Monica lay on the cool bedspread gazing through the thin veil of white that draped from the top of the four-post bed to the worn-out hardwood floor, noticeably tread upon by a long line of renters and tourists. Pelorus Sound lurked in the distance, providing added peacefulness to the moment. Nestled among the forested hills of New Zealand, bulging from the water's edge like healthy young bosoms, the Sound had always been Monica's favorite place in the whole world; the exact reason why she had chosen this part of the South Island as the place she'd retire to once ready to live the quiet life.
On the oversized bed, a woman she only knew for a few months, but felt as if she'd known for a lifetime, caressed her until she had an orgasm for the third time in an hour. Monica never met a woman who could excite her simply by her imagining her hugged in the purple lace bra and panty set she bought for her. This was one of Monica's longest relationships of her short 23-year-old life—2 months and 26 days. And in the sad reality of her life, Monica had been masturbated by them all—tall men, short men, black men, Asian—but never by a
Tabi;
that was the mysterious, beautiful woman's name. Monica assumed it was short for Tabitha, but that, Monica figured, was more of a third-month revelation; right before meeting her parents, but after seeing her fully naked or holding her over the toilet while vomiting after a fabulous night at the Slip Inn Café and Wine Bar in Havelock.
"How was that?" Tabi asked, plopping onto the pillow after releasing Monica's clitoris from between the slight gap in her front teeth; her tongue licking her overstuffed lips that only nature could provide, further exciting Monica. "I told you the best was yet to come."
Tabi lit a Freedom cigarette and laughed, her small breasts jiggling. Monica couldn't help but to stroke her and watch her breasts quiver to a halt within seconds of her touch. Tabi had become Monica's new obsession; an obsession that Tabi apparently didn't mind being.
Tabi held the cigarette over Monica's lips and she took a long drag and tasted herself on the filter. Once her lips released from the paper, Tabi leapt from the bed and hurriedly dressed.
"Oh shit, I'm gonna be late for work," she said pulling on a pair of jet-black boxers and a tissue paper-thin, white wife-beater tank. "The mother fucker's just looking for an excuse to fire my ass since I wouldn't give him a blow job in the shed the other day. I gotta go."
Tabi pulled on the baggy overalls that lay draped over the tattered wicker chair. Her body floated childlike in the garment noticeably too large for her small, tight body. Tabi was a beekeeper. It was an unlikely profession for someone with the looks of a supermodel, but she was the best beekeeper around. She farmed honey at Drake's Bee Apiary in Blenheim. She often spoke of moving her beekeeper skills to the United States, but Monica changed the subject during these moments of dread. She couldn't bare the thought of losing her beekeeper, so Monica often reminded Tabi of why she already was where she belonged.
"New Zealand couldn't bear to lose their best and sexiest beekeeper," Monica would remind. "Stay put and stay the best." Terror had a funny way of acting itself out.
"Bees and pussies," Tabi would often joke about these being her favorite pets.
"Insects and kittens" Monica would always tease back.
Tabi would always follow that up with, "Damn right sista…no damn dogs on my watch!"
"You better tell that Drake-fuck to stay away from you. That's my ass," Monica said, clutching with a smack the small, firm mound of ass she could feel of Tabi's beneath the heavy material. "You don't want any little
Tabi
s runnin' around now do you?"
Monica could see Tabi's eyes get serious. A common look for her. Tabi had the kind of dark eyes that penetrate through a person; the look that can suck a person in to where one never wants to be, while at the same time drawing one in to where one never wants to escape.
Tabi slid her right hand down Monica's breasts, pinching her left nipple as she made her way down to her crotch. Monica was still wet from their marathon earlier and prayed that Tabi wanted to go for one last lap. Tabi inserted her middle finger into the moistness and began to move in and out to an imaginary beat. Monica's breaths grew shallow as she stared into Tabi's dark eyes, getting lost in their secrecy. As they began to move in unison, the beekeeper overalls pressed roughly against both of their bodies and Tabi began to speak.
"The good 'ole US of A would pay well for my skills. Don't you think?"
Monica was unsure exactly what skills Tabi was referring to. Tabi had so many. Tabi always had ingenuous things to talk about. Over coffee, over a slice of pizza at Pepinos Pizza, while making her current girlfriend come. It didn't matter to Monica. She knew that this talk turned her on, and she didn't care. Whatever made her get off she was willing to do.
"What skills are we referring to, Tabi?" Monica questioned, trying to sound sincerely interested as her moans nearly overrode rational thought.
Monica was so wet that Tabi's hand kept sliding out, but Tabi remained diligent and kept up the pace making Monica wetter and wetter. Monica couldn't believe she was going to come again and enticed Tabi to talk some more. Some women got excited by an Italian accent or a Latin lover—Monica was turned on by the talk of a petite, dark-haired New Zealander who talked about honey and how to remove a bee's stinger from your ass.
"Do you know what four commodities that the US of A would pay big for that I can give them?" Tabi asked, grinding against Monica. "No?" And then without hesitation, Tabi contributed the response herself.
"Number one—honey. The sweetest of all the commodities. Sweet and sticky and smooth to the touch"
Monica wished that she had some honey to drip over Tabi's breasts so she could lick it off her erect nipples. Then her fantasy would flow forward, having the thick liquid drip down getting tangled in the hair just above the place she loved to taste so much. But instead, Tabi continued her lecture as she fingered Monica who inched closer and closer to escstacy.
