A Wet Day

Jenny stabs her key into the door lock. A thunderclap rumbles in the distance as rain pours down. The rain strikes the ground so hard it bounces back. Jenny was forced to run through this drenching downpour because some idiot with Ohio license plates left their bright red Buick in her parking spot.

Out-of-breath, angry, and soaking wet, Jenny stands in the doorway to the apartment she shares with her lover, Alex. Squeezing hard on the doorknob, she freezes. Her apartment is filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread.

A blond woman's head pops out from behind the kitchen door.

"Hi, my name's Susan!"

Jenny clings to the front door knob without speaking. She is struck speechless by the unexpected appearance of this stranger.

"You must be Jenny. Alex, told me all about you."

Jenny manages to mutter a reply; "You must be a friend of Alex."

It sounded so dumb. Of course, she was a friend of Alex. How else would she have gotten a key? So Alex has told Susan all about Jenny. That did not sound good because Alex has never told Jenny anything about Susan. Jenny feels betrayed.

Susan flashes Jenny a quick smile.

"You can let go of the doorknob now. I promise not to bite."

Jenny looks at her hand. She is squeezing the doorknob in a hard, white-knuckled grip. Susan's smile makes her feel foolish. Sheepishly, she closes the door.

"You from Ohio by any chance?" asks Jenny, trying hard to appear intelligent.

"That's right," answers Susan brightly, "I must have parked in your spot."

Jenny brushes her dripping hair away from her face and pats it into place behind her ears. She must look like an idiot. Irritated by Susan's smile, Jenny rushes past her blurting out an apology like a battering ram.

"Sorry, got to get this wet stuff off," she mumbles heading straight for the bathroom.

In the safety of the bathroom, Jenny wastes no time. She strips out of her wet clothes and jumps into the shower. The hot spray of the shower melts away her anger. It makes her feel safe and warm.

Damn good looking, Jenny thinks. No doubt about it, Susan-from-Ohio is trouble. Younger too. Alex likes them young. Jenny-Susan, Susan-Jenny? Which one will Alex pick? Jenny knows the answer. Susan.

Jenny wants Alex. She slips a finger between her legs. Touching herself feels good. It makes her forget her problems. Jenny's knees buckle with desire as the hot water sprays her nipples. She feels a wave of pleasure rising inside her. Just a bit more and the wave will submerge her in a foamy torrent of excitement. She waits for the wave to crest. She waits for it to come crashing down. But the wave disappears. Jenny screams. The shower turns ice cold.

"Shit!" she yells, "Fucking bitch!"

From behind the bathroom door, she hears Susan's muted apology.

"Oops! Sorry, I turned on the dishwasher."

Susan turns the dishwasher off, and the shower warms up again, but not Jenny. The moment is lost. Frustrated, she steps out of the shower and dries off.

With one towel wrapped around her head like a turban, and another tucked around her breasts, Jenny pads into the kitchen to confront Susan.

"You're just in time," says Susan removing a freshly baked loaf of bread from the oven.

The smell is delicious. Jenny's stomach grumbles.

"I thought you might be hungry. So I cooked up a dinner of stuffed pork chops, corn, gravy, mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread."

"It smells wonderful," Jenny admits, but inside she is silently cursing. Susan not only has killer looks, she can also cook. Jenny never learned how to cook. The entire kitchen is warm with the scent of home cooked food.

Susan lifts the apron over the top of her perfectly coifed hair revealing an unwrinkled flower print dress.

Little Miss Homemaker thinks Jenny. She looks so cool, Little Miss Homewreaker. She looks fresh and innocent. She did not look like someone who just cooked up a complete homemade meal.

Perfectly composed, Susan pulls out a kitchen chair and motions Jenny to sit down.

"Take a seat. I'll serve you," Susan smiles.

Jenny wants to hate Susan, but her body betrays her. The food is delicious. She finds herself asking for second and third helpings. Jenny can not even remember when she last ate freshly baked bread. It is delicious. Alex had forced Jenny into a low calorie diet so she would loose weight. It has been a long time since Jenny has savored the taste of mashed potatoes covered in gravy and real butter melting into hot oven-baked bread. Jenny is in heaven.

After eating, Susan bounces up, taking the plates to the sink, cleaning up. She fills the sink with hot soapy water and starts washing the dishes by hand.

"Hey!" Jenny shouts, "You can use the dishwasher now. I didn't mean to scream at you like that." Jenny feels guilty. She feels terrible for hating Susan.

"That's OK," answers Susan," I like the feel of washing dishes by hand." She plunges both of her hands into the hot soapy water.

"Are you sure I can't help?" asks Alex.

"There is something."

"What?"

"Brush my hair out of my eyes."

Susan turns her head to one side. Jenny looks.

A single strand of Susan's hair has fallen over her left eye. She is not perfect. Jenny stands behind Susan as she washes the dishes. Carefully, she brushes the offending lock of hair back over Susan's ear.

"That feels good," Susan says.

"What?" asks Jenny provocatively exhaling her hot breath into the back of Susan's neck.

"Don't move," insists Susan.

Jenny has no intention of moving. Susan pushes back against Jenny's body. Jenny responds by grinding her towel wrapped pelvis into Susan's buttocks. Jenny rubs her breasts against Susan's back.

It feels good. It feels right.

Everything happens without hesitation. Susan turns and kisses Jenny lightly on the lips, loosening the towel wrapped around her breasts. Jenny feels Susan's warm soapy hands caressing her. It feels so right. Jenny closes her eyes. She is afraid to look. She is afraid that the magic spell will be broken if she looks into Susan's eyes.

Effortlessly, Susan pushes Jenny onto the kitchen floor. Jenny's body seems to be floating, her legs spread wide and the towel falls open underneath her.

There is a flurry of kisses, wonderful urgent kisses, and suddenly Susan is between her legs, licking, and sucking. Jenny moans. Susan's tongue ignites her passion.

"It feels good. Oh, so good," Jenny moans.

Jenny's body starts to flow. When she gets excited, really sexually excited, she flows. It is more then just moist, Jenny gets soaking wet. It both excites and embarrasses her. And the more she thinks about it, the wetter she gets. Susan has turned Jenny on like a water faucet. She sucks up the fluids making obscene gulping sounds. Like an erupting Volcano, Jenny feels herself over-flowing, helpless against the natural forces of her body. Moisture drips from the lips of her open sex like hot streams of lava. Susan can not keep up. Jenny is pouring out onto the floor. The towel has slipped out from under her bottom. There is nothing to soak up the flood. A slick, wet pool spreads out on the kitchen floor like rain water.

In ecstasy, Jenny shakes her head from side to side, her hands pushing down on Susan's head, urging her to keep licking. Jenny hears the roar of blood rushing in her ears. It is like the rushing sound of the ocean tide being sucked out, to build a wave. In a moment, the wave will peak, the flow will reverse, and she will be swept away.

It is distant.

The sound is so distant, Jenny thinks it is inside her head, a whispered cry from her imagination. But when Susan's tongue freezes; Jenny's sense of reality rises to the surface like air bubbles.

There it is again, a voice from the living room.

"Hi, I'm home. Is anyone here?" shouts Alex, slamming the front door and heading straight to the kitchen.