This is my second story here on Lit. I know I said I'd write one more sex-oriented, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. I decided that it had to be written. This is quite story-oriented and takes a while for the sex to start. So if you're here for a quick jerk-off or rub of the nub, then turn away. This is a one-shot, unlike The Nerd, which I will get to within a week or so. Lastly, comment and let me know how you feel about the story.
~~~~~
"When does her flight land?" I asked my blue-eyed lover.
"It should've landed by now. She should be home soon."
"Can we..."
"No. We promised ourselves we would tell her this time. We've been procrastinating from Thanksgiving last year and now it's almost time for Easter break. We must do this... I must do this." I sighed. I knew there was no way of getting out of telling her. Frankly, a part of me feels that I should get this over with, but another part of me is just too afraid of what might happen, of what she might say and how that would affect us.
You probably don't realize how much shit I'm in right now, or about why all of this matters that much. Well, it'll take at least an hour for her to get here, so I might as well fill you in.
My relationship with Kate Chambers started around a year ago... Actually, no wait, that won't explain why... Okay but then I'll have to... Fuck it, I'll rewind it a few more years.
~~~~~
My story starts way back when I was sixteen. I'm Marissa Sparks and up until that age, I was just your average closeted lesbian teenage girl from a typical American family. I was never that proud of my body, with a mousy little appearance, frizzy red hair, brown eyes and chest almost as flat as a board. Most people mistake me for an Irish person, and while I do come from Irish ancestry on my father's side, it was still quite a surprise to my parents in the hospital. They thought the nurse had switched their child for someone else's.
As a family, we were doing pretty alright, dad had a rather stable job that kept us afloat, I kept up my pocket money by working at a fast food chain, and my mother worked as a receptionist at some doctor's office to compensate for her hobbies, also known as her drinking problem.
But my family like many others, had its fair share of issues. The long sparring matches between my parents kept our house lively, to put it mildly. Usually my mother was drunk during said fights, making her quite unbearable during such times. And I had my 'in the closet' problem, so I was quite unsociable with them as well. Dad just assumed I didn't want to see them fighting, and I chose to leave it like that.
We got by, living in our twisted tranquility. Every day was no different from the previous, and while that may seem a little drab, it was actually quite nice.
Then life intervened, and it all came crashing down one Sunday night in March, around a month after my sixteenth birthday. Dad had passed away in a car crash.
It was nobody's fault really, no drunken douchebag or impatient asshole to blame. He was driving at night through a somewhat dark and empty highway. The police said a stray dog must've run by the front of the vehicle, causing him to swerve sharply and crash into a tree by the side of the road. He died before the medics could even get to him. That night was the saddest and darkest night of my life... or so I thought until it all settled.
Mother was never the same since dad died, partly because he kept her in line, but mostly because she did love him, even though it rarely showed. His death was killing her inside, and she chose to drink until she forgot that fact, instead of taking care of me. It made her even more unbearable to me, now that dad wasn't there to take the brunt of her torture. On some days she would mourn dad's death, on other days she would complain about how unsociable and ungrateful I was. I couldn't stand her anymore, and I usually locked myself in my room before she got home to avoid a confrontation. Those were the nights I hated the most, when it felt like I had lost everything in my world.
Alas, it was dad who ultimately came to my rescue. He was looking out for me from beyond the grave and that's what gave me the strength to continue. A few weeks later, our lawyer contacted us about my father's will. He had left my mother his pension, but for me he had set up an education fund a long time ago, and had been saving up for my college fees. It basically covered a large portion of my education fees until I made it through college. Coupled with the money I had been saving up as my pocket money and a scholarship, I could get through college undergrad without having to worry too much about my education and living expenses.
Since that day, I threw myself into my studies, setting aside any other issues like my mother, my sexuality and high school. I basically lived between school, the library and my part-time job, and didn't care for much else.
Finally, after a year of hard work, I got the scholarship I wanted and got into NYU Stern as a Political and Business Economics Major. It took some rope, tons of coffee, a garden hose, and a wet kitchen to get my Mother sober enough to realize what I'd been doing for the past year. She was finally proud of me... until she realized I was leaving her for good. The rest of it went down something like this.
~~~~~
"B-But you can't... You can't leave me..."
"Mother..."
"You can't... I won't let you... I won't pay for your college."
I chuckled. "Mother, you will not be paying for my college fees. I can assure you that much."
"B-But then..."
"Dad left me an Education fund in his will. If you had been sober when we met with the lawyer, you would know that. Also, I got myself a scholarship from NYU and have been saving up on the money from my part time job. I have more than enough for the small amount I should pay for my living expenses after dad's fund and my scholarship pitch in."
She went silent for a while after that. I took the time to make myself something to eat from the kitchen, while she just sat there, wet, in the middle of the kitchen, tied up to a chair while she processed all the information I just fed her.
"Why... Why are you leaving me?"
I was genuinely surprised. Was she seriously asking me this question? Wordlessly, I grabbed her bottle of vodka and held it up. Thankfully, she understood and had the decency to feel ashamed of herself.
"Oh, while we're here I might as well just throw this out there. I'm a lesbian."
She seemed like she might challenge me but one look from me silenced her.
After some more time, she piped up again as I was doing the dishes. "Can... Can I meet you again sometime?"
I turned back to her, my gaze softened. "Maybe... if you can start getting rid of this." I held up her bottle once again.
She took a deep breath and nodded. Tears glazed her eyes as she finally realized that she had to face the reality if she wanted her daughter once again. I loosened her ropes and we shared a brief hug.
~~~~~
Since then we've met a few times, but not really enough to say we're back to the mother-daughter relationship we had when I was a child. I am happy she mostly got rid of her habit, and even happier she did it for me. She's got a new family now, met a guy once she was sober again, got married to him after a year or two, and is now helping him with her now step-children. I made her promise not to neglect them like she did to me, that much was enough for me. But I digress from me and my current situation.
Shortly after I got into college, I met up and became fast friends with Rachel, my best friend, my rock, and at the moment, the person I'm most afraid of.
Rachel looked like your typical Korean chick, except she was extremely tall and voluptuous, courtesy of her mother. I found out much later that she only half-Korean, and her mother was American.
Rachel and I were attached at the hip back in college. We became friends because we had the same majors, same interests and didn't have a fatherly figure anymore. But we were so much more than just friends, we were like sisters. She was the first person I told anything, the first person I went for any help, the first everything. She was also the first person I told in college about my sexuality, and she supported me all the way through. She even became friends with my girlfriends... until they turned into exes of course. We've been through a lot together and I knew could trust her to be on my side no matter what happens.
Well... until I went and fucked it all up. I don't really know how she could forgive me for this.
It started way back, just before freshman year ended. Rachel had noticed that I hadn't gone home for the entire year and asked me about it. I told her all about my life and the shit I've been through. It was then that she suggested I come home with her for the vacation. I tried to talk her out of it. It was for the entire summer vacation, not just a weekend or a holiday. I obviously didn't want to burden her with that, but she insisted and even showed me an email from her mother welcoming me into their home. The two of them pressured me into it and eventually I caved.
Just before we left, Rachel was held back by one of our professors and asked to help out with a short project. I wanted to stay back and wait for her, but she pushed me to leave. I don't remember what she said but she's very good at convincing me. The next day she dropped me off at the airports with my bags, a ticket to San Fransisco, and her home address.
From the moment she opened that door, I think some part of me knew I was in love with her. Ultimately, that part dominated the rest of me and now I can't really imagine a world without my Kate. I spent a blissful few days with her, not knowing why I was so happy at the time, while we waited for her daughter, my best friend, Rachel Chambers to arrive.
Yes, that's how bad I fucked up. I was, and still am hopelessly in love with my best friend's mom.
Kate has always been beautiful, anyone can attest to that. She looks and is too young to be a mother. She was unfortunate enough to have a teenage pregnancy at the young age of 17. Disowned by her family and having an unsupportive father of her child, she had to work extremely hard to give Rachel the life she has today.
When I first met her, she was just 36. She had straight brown hair up to her shoulders, a thin frame, bountiful breasts, and a soft behind. She reminded me of Jennifer Aniston from the final season of friends, but she was taller. At five foot eight inches, most would assume that her model like build was what captured the hearts of many a man and lesbian she meets. But it's actually her striking blue eyes that leave people falling for her.
But it's not just her physical beauty. She's as kind as she can turn heads. And those few days with her made me happy like my own mother never had. She is the most wonderful person I've met, and I'm lucky to have her... until now.
While I was a sucker for her within a second, she still saw me as her daughter's best friend. It took a while for her to start seeing me as a woman who's in love with her. It started with Halloween that year. The summer vacation had ended with me realizing my growing love for her, and the three months that followed were filled with random one night stands and lots of dates to try and get rid of it.
But it just wouldn't go away. If anything, it got stronger.
After that summer, Rachel convinced me, once again, to visit for Halloween. And that year, the three of us decided to wear costumes and head out to meet a bunch of their friends. That year, Kate had decided to wear a costume that involved body paint. And seeing as Rachel couldn't paint if her life depended on it and Kate didn't want to change her costume, the task was left to me.
Yes, I was asked to paint on my insanely hot but forbidden crush while she stood naked mere inches in front of me. The whole ordeal took about an hour. Imagine yourself in my position for an entire fucking hour. I wore a pad to soak up my moist pussy as I worked. And it didn't fucking help. The intense sessions in the bathroom afterwards were amazing though.
It was then that I finally decided that the crush was probably going to stay. I gave myself one more chance until Christmas to see if I could get over it. But as we all now know, that didn't work out.
And so it started. Plan 'Get Kate to fall in love with you' was under way. I thought it was a hopeless cause that would finally help me move on with a rejection. But in the microscopic chance that it might actually work out, I didn't want to lose her over it. So I gave it everything I had.
She didn't seem respond to the little touches and the sudden increase in intimacy between us, no matter how long I tried. I almost gave up as the first semester of junior year ended with little progress. And entire year of my plan, and no progress whatsoever. That winter I decided to leave it all out on the floor. Rachel had taken up a project with one of her professors once again. But this time, she had to leave from break a few days early instead of arriving late.
Two days before I left for college and four days since Rachel had already gone back. I gathered all my courage, and walked into her room at night, just before she went to sleep.
