PART I
Word spread fast that the government had issued a stay-at-home order. We probably should have been paying closer attention to the news. If we had, we would have been more prepared. Lorraine and I had been arguing for a couple of days about whose turn it was to go to the grocery store, but it was now moot. We couldn't leave the apartment and we didn't have much left to eat.
"How long do you think this will last?" Lorraine asked, her gaze directed at the open kitchen cabinets.
"A week or two, tops," I told her, with all the authority of someone who doesn't watch the news.
That first week went by slowly, but without incident. Our need to go grocery shopping was less desperate than it seemed before the lockdown. Those things we deemed "essential"--ingredients for favorite meals, the latest magazines, perishables--made way for cans from the back of the cupboard and books we bought that we always meant to read.
At the start of the second week, looking at the calendar, I asked Lorraine--"You okay on..."
"On what?"
"You know." She did know. This was why we'd had the argument over whose turn it was to go to the grocery store. I knew it was probably my turn, but hated buying tampons. The clerk, male or female, always gave me a knowing nod. They knew what this meant. I lived with my wife or girlfriend and I wasn't getting any at the moment. They were right on the second part--I wasn't--but not on the first. Lorraine and I were merely roommates.
"Oh, no, I'm good," Lorraine informed me. "Thank you for your concern."
"If this goes on for a month or more...?"
"I'm on the pill now. No periods. And I have a ninety-day supply."
"Okay, just checking."
"Thank you, Teddy. My uterus appreciates your concern."
We returned our attention to the television.
"The pill, eh?" I channeled the vibe of the knowing grocery clerk.
"Yes, Teddy. I'm seeing someone. Or at least I was."
I found her confession vastly more interesting than the daytime soap opera we were watching. "Do tell."
Lorraine's cheeks flushed, in sudden contrast with her pale skin.
"There's not much to tell. We just started dating."
"Yet somehow you're already on the pill."
"Well, I didn't say nothing happened." Lorraine's cheeks turned pink again, as if she was thinking about her boyfriend and what they'd already done together. "Just nothing much."
Despite sharing the common space of our apartment for two years, we'd never particularly delved into each other's private lives. This soap opera, though--geez. "Details?"
Lorraine turned and looked at me with her deep brown eyes as if assessing whether or not she wanted to cross this threshold with me. It could turn into a precedent.
"Normally I don't kiss and tell."
"Oh, of course. Special circumstances. I understand. It's a national emergency, after all."
"Right. National emergency. There was some kissing."
"Just kissing?"
Lorraine slapped my playfully on the arm. "No, dummy. Not just kissing. I don't need the pill for kissing."
"Hey, I once had a friend who thought she may have gotten pregnant from dry humping."
"Well, I'm not your dumb friend."
"No, you're not." I don't know what came over me in that moment. Despite sharing the space as long as we had, I had never been physically closer to Lorraine. "You're much prettier," I told her, then winced.
Lorraine shifted her ample hips away from me on the sofa. "Uh, thanks, Teddy."
The awkward tension between us became unbearable, even as we both pretended to be absorbed by the soap opera. I excused myself to my room.
* * *
By the end of the second week, with no announced end to the lock-down, we realized that we needed to ration our remaining food. And pretty severely at that. One night for dinner we split a can of expired French cut green beans. Neither of us had much of the will to do anything anymore. We either laid in bed in our separate rooms or lounged together in front of the television. Lorraine stopped her daily workout regime, and also, I noticed with keen interest, stopped wearing a bra.
"Are we gonna make it, Teddy?"
"I think so. I mean, there must be others in our situation."
"Others?" she slumped over onto my shoulder and tilted her head back, hitting me with those big brown eyes at close range.
"Yeah. People like us."
"It's hard to imagine anyone else."
I tried to pull my head back as far as I could so I didn't feel like I was invading her space. "What about your... dude?"
"I don't know. There's nothing to talk about. I don't think he's my type."
"No? You seemed pretty enamored a couple weeks ago."
"I just wanted sex. I wasn't looking for a husband."
I took a quick glance down at my lap to see how noticeable my tented pants were. "Oh, okay."
"And you, Teddy? When was the last time you got laid?"
"Well, Lorraine. It has been a fair few months."
"Mmm," Lorraine responded, closing her eyes and nuzzling into my neck.
"Uh, tired? Maybe you should turn in."
"No."
I could feel her lips and breath on my neck, giving me goosebumps. I slowly shifted a throw pillow into my lap.
"Teddy?"
"Yeah?"
"Should we?"
I knew what she meant. Or at least certain parts of my anatomy did. My brain tried to find other logical explanations, but none of them fit. I decided to be even more vague with my answer than she was with her question. "Yeah, sure."
"Mmm," she said again into my neck. Then I felt her lips come together on my skin in what was unmistakably a kiss.
I had given my consent verbally, but was also too weak to resist physically. I was surprised she had the energy. But as her kisses moved up to my ear, then across my cheeks to my lips, I could feel her accelerating, feeding off desire. I turned toward Lorraine and put my left hand on her hip, just resting it there at first. I extracted my right hand and draped it over the back of the couch. My sister had suggested to me a similar move when I went to her for advice--the good old yawn and stretch. You fake a yawn, stretching your closer arm above your head, and then let it come to rest--ever so subtly--across her shoulders.
We leaned into each other for support, our kisses growing deeper... lips parted, the tips of our tongues dancing. I feared for a moment that, out of hunger, she may literally try to eat my face, tongue-first, but I knew I wouldn't stop her. I didn't want to. Instead, I devoured her, our needy bodies pushing against each other, back and forth.
Lorraine threw her right knee across my legs and shifted her body into my lap, displacing the throw pillow. She was wearing yoga pants, despite abandoning her exercise regime, and I was wearing a pair of loose sweats. I could feel her warmth like a furnace as she slid back and forth against my member.
I slipped a hand between us to feel her breasts. They were a comfortable C-cup by my estimation and I could feel her nipples straining at her lavender tank top.
"Mfff" she moaned into my mouth, then leaned back, crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her top and whipped it off in a smooth motion. A flash of lavender blocked my vision for a moment, then, as if a set of curtains had parted, I saw a beautiful scene. Her areola were rose gold and the size of dollar coins. For a moment I just stared, my hands extended on either side, afraid to touch. I looked up at Lorraine's brown eyes and I could see them smiling first, then checked her full lips to confirm. As if I needed more encouragement, she then grabbed my head in both hands and buried my face between her breasts.
My hands thawed and grasped at her bare back as I luxuriated in her flesh. The only skin finer than tit flesh is the silkiness of the inner thighs--and I suspected I would get there soon enough. I sucked on each nipple, flipping them like toggle switches, though regardless of direction, my movements only seemed to turn her on.