Coda

Mentor

Chapter 17 - Coda

Heads turned and eyebrows raised at Gabby's when news of our couplehood became public. Emma seemed unsurprised, but she'd known Anita the longest, and, perhaps more than anyone, understood that one day she'd be ready to date. She may have even expected me to be the lucky girl, given how thrilled Tiff was.

Margot

was

surprised, and Heather finally seemed completely comfortable talking with both of us. Maybe she was less nervous with Anita no longer being at liberty.

Fi, as I'd feared, was upset. Once she'd figured out what was going on, she left the club early. That was a shame. She deserved better. I didn't appreciate how she'd manipulated me, but she hadn't gotten close to many girls, and she'd seen me as someone with whom she could have had more.

Anita and I danced, and not even exclusively with each other. I'd always felt a thrill when I knew my dance partner would be spending the night with me, but when we were together, the excitement I felt in Anita's arms was so much more.

"You realize," I said, so that only she could hear, "we never actually hooked up here? I've never taken you home with me."

"Think we should fix that?" Anita asked. "'Cause I do."

So we did.

~~~~~

Anita's schedule had always accommodated Monday nights at Gabby's, so spending each Monday at the club and then at my place wouldn't affect her schoolwork. But we tried to leave other weekday evenings for her studies and projects, and she continued her cooking and cleaning rotation at her apartment. Sometimes I'd go there on a weeknight for dinner, but mostly we were together on Mondays and weekends.

Occasionally Anita would bring a problem over for me to work through with her. Not that she was falling behind, or needed help, but it was something we could share, and she appreciated the way I could simplify her code. If the visits usually ended with us waking each other at six a.m. for morning sex, or shower sex, or both, neither of us was complaining.

More often, weekday evenings would end with a text conversation that became too flirty, leading to text, voice or video chat with vibrator or finger involvement. Even remotely, Anita had a way of turning me on that I was sure no one else could ever have achieved.

Thanksgiving approached. I thought my parents would expect me, but they were travelling. I'd visited the previous year, not long after breaking up with Jason, and had endured my mother's well-meaning interrogation. I understood that she wanted the best for me, but I didn't enjoy the experience, particularly since I couldn't give her a good reason for not staying with the

"perfectly nice boy"

I'd been with for years.

So I was thankful that I'd be spared from talking to my parents about Anita. They weren't bigoted or racist, but it would be a huge shock for them, and I wanted to wait until we'd been together longer, when my mother would be less likely to assume our relationship was a temporary phenomenon.

For her part, Anita avoided her mother, and while she felt obliged to travel home at Christmas, she wouldn't give her mom an additional holiday to abuse her.

So we made our own Thanksgiving plans. None of Emma, Tiff, Margot and Heather was traveling for the holiday, and of the four, only Margot did much cooking, though the others were working on their kitchen skills. Their three-bedroom house had a good-sized kitchen and a table for six, so Anita and I offered to cook for the group. Margot baked a pumpkin pie and cookies, and I roasted the turkey, googled recipes, and directed everyone else's culinary efforts.

Dinner was a success, and when everything was cleaned up, Anita and I gathered up the dishes I'd provided and part of the leftovers and headed back to my apartment to spend the rest of the weekend - or as much of it as our stamina would permit - in bed.

~~~~~

As Christmas approached, Anita became withdrawn. I understood why. She didn't want to see her mother. I think if I'd been in her position I'd have cut her out of my life. But Anita's cultural background didn't allow her to think like that. And there wasn't much I could do for her. Except...

"Hey, love?"

"What is it, Kay?"

"I know that you don't want me to come to your mom's because you don't want me to have to deal with her in close quarters," I said. "But what if I get us a hotel room before she tries to make me sleep on the couch? Then I can turn down the invitation, and you can come with me - or stay with your mother, if you have to, but you'll know you have somewhere to retreat to." I could see her frowning, about to decline. "I want to

be there

for you, love. I don't want to intrude, but I can't support you as well at the other end of a phone. If she even lets you call."

"But the cost..." Anita objected.

"I'm not a student, Anita," I said. "I don't want to waste money, but this isn't wasted, if it gives us a place to be together. I can afford it." If we were arguing cost instead of possibility, I knew I'd made my case. "We'll check in to the hotel, then go see your mom together."

She nodded reluctantly, and I started booking our trip. My mother was disappointed when I told her I was planning to stay with a friend for Christmas. I let her draw her own conclusions about who or what my "friend" might be, and she didn't pry.

~~~~~

Our bags were in the hotel room, and we'd driven the small Toyota I'd rented to Anita's mother's street. The houses were small, and quite old, but very well kept. My girlfriend led me to a door, and rang the bell.

Her mother was a little shorter than her, and a few pounds heavier, with similar features, though her hair was curled, medium length and dark gold. She wore heavy tortoiseshell glasses. She scowled at Anita for a moment before breaking into a genuine-seeming smile.

"Hi Mom," Anita said. She brushed her fine hair back over her ear, as I'd seen maybe hundreds of times before, but now the gesture seemed anxious. Anita motioned me forward. "Mom, this is my girlfriend, Kayla."

The shorter woman turned a hard stare on me. I hadn't heard her speak yet. "Uh, hello, Ms. Cho," I said. "I'm happy to meet you. This looks like a lovely house."

I held out my hand, but Anita's mother just stared at it for a moment, then turned to say something harsh and incomprehensible to Anita.

"Mom, please, in English. She doesn't speak Chinese."

Her mother looked at me again, then said, "Hello," before turning back to Anita and adding something else I didn't understand. I withdrew my proffered hand, uncomfortable.

"Are you going to invite us in?" Anita asked.

Her mother frowned at both of us, then stepped aside. I followed my clearly nervous girlfriend into the house.

In the front room, Anita motioned to a couch. I sat, and she took her place beside me. It seemed to me that she pressed closer than she needed for reassurance.

There was another string of Mandarin.

"Mom, please speak English! And I'm not! I'm one-oh-eight! That's good! It's way below average."

"Average is fat," said Mrs. Cho. They were the first English words I'd heard after her one-word greeting. She repeated them, this time pointing straight at me. "Average is fat, like her."

I was startled into a laugh, that I tried to turn into a cough to mask my rudeness. Okay, I'd been thinner in college on a ramen diet, but even before I joined the gym and lost ten pounds I'd still been in the healthy weight range.

"Mom!" Anita had raised her voice. "That isn't remotely true! And it's rude!"

Mrs. Cho launched into another tirade. This time Anita didn't try to argue in English. When they both took a breath, she turned to me. "My mother doesn't have the best relationship with medical advice, as you see. When I started as a freshman, I was five one and barely over eighty pounds. That's seriously underweight."

"You were thin," said Mrs. Cho. "You and Zhang would make lovely babies.

"Mom, I'm not going to be making babies with Zhang or any other boy," Anita said. "You really need to understand that."

Mrs. Cho glared at me again. Whatever she said had Anita up from the couch, standing to face her.

"Mom, that's not how it works! Do you hear yourself?"

After the next barrage of Mandarin, Anita responded in kind. Their voices kept growing in volume. I began to realize that this wasn't the tenor of their usual arguments. I had never seen Anita angry, but she was becoming livid.

Finally, she yelled, "Enough! Mom, enough! I know you think you have a right to be rude to me. You do it every time, and I let you because I know tradition is important, but you will not be rude to the woman I love. She's everything that matters to me, and until you can accept that, I'm getting out of here and won't be back."

Then she turned to me, held out her hand and said something that sounded imperious in Mandarin. I looked at her in confusion, but gave her my hand, and allowed her to lead me out of the house and to the car.

"What did you say to me?" I asked, still puzzled, as I opened the door for her. "The last part, where you took my hand?"

Anita frowned, not understanding the question. "I said we're going," she said, as I settled into the driver's seat. Wasn't I clear?"

"If I spoke Chinese, maybe?" I said.

"I didn't say it in English?" Anita asked. Then her face turned pale. "What about what I said to Mom?"

"That I'm the woman you love, and that I'm everything you wanted?" I asked. "No, wait, that I'm everything that matters to you? I understood that."

"Oh, Christ," Anita said, leaning back in the car seat. "I was distracted. I got switched around."

"So I'm not everything that matters to you?" I asked, smirking at her.

"Damn right you are," Anita said, with a sigh. "And yes, I love you. But I didn't mean to tell you by screaming it at my mother."

I shook my head, smiling, and started the car. Then I took Anita's hand in mine. "If it helps, honey, I'm in love with you, too. Completely, hopelessly, madly and passionately in love. You're my life. You're who I need, and who I need to be with, and I don't care how you choose to tell me you love me, because I was hoping to say the words to you as soon as we weren't stressed out with mother issues. But now that you've said what you said, you need to know, right now, that I'm yours, all the way to my tippy toes, all the way in to my soul, you gorgeous reaper girl."

Anita's face had gone from colorless to crimson, which is something else I'd never seen. A "You've been giving this some thought, have you?" she asked, softly.

"Maybe?" I answered. "What's more, I've been planning to show you."

My girlfriend's blush deepened yet further. "I see."

Releasing her hand, I checked the road and pulled out. "Maybe you should tell me what you were fighting about," I said. "Let's at least get that behind us."

"She says we're both too fat for babies," Anita said. "I think you picked up on that. And I think you know how ridiculous it is."

"If I

were

overweight, I might be hurt," I said, "but I'm not. Jesus. Look at me. Look at

you

! How could anyone say

you're

too heavy?"

"I prefer looking at you, thanks," Anita said. "But the

most

ridiculous part is that since you're" - she made air quotes - "

too big

and too white, my babies will be too big and too white."

"That's when you said 'That's not how it works'?'

"She didn't listen," Anita said. "Which is my mother in a nutshell."

"You said she's a narcissist," I said. "I think that's narcissism in a nutshell."

Anita reached over to squeeze my arm. "I'm glad you're here, love. Without you, I wouldn't have had a reason to walk away, and I really feel like I needed to do that. I've needed to do it for years. I'm going to have to seriously consider whether to let her back into my life, and on what terms."

"I'm glad I'm here for you, Anita," I said. "I'm glad you let me come."

"I don't think you were going to let me say no, were you?" Anita said.

I smiled.

~~~~~

We hadn't unpacked since traveling, so we did that, then took showers. Separately, I insisted, to my girlfriend's confusion. She showered first, dressing afterward in her long sleepshirt. She'd traded her contacts for her glasses, and was sitting on the bed, watching curiously, as I took my small suitcase into the bathroom.

What I had brought had packed small enough to leave me a couple of changes of clothes and necessities for the trip.

I showered, wrapping my hair to avoid getting it wet. Then I dried myself before opening the package I'd brought.

~~~~~

The short robe I wore when I emerged from the bathroom wasn't new, though I didn't think Anita would have seen it. It was comfortable rather than sexy, and I'd knotted it closed. I couldn't hide my pink legs, but it was the best I could do.

I beckoned Anita to stand, then I moved up to her, brushing my lips against hers, but not letting her develop the kiss. "I love you, Anita," I whispered.

She smiled and said, "I love you too."

Then I stepped back, holding out the ends of the cord holding the knot. It was loosely tied, and would fall open at a single pull. "Everything within this robe is yours," I told her.

She took the cord, her eyes on mine. I felt strangely nervous, my hands at my side. She tugged the knot free. Comprehending the way I was presenting myself, she pushed the robe back over my shoulders before looking at what it contained. It slithered to the floor, and Anita stepped back, her eyes wide.

"All for me?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion as her eyes traveled over the pastel pink five-piece outfit I was wearing. Made entirely of lace and sheer, no section was opaque, even over the breasts and crotch.

The top and bottom formed a sheer bra and panty set with lace trim. The top was high-necked and the panties high-waisted, both allowing the sheer fabric over my breasts and sex not to be obscured by the lace borders. The bottom lacework below my breasts and around my upper thighs similarly supported the sheer without in any way impeding Anita's view of what was within.

The lacework itself was wide and intricate, and that together with the high top and low bottom boundaries gave both garments an oddly modest form, while the areas they showcased might as well be completely nude, but for the pink tint the sheer gave to my skin. And despite being entirely see-through, the fabric of the top supported my breasts, lifting and shaping them to be high and full.

The only decorations to the entire set that weren't lace or sheer were a number of dark pink roses, which I saw - I hadn't noticed this before - almost exactly matched the color of my nipples. That was a happy coincidence.

High on my waist was a garter belt in pastel pink lace. It hugged me like a belly chain, just above my navel, leaving my belly button clear, accented by the lower lace on either side that formed the support.

Pink sheer stockings ended in lace bands a few inches below the lower trim of the bikini bottoms, with lace supports running over the bottoms, fastened to the high garter belt.

Over the whole ensemble was a short negligee. Its hem was higher than the lower border of the bikini bottoms. It had no lace trim to hide what it covered. It fastened with a single delicate pink pop button between my breasts.

"I've never worn this before," I said, softly. "Not for any of the hookups. Not for anyone else. It was at the accessory store, months ago. I bought it because it was perfect, but I honestly didn't think I'd ever have someone special enough to want to share it with. But I wasn't expecting to fall for you."

I reached out to take Anita's hands in mine.

"I hope this doesn't sound crass," Anita said, her voice thick. She cleared her throat. "I want to remember the first time I saw you wearing this. I want a photo?"

I grinned. "I've sent you nudes. Why would I want you not to have a photo of this? Get your phone."

Anita took a handful of photos, some of me standing before her, some posing. One of me curled up on the hotel bed, looking at her. When I looked at the photo on her phone I could see the clear desire for her in my eyes.

I stood again as she set her phone aside. Stepping close to her, I carefully removed her glasses, folded them, then placed them on the dresser beside us. A moment later, Anita set mine down beside them. Then I touched my index finger to her chin and raised her face to mine.

The sight of me in the lingerie, or the declaration of love, or both, had Anita's breathing rapid even before our lips touched. Her hands rested on my bare shoulders, while mine curled around her narrow waist as we began to kiss. She moaned softly into the kiss, deeply aroused already, but controlling her reactions, as was I.

My own heart raced as our tongues met, and I heard a soft sound emerge from my own throat. I broke the kiss, but drew her body to mine, so that I could whisper into her ear.

"Do anything you want to me, love," I said, softly. "I'm yours, and I'm so in love with you that I'm aching. It's even okay if you want to rip my outfit off - though it might be nice if I could wear it again for you."

"I won't damage it," she promised.

"It may already be too late for the panties," I said, "depending on how well they survive hand-washing."

"Oh, God, I know, right?" Anita replied, with a brief laugh. "Mine, too." Then she added, "Anything?" Her eyes were alight.

"Anything," I confirmed. "I trust you... but should I be nervous?"

Anita stooped to pick up the robe we'd discarded when it fell from my shoulders. Pulling the belt cord free, she wrapped it around her hands and tugged it tight. "Maybe so."

Our room had two queen-sized beds. My girlfriend moved me up against one of them and pressed her lips to mine. Though she kept the kiss light, I could feel her rapid breathing as she popped the button on the front of my negligee and slid it down my arms. Next, she lifted the thin bra straps over my shoulders, guiding my arms to draw the straps over them without disturbing the bra, which remained in place.

Breaking the kiss, she folded the negligee carefully, laying it almost reverentially on the room's desk.

Anita still held the cord from my robe. Instructing me to turn around, she gathered my arms behind my back, held my wrists together, and carefully bound them with the cord.

"This string isn't ideal," she said. "If it gets too tight, say the word. You remember the word?"

"Sunflower," I said, promptly.

Then she turned me back around. "You're so beautiful," she breathed, as she looked me over. "I'm sorry. I need another."

I was puzzled by her words until I saw her pick up her phone again, capturing a few photos of me standing bound in my lingerie. I had a feeling that these photos were going to be of great benefit to Anita on evenings that we couldn't spend together, and I was okay with that.

She motioned to the bed. Without the use of my arms, climbing onto it was awkward. I dove forward, then rolled into position. Unfortunately, the small struggle had dislodged the right side of my bra. "Uh, love...?" I said.

Anita moved up beside me. "We can't have that," she said, of my uncovered breast, but before drawing the bra back into place, she lowered her head and sucked my nipple.

"Ngh.." I groaned.

"You're so turned on," she murmured. "That's perfect."

Anita arranged the pillows to ease the strain on my wrists, supporting my upper back with pillows. Needing more for my head, she stole pillows from the second bed. "Comfortable, Kay?" she asked.

I nodded.

She began running her fingers over my body, paying special attention to following the lace supports of my lingerie and stroking the sheer panels. After a moment, she said, "I brought something from home, too, that I think you'll like, later. Have I ever told you I think you're the sexiest girl I've ever known?"