Noises Through the Wall—Revised Again
July, the first year
9. Lindsay entertains. Kelly hears things she shouldn't, then visits Jeni.
This is an odd story. I felt like I needed to include it chronologically as things developed in this series, but there wasn't any real sex, and this is Literotica, after all. So, I submitted it as a non-erotic story, but then it won the editor's choice designation, and they changed it to the exhibitionists and voyeurs section, but then it got the worst rating from readers of any story I had submitted. Ack!
So, anyway, I added what happened the next day, for those of you who prefer their erotica with more sex. Maybe you'll like it better now. Thanks.
I enjoyed the walk home that night. The day had been warm and sunny without being too hot to enjoy being outside, and by late evening it was still just sweater weather, if that. I had a job as a waitress for the summer, so my days were free to study. Tom was on the river, and he had left me the Jeep to drive while he was away, but I liked walking. I was wearing the short black skirt and white blouse that were my uniform with my sweater slung over my shoulders. My heels were in my backpack, as I had changed to trainers for the walk home.
We, Lindsay and I, thought it would be funny, the first time Tom left on a trip, if Lindsay dropped him off at the warehouse and I picked him up when it was over. We girls wanted to cause talk. I think Tom liked the idea, having the other guides know he had two girlfriends. I don't know if he got teased about it though, or the other guides were envious, or disgusted, or if it screwed up his chances to get laid on the trip. It just wasn't as cute as we thought it would, so after that first time, I made the drive to drop him off and pick him up. I was just back from one of those runs.
I wondered if it was all my fault that those trips hadn't worked out. I
wanted
people to know we were a trio. I was proud of our relationship. Wasn't she? Or was I just arrogant and naïve and stupidly young?
Lindsay seemed to assume that Tom would be with other girls on his trips. Two weeks on the river with a bronzed river guide who played the guitar and sang, and all those topless girls from Boston and New York and Chicago rolling over and spreading their legs.
I was sure that wasn't true. Even if other women did throw themselves at Tom, he would spurn their advances because he was as in love as I was. As we were. I was convinced that the three of us were going to live happily ever after. I was ecstatic. I was in love with two people. I was having the best sex imaginable.
I was also discovering I had an excellent eye for photographing nudes. I took modeling assignments myself, which was sensational for my self-esteem and my pocketbook. I had a new best friend from Slovakia who was insane. The only bad part at all was that Tom was away for two weeks or more at a time during the summer, but Lindsay and I kept each other company. True, she was not one for getting dressed up and going dancing or even to movies often. My insane friend, Yana, loved to do those things, so I would sometimes go out with her without my girlfriend. Lindsay didn't mind that so much, but she didn't like Yana. It wasn't jealousy though, just that they didn't get along. Yana can be hard to take, I know. I loved Lindsay and Tom, and there was no question of my messing around. And I didn't think Tom was messing around either, no matter what Lindsay might say. Those girls from New York and Boston couldn't really run around topless on a commercial river trip, could they?
Our schedules weren't quite a perfect match. Lindsay was coaching at a volleyball camp for high school players. The two-week sessions had begun in mid-June, as the schools let out for the summer, but she had worked a lot to set it up. I worked mostly at night at the restaurant, with occasional modeling assignments from an artist or photographer or art classes at school. It was figure modeling. Lindsay couldn't stay out too late, most nights. Still, for my first summer living with someone—my lover someone—I was loving life and floating.
There was a strange car was pulled into the driveway behind the Jeep. Lindsay's car was at the curb.
I entered through the kitchen, like I always do, moving around into the living room, dropping my backpack off on the way. Lindsay was sitting on the couch with her company.
I knew our visitor with my first look at her. I had heard so much about her and knew so little. I had never seen a picture of her, never heard her described. But I knew. She was Jan.
When Lindsay was a freshman, she and Jan became lovers. Their affair was Lindsay's first real relationship with another woman. There was something painful about it that I had never been able to get Lindsay to talk about, other than to say it ended when Jan graduated. Tom seemed to know more, which made me sad. I should know what he knew, shouldn't I? And now there Jan was in my home. Just visiting? Coincidence? She knew where Lindsay lived. She had driven here. She was in my home. She was in my home because she had been invited into my home.
I was suddenly, horribly, irrationally and oh so justifiably jealous.
"Hi," I said as I joined them, sliding into the chair opposite of where they sat together on the couch. "We weren't busy, so they let me off early." They might have been holding hands when I came in. I didn't see them holding hands, they just might have been.
Lindsay made the introductions. Old lover checked out new lover. New lover checked out the old one. Oh, joy! Happy happy happy. Jan was big. I couldn't tell how tall she was, but I thought she must be at least my 5'9". But that is not what I mean by big. She wasn't fat. I wish she were. Heavy, certainly, but not fat. More... like a fucking troll. No, no. That is not kind or even called for. She had a mullet. She had high thick shoulders and almost no neck. She looked like she could pick me up and break me in two if she had even the least inclination.
I was still new at dealing with the whole liking girls thing, but none of the girls I was attracted to looked like Jan. Was I horrid? I don't often wear lipstick myself, but wasn't I more like a lipstick lesbian? Are there lipstick bisexuals, or is that just redundant? I tried to tell myself I found Jan unattractive because she had broken Lindsay's heart. I couldn't see that as remotely true even trying to convince myself. Nope. She was just flat out unattractive to me.
Jealousy.
Lindsay asked a question. Maybe it was a confession. "I thought you were going out with that Polish girl after work."
I felt the dig. "Yana is Slovak. And she's studying. Test tomorrow." Unlike either Lindsay or me, Yana was taking summer classes. Her student Visa didn't allow her to work. (Which was why being paid cash for modeling was how we met.)
"Jan is going to be helping out with the camp now that her school is out," Lindsay was saying, changing the subject too quickly.
That explained a lot. Like why she had mentioned it right away, first thing, as soon as she had found out, like weeks ago?
"Oh," I heard myself cooing in a way too sweet voice, "that must be great fun for you." I sounded like an idiot.
Jan nodded her big old head. "I have been coaching high school for two years now. This is a great chance to expand my skills and work with a lot of talented girls."
I nodded and agreed it that it must indeed, like I had the slightest idea that I knew such a thing. I have never been an athlete. I never even dated an athlete before Lindsay. Not even a boy athlete.
I guess everyone has heard the stereotype that all girl jocks are gay. It isn't true, of course. Just some of them. Maybe a lot of them. At least half of Lindsay's volleyball team. And of course Lindsay was. Did the girls in camp know some of their coaches were lesbian? Were some of the girls themselves? They must be.
I remember a few girls I went to high school with talking about finding out their middle school coach was lesbian when I was visiting my mother last summer. They acted like they had been violated somehow, because the woman had been in the lockers with them when they were changing. I didn't quite understand it. This had happened even before I accepted that I would love making love to another woman the way that I do. I wonder if there is any relation. I just thought their attitudes were provincial.
We sat there, my lover, her former lover, and I, in ever so polite conversation for what seemed like forever. I wondered when Jan would go home. I tried yawning a few times, to see if she would take the hint.
Hey, jealousy.
Instead, Lindsay said, "Kel, I told Jan she could spend the night here. She can't move into her apartment until the weekend."
I tried not to show how this news startled me. We have two bedrooms. One was "our" bedroom; the other was there for those times when one of us, any of the three, felt the need for space. We thought it was quite sophisticated to arrange it that way. I was going to use it as a studio, as it had great light.
"I hope you'll be comfortable. Shall I make up the bed for you, Jan?"
Lindsay shook her head. "We're just going to stay up and talk awhile."
I nodded. Apparently I was being sent to my room. Except it was our room, and she wasn't coming.
Slowly, reluctantly, I got up and went off to bed. Alone.
I undressed and got into bed. I tried reading. For awhile, I could hear laughter now and then, but it was clear they were trying to be quiet. I must have drifted off, because I woke with my book on my chest. I didn't hear them talking. Silently, I crept from our bed and into the living room. The lights were off, and Jan and Lindsay were not there.
I swear, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. I wasn't. But I heard them.
They were speaking very softly. I moved closer and pressed my ear to the wall. It was a horrible thing to do, but I did it. I had trouble making them out and grew very still. They were in the middle of a conversation.
"Does she ever wear one for you?
"No." Lindsay's voice was soft, noncommittal.
I strained for sounds and noises through the wall.
"Why not?"
"Well, Tom is around most of the time." I wondered what I wouldn't wear and what Tom had to do with it. I would do almost anything she asked. She knew that, didn't she?
"I can't believe you don't. You used to love it so. And do you actually like that? Doing it with a man?"
"Sometimes." Lindsay's voice seemed ashamed. "I do her, mostly." I thought about that. It was true. At first, she and Tom had fucked passionately, but for the last couple of months, it had been less frequent. I hadn't been consciously aware until just then because he and I seemed to do it so much, as Lindsay and I kissed and licked. All through April and then May, it had been that way.
"Sometimes?" Jan's voice was superior and haughty. It was like she did not approve of Lindsay having sex with a man. What right did she have to approve of anything? She had dumped Lindsay. She had broken her heart. "Sometimes Lindsay likes dick," Jan hissed like an indictment. It sounded so chilling. There was a pause. I knew they were kissing. "I'd wear it if I were you; do that skinny ass of hers."
"Can we not talk about her?" Again, Lindsay's rocky voice was soft.
"Why not?"
Well, how about the fact that they were in my own home, in the bed
I
should be sharing with Lindsay, and they were talking loudly enough for me to hear?
"The guy is away most of the summer. You have her to yourself. Hell, she looks like she has the will of a noodle. You could do anything with her."
I wasn't even bothering to stop my crying by then. I am a crying person. That was who I was in that moment.
