a chair. But most days, Sam never let it get her down and tended to adopt bravado that had little truth in reality.

"Yes ma'am," Miranda replied in mock-meekness as she wheeled her little Valkyrie out the door.

It took a while to get to the house where the party was being held; they had to wait for a campus shuttle bus that could accommodate Sam's chair, but eventually one came around and the two girls were on their way.

Sam was well aware of the looks she was getting: half of them seemed to be full of mock pity for her "tragic condition" as one person had described, the others just wanted to fuck her senseless and were wondering what it'd be like with a "special" girl like her.

She couldn't decide which one she hated more, probably the former.

She then felt Miranda's slender hand on her bare shoulder and she placed her own over it as Miranda squeezed.

"They don't matter, baby," she whispered into her lover's ear, "none of them do. You are so beautiful to me."

Sam smiled and blinked back tears that began to creep up in her eyes, "Thanks, Miri." She always could cheer her up.

They stayed like that for the rest of the ride and when Sam got off the bus, she did so with her head held a little higher.

"You said no frats!" Miranda shouted, partly to be heard over the noise and partly because she was pissed.

"I said no frat

houses

; this is a private residence," Sam countered, "Now if it might be owned by a former fraternity alumnus..."

"You suck, Sammy."

"Only if you ask nicely and don't call me 'Sammy'."

The house was not hard to find; a two-story house that kind of looked like the one from 'The Addams Family,' Miranda thought. It stood in sharp contrast to the scene in the front lawn: a lot of people her age, give or take a few years in various stages of intoxication and, in some extreme cases, fornication. Music blasted through all the open doors and windows and the yard was absolutely littered with empty cans of beer and bottles of the hard stuff.

Miranda looked mortified. Samantha looked like a kid come Christmas morning,

"Oh I like this place," she said as she cast a very naughty grin back behind at her lover, "I am going to have fun with a capital 'F'."

"And the 'F' stands for?" Miranda asked. Samantha opened her mouth to answer but Miranda cut her off, "Never mind, don't need to know, shouldn't have asked, let's just get you in there so you can get on with spending the night scaring the normals."

"Oh, don't you think I won't!" Samantha squealed gleefully, "Come on! Before all the good drink is drunk and all the good sex is had!" With that, she wheeled herself ahead of Miranda and made a beeline for the front door.

Miranda bit at her lip; sometimes Sam could get a little crazy at get-togethers like this. It was her way of dealing with being in that chair; sometimes she overcompensated and attempted to be the "wildest girl to ever go wild." It had gotten her in trouble before and it was looking to Miranda like it might do so again.

With a sudden knot in her stomach, Miranda quietly followed Sam into the cacophonous house.

A few hours in and Miranda was thoroughly miserable: the music was wretched and being blasted at a decibel level usually reserved for air raid sirens. It was wildly overcrowded, the poor girl could barely breathe; let alone move about freely. She was constantly being propositioned by a steady stream of guys and girls who wanted to 'sneak upstairs for a little private time' and show off how impressive their respective genitalia were.

But the smell, the unending stink of cheap beer and booze mixed with choking cigarette smoke and what she supposed was stale bong water, was the worst: it stung her eyes and threatened to suffocate her. She felt like Dante wandering about the Inferno.

She noted that Samantha, on the other hand, appeared to be in her natural element.

"Whoooooooooooo!" she heard Sam cry out in a fashion that was widely acknowledged as the mating call of the drunken college girl. Several other, deeper, voices joined in her in chorus.

Sam had been pounding back Jell-O shots as soon as they had gotten across the threshold. Now she'd graduated to shots of Goldschlager, Aftershock, and anything else anyone put in front of her.

The situation was rapidly spinning out of control, Miranda stormed over to where Sam was sitting at the head of a table, a drink in each hand and surrounded by men who were equally loaded and had begun eyeing her up like a tasty morsel ready to be devoured completely.