Impact 12 Of Turbulence And Death

For those who pay attention to such things: When Sarah is alone the story is in the past tense. When Claire and Sarah are together the story is in present tense.

Thanks to HaltWhoGoesThere for copy editing - repeatedly.

Impact of Turbulence and Death

The flight had started out unremarkable. I had the window seat. There was a middle aged man on the aisle, who had asked a few questions about where I was going and snuck glances at my breasts.

I had given him terse answers, pointedly looking out the window into the overcast darkness until he left me be. I distracted myself from him and the storm by thinking about Ali and Rebekah.

They had slept late, finally texting me that they still wanted to meet for brunch and to pick them up at the hotel. I had walked over, it was warm, Times Square was crowded with sweating tourists. I moved slowly, kept to the shade as much as I could, but still, found the whoosh of cool air in the hotel lobby a relief.

I found them both in Rebekah's suite, just out of the shower. They had ordered room service and were in good spirits, offering me champagne. I poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot and made myself comfortable in the big chair as the two bounced around happily naked.

"I've always thought you had such lovely figures," I told them as they got dressed, "but now... Jesus, you both look amazing."

"I've gotten really into yoga," Rebekah told us with a smile, striking a pose. She looked proud of herself as she reached back to clasp her bra.

"I should try that," Ali had said, looking at Rebekah and grabbing at the flesh of her ass.

"Stop," Rebekah protested, but not to the grabbing of her ass, which she clearly enjoyed and encouraged by backing towards Ali. "You are

so

fit!"

"But I'm not doing

anything

now," Ali whined, pulling free of Rebekah, but showing herself off to the other woman as she did, stretching to show muscles and ribs." At school I was on the rowing team and Disco Inferno..."

"Of course you played Ultimate," Rebekah laughed, grabbing at Ali's sporty little body. Neither woman was particularly large. I had remembered Rebekah as taller than me. Maybe I'd grown? I had an inch or two on her now. Both of them could be described as petite, with slim tight figures and narrow waists, but Ali was shorter - and definitely had the bigger ass and thicker thighs.

"Have you ever done yoga?" Rebekah asked Ali, putting her hands on Ali's waist, gripping her. "I started as a way to deal with stress at work - and it was super helpful - but then I started getting

really

good."

The conversation quickly devolved into the two of them doing yoga poses in their underpants. Rebekah indeed looked like an instructor as she paused to guide Ali, making small adjustments to the way she held her limbs and her posture. The two began to giggle when Ali stretched her neck to kiss the front of Rebekah's panties, but the mood shifted as Rebekah went still, holding herself there until Ali rolled onto her hip and stretched her back straight, so her mouth could embrace Rebekah's fabric covered lips.

I should have felt like a third wheel, but I didn't. Instead I felt integral to what was happening, just as I had the night before. They wanted me to see this, just as Rebekah and I had wanted Ali to know our story.

"Yesss," Rebekah gasped as Ali reached up to pull off her panties. She let Ali pull them down and off, then spread her stance, as Ali took her place between her legs, tipping her head back to kiss Rebekah's lips.

The night before Ali had made Rebekah wait. She had made Rebekah eat her pussy again and again before she finally reciprocated. I had felt a charge building each time Ali had pushed Rebekah down, each time she had ignored Rebekah's obvious desire to cum. Rebekah had looked to me at one point, appealing, but Ali had made her keep going, cuming four times before she had finally gone down on Rebekah - which was how many times Rebekah told us I'd made her cum.

But now Ali looked up, eyes burning with undisguised desire as she pushed her tongue out and began to lick Rebekah's bald pussy.

"MmnN..." Rebekah purred, then, putting her fingers in Ali's hair, and gripping her short locks, pulled her in. She looked over to me, her eyes liquid, her focus a bit distant.

"This," she told me, taking a deep breath, "is how I fantasized about you, standing over you like this."

"Did we ever... I mean, did I?"

"No, not like this - oh ssshit Ali..." she swore, looking down with appreciation at something Ali was doing with her mouth, but then after gathering herself she returned her attention to me. "I think it's because I would watch you and masturbate standing up?"

Instead of getting jealous or angry, having Rebekah talk about me this way, talk

to

me this way, it seemed to turn Ali on. She was licking and sucking louder. Her lips were making soft blubbery wet sounds. Her hands clutching and squeezing at Rebekah's ass and thighs and flanks.

Finally, Rebekah seemed too overcome to continue talking, she held Ali's hair in both fists now, head down so her hair hid her face, she began to roll and pump her hips. She bent her knees and brought herself up on the balls of her feet.

The pose looked like somewhere between yoga and the Kama sutra.

Ali's eyes were open, looking up, watching Rebekah. Were they looking into each other's eyes?

"You're so beautiful..." I told them. I was sitting in the big chair again, one leg slung over the arm. I had masturbated that morning in bed, watching Claire's video, but now, watching Ali and Rebekah, I was fingering the gusset of my panties, enjoying the smooth feeling as I worked the silk into my wet crease.

"I remember when you showed up on campus," Rebekah said, her face still hidden and her voice sounding hollow and strained. Her abdomen was clenching. She flipped her hair back and looked at me again, her expression open, her focus clear. "There was so much buzz about you."

"Me? Why?"

"Oh my God, are you kidding? Those great big eyes. Strawberry blonde, so pale, but always flush. ALL tits and ass... you always seemed to be falling out of your clothes that first semester, a walking wet dream..."

This would have made me blush if I weren't already blushing. I had been so conflicted, all the attention from boys, being pursued by upperclassmen... it had all been so exciting. I had come very close to breaking up with Danny those first few weeks. My mother had known, must have known. She had sent me a care package, including a pack of pictures I'd left behind. Her note had said he had been by everyday, helping out with the house, visiting with Dad, how good his parents were to us. My family's situation had been particularly precarious at that time. I knew my mom was struggling; needed any and all the help she could get. I understood the message I was being sent. I had hid myself in oversized hoodies and got to work.

Rebekah was staring at me, her eyes wet, almost as if she might cry.

"Dumb as a stump," I quipped.

"Ughhh, I'm sorry I told you that."

"Don't be."

I didn't say any more because Rebekah had bared her teeth, her jaw hinging open and head tipping back, a single stretched out "Ahhhhhhhhhh...." boiling out of her. She was cumming, and Ali was frantic, holding her up and sucking loudly at her sex.

I came watching Ali lick and suck Rebekah clean, while Rebekah jerked and shivered.

The captain's warning to buckle seat belts came after what felt like a fall, as if the whole plane hit a pocket of vacuum and had dropped a few feet straight down and bounced off something hard. Passengers cried out and then there was some nervous laughter, bordering on the hysterical. I've never been afraid to fly, but as the whole cabin began to shake and shudder loudly, I tightened my seat belt and clutched at the arm rests. My knuckles were white. Looking at them, I tried to force my mind back again to that magical Sunday morning.

I had taken Ali and Rebekah to Rosemary's in the West Village. The three of us had laughed and gossiped and caught up. Rebekah, who had shared little more than generalities with the group at dinner the night before, was more open once it was just the three of us - and maybe she was trying to impress Ali.

Ali, meanwhile, who had been sitting at the far end of the table had missed most of what Rebekah and I had discussed, and vice versa. It was a fast and funny, and unguarded discussion - Claire would have loved it.

Ali had grabbed a Sunday paper from the hotel lobby, and so I showed them the Style section, which had come out much better than I'd even dared to hope.

"Oh my god, did you design that?!" a girl from the next table asked, surprising me.

"Some of it?" I told her doubtfully, a little taken aback by the intrusion - but she looked so genuinely excited. "They based the spread on the interactive stuff online. That was my layout..."

"That's the best part!" she said, then turning to Rebekah and Ali, she continued, "Seriously! Everyone at work was looking at this on Friday, it's so fucking cool!"

"I want you to follow me around for the rest of the week saying that!" I told her. "Can you come to work with me tomorrow?!"

"I totally will! I love Zaha! But the 'histogram' thingy was awesome! I had no idea about her early work with Koolhaas! You are really amazing-"

"Oh my gosh, remind me how much I owe you again?" I joked, pretending to reach for my purse, which made everyone at both tables laugh. "My friends are going to think I'm a rockstar now," I told her. "And it's all your fault!"

"You are," she insisted. "They totally should!"

And they did. Rebekah and Ali were both clearly wowed.

"You should have been at this conference this week," Ali told me.

"You should have presented at this conference," Rebekah said, making me huff.

"Don't scoff Sarah," she said seriously. "Have you done any talks about what you do, about InfoPorn?"

"No!" I said horrified, picturing it. That was Keith's thing. I hated the idea of public speaking.

"We need to change that," Rebekah said seriously. "You need to put together a deck of images and... you should come to SF... I'm going to talk to Zach about it."

I won't lie, this was all fun and a wonderful ego boost. But I had mostly shown Ali and Rebekah the spread so I could dish on Kathy and Jen. The girl had interrupted before I had a chance, thank goodness, being overheard had shocked me. Those women could have easily been friends of Jen or Kathy. New York is the biggest small town, I'd reminded myself.

As it was, Ali, perhaps sensing my discomfort and mistaking it for humility, had changed the subject by asking me questions about Claire.

I found a selfie I'd taken of us laying on the grass along the Hudson - our first "date". She wasn't in makeup. She looked fresh and happy. I showed the phone to Ali, who handed it to Rebekah.

"Oh she's lovely!" Rebekah gushed. "Not at all like I expected."

"What did you expect?" I asked, thinking of the butch girls I'd seen the day before.

"I don't know... dark hair, dark eyes? I thought maybe you had a type."

I felt myself color. She was talking about herself, but also Darci.

"But Suzy was fair wasn't she?"

I looked up in surprise.

"How do you know about Suzy?" I asked, boggling.

"Who's Suzy?" Ali wanted to know, clearly lost.

"My childhood babysitter," I told her. But then, as soon as I did, I remembered, I'd written a story about Suzy for Rebekah. "The story..." I say, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

"Yeah..." Rebecca says, seeing my discomfort.

"I'd forgotten all about those stories..." I said, shamed by the memory of them. "Nothing ever happened with Suzy," I said in a quieter voice, still very aware of the girls at the next table.

"Oh, of course, you were very young! But it seemed like you liked her?"

"Childhood crush... but yeah, I guess?" I admitted.

That's when Ali had surprised me, by turning her questions on Rebekah.

"So does Chris have any idea about... you?" Ali asked.

Rebekah's cheeks colored at the question.

"No, he knows a lot, that I'm sometimes attracted to women, that there are certain things I like... to fantasize about. But not about... what I showed you... the things I do."

"But you're not gay?"

"Bi certainly? I don't know. The truth is I've been asking myself that a lot the past few hours?"

"Does he know about Sarah?"

"Some of it..."

"Will you tell him about me?" Ali asked.

"I think so, yeah?"

'Girls don't count,' I thought, picturing Darci, her face close to mine, thick lashes and her dark eyes. But looking at Rebekah I wasn't so sure. I got the sense that she was lying; that she had no intention of telling Chris about Ali. That if she did, it would be because Ali counted.

"What about you?" Rebekah asked Ali.

"Will I tell Chris?" she shot back, making us all laugh.

"Do you think you're bi, or maybe..." Rebekah prompted.

"No idea," Ali said, pulling her face back and focusing on nothing. "Last night blew my mind. I guess I have a lot to think about too."

"CHRIST!" my seatmate gasped as the plane crashed through another patch of storm. It felt as if the fuselage was being dragged over huge rocks. I closed my eyes and willed myself to be calm, to focus on anything besides the crashing storm.

I thought of walking through the West Village after I'd said my goodbyes to Ali and Rebekah. I'd been struck by the numbers of young women out in groups. Tables full of pretty girls eating brunch together on the sidewalks. Pairs enjoying a chat over coffee. Singletons walking to workouts.

My brunch with Ali and Rebekah had been fun. They liked Rosemary's high ceilings and airy bright atmosphere. It had struck me that almost all of the men there were older - part of groups of married couples in their forties and fifties - that almost all the young people were women. I only saw one or two men that weren't servers who were our age.

I thought of our dinner the night before, of all the smiling faces, all the varieties of beauty. Was New York always like this or was I seeing it like this because of Claire? I think of her great beauty, her stillness and elegance, the enormous power it has over me.

BOOM! BOOM!!

From my seat near the back of the plane it seemed as if the cabin had actually flexed. Overhead bins opened and their contents spilled out. The other passengers were mostly quiet, but there were calls of alarm, as spilling luggage and suit jackets rained down on peoples heads.

I struggled not to cry, not to call out. I thought about work, how happy Keith and Ben had been with me Monday morning.

Everyone was pleased with the Style piece. I was clearly out of the dog house with Keith. Ben had congratulated me on the coding, even though I pointed out that a good portion of the trickiest code was lifted from older projects he had built.

"That just makes you smart and adroit," he told me. "I might not have thought of that."

And evidently the online numbers were better than anything the Style section had done all year. Jen had sent a group email to her superiors and CCed Keith. He said she was "effusive", thanking us for pulling their fat from the fire and evidently giving me all the credit for the piece's success.

"She went into great detail about your contributions," Keith told me. "Listing them and explaining how they strengthened what everyone had felt was a flawed and overly complicated piece."

"I just cleaned it up," I told him, trying to deflect the praise.

"This is important Sarah, and you should be proud of yourself. You went above and beyond and made an ally, not just for you, but for us, our department. I appreciate that."

I could hear retching somewhere ahead of me and the cabin had begun to smell like vomit. But there was an unnatural quiet. Everyone was silent. I felt cold. The crashing and dropping had stopped, but lightning flashed in the windows. In the terrible calm I tried to think of Rebekah and Ali again, but instead my mind went to Jen.

"Hold it!

I had hesitated, but then my manners got the better of me and I hit the door open button.

Jen stepped in smiling nervously as the doors closed. I muttered a greeting and studied my shoes, hoping to silence any conversation. But Jen had other ideas.

"I'm not sure what you make of Kathy and me after the other night, Sarah, but I hope you understand how bad it would be for me if word got out."

"I'm not going to tell anyone," I assured her without looking up. I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. "You don't have to worry, really..."

"It was careless and stupid, and I'm very sorry I put you in that position. I have a family, Sarah, two baby girls..."

Jesus, she was begging. I wondered if It would put her at ease if I told her about Claire and I, but realized, I don't know Jen. The most important fact I know about her is she gets off on licking Kathy's kootch in the office - and that's a red fucking flag if there ever was one. I have zero reason to trust her. And besides, my love life is no one's business but my own. But Jen had nearly caught me masterbating on the phone in a bathroom stall. Who was I to cast stones?

"I didn't see anything," I said, finally looking into her eyes. She looked so scared, but I held her gaze. I wanted her to see that she could believe me, that I meant her no harm. "Nothing happened. I know nothing."

I could see my words' effects on Jen, watched her unwind a bit - not entirely relax, but soften.

"Thank you Sarah, I appreciate that."

"Don't mention it - seriously, ever again, and neither will I - there is nothing to thank me for, nothing more that needs to be said." I said it with a smile, and tried to keep my voice warm, to show I meant it kindly, but I also hoped it was clear that I was drawing a line in the sand.

WHOOMP! WHOOMP!

Again the plane seemed to drop and passengers were crying out and swearing. My eyes felt like they were as wide as saucers as I stared ahead, convinced I was going to see the plane tear itself apart.

'It's not fair,' I thought. Thinking of the way I had seemed to be sailing through the week.

We had gotten assigned a story on flooding trends due to climate change, and switched gears from evergreen prep to pushing for the new deadline. Keith wanted to do a bunch of 3D animations and Ben and I jumped on it. I forgot about Kathy and Jen and Rebekah and Ali, and didn't even have a chance to fret about Claire, who would text in bursts, and then disappear, buried in the twin logistical nightmare of her fair and staying with her mother.

It was late Thursday when I got Wes' call. Keith and Ben and I were working late, trying to get the flood maps to bed. I'd been ignoring my mom's calls. She knows I can't pick up when I'm at work, I've told her a million times. She hadn't left any messages, and the truth was I was happy to avoid her, had been all week.

KRACK! BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!

My heart was hammering in my chest. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes, letting my mind do as it pleases casting my thoughts back, back before Wes' call, before everything had gone so terribly wrong... but I couldn't. All I can think about is his call.

I had stepped out of the office to stretch my legs when my phone started buzzing. I looked at it out of habit, expecting to see my mother's number and I saw that it was my brother Wes who was calling. Something about that rang alarm bells, he literally

never

calls.

I ducked in an empty conference room and shut the door before picking up.

"Hey."

"Sarah, Mom's been trying to reach you."

"I know, things have been hectic, but I was going to call. Is everything ok?"