White Lies

Hey there, fellow Litsters!

This is my first foray into the Lesbian category so I sincerely hope I do a good enough job. Please do drop your valuable votes, comments and private feedback to let me know how I fared. I am writing this story on the request of SAbitch. Hence, if I did a good job, credit me, and if I didn't, blame her for coaxing this story. :P

If you are a first time reader of my work, know beforehand that I like slightly offbeat characters - eccentric, manipulative, obsessive and not always likeable. Bear that in mind before proceeding further.

A shout of thanks to my editors NaokoSmith and Bramblethorn.

"This was what love meant after all: sacrifice and selflessness. It did not mean hearts and flowers and a happy ending, but the knowledge that another's well-being is more important than one's own."

- Lost in Time, Melissa de la Cruz

* *

November 2012

"Stop fidgeting," snapped the irritated seamstress.

Sophie Larson was uncharacteristically restless. The intricately designed Italian wedding dress did not fit her exactly as everyone had hoped. It required some last second adjustment which was in progress, but her thoughts were as far removed from her dress as possible.

It was not the dress. It was not the ring. It was not the picturesque venue, the time, the swing band, the lavish feast. None of it and yet all of it. It was what it all represented -- the wedding to a man she barely knew. The only thing she knew about him with any degree of surety was that he loved her -- truly, madly, deeply.

But try as she might, she could not bring herself to reciprocate. The agitation was in every nerve ending of her being, tingling with an eerie frequency. She could not see, she could not think. A nameless dread haunted her, hovering over her like a phantasm.

"Will you stand still?" barked the irritated seamstress, struggling to take the requisite measurements.

She couldn't. All her rehearsed poise faltered miserably around her. She had spent ages mentally preparing herself for this moment, steeling her will, but her resolve cracked, opening a scar into the heart of a lover whose unrequited love still burnt strong.

With a rising trepidation growing inside her, her eyes went to the clock mounted on the wall, counting off the seconds with a merciless rhythm to the final ceremony. Every second passed with a shudder going through her body. Blood pounded in her ears. She was acutely aware of what awaited her in a few short hours.

Sophie tried once more, holding her breath while the tape measure wrapped around her waist for the last time. The seamstress sighed and walked away to do her job.

"These new brides and their last minute jitters," she thought disapprovingly.

She left with a sigh, leaving Sophie on the brink of a meltdown. Sophie walked to a full length mirror and looked at herself. Her face still betrayed no emotion, as if it was immune to the mayhem unfolding behind those blue eyes.

She blinked, and the reflection changed. She was wearing a wedding dress now. This one fit her perfectly. The veil on her face failed to hide her blank look. The whole room was deathly silent, rendering the metronomic ticking of the clock deafening. Sophie looked at herself once more and something snapped. Something deep within her just gave way, crumbling to a wave of panic.

Sophie started running. She ran out the door past a bewildered maid. The stairs flew by, two steps at a time. Other guests at the Carlyle stared at the famous socialite scampering down the stairs.

"Room 326," she dimly recalled.

Unaware of where her legs were taking her, suddenly she stopped in front of a door. The number 326 was elegantly embossed on a gold plaque under the crest of the legendary Carlyle hotel.

Her hand reached up and knocked on the door thrice in quick succession. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath as dainty footsteps approached the door. Her mind was filled with a chaotic tempest of thoughts struggling to find the right words. The footfalls grew even closer, but words still remained elusive.

The ornate door finally swung open revealing a puzzled brunette beauty. The expression under the pleated brown hair quickly changed from puzzled to concerned seeing her best friend with a petrified look on her face.

"Sophie? What are you doing here?" she asked, visibly concerned.

"I can't go through with it, Kenzie," came the shaky reply. "I just can't."

Mackenzie Clark's face blanched. She hurriedly stepped aside.

"Get in."

Sophie staggered inside. Mackenzie closed the door behind them and sat her down on the elegantly shaped couch. Her right hand caressed her best friend's silky blonde hair. There was no judgement within Mackenzie, only a profound understanding of what she was going through.

"Talk to me, Soph," she said, putting a palm on Sophie's cheek and turning her face so that their gazes met. Her green eyes locked with the crystalline blue irises of her friend.

"What is there to say?" Sophie wailed. "I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend. It's tearing me up from within."

"Why not?"

Tears burst forth from Sophie's eyes and flowed down her cheeks. Mackenzie immediately took Sophie's face in her arms and clutched her close. Fat tear drops rolled off Sophie's cheek and onto Mackenzie's dress.

After the copious sobbing subsided, Sophie felt her face slowly raised to that of an angel, an angel with dark brown hair, sharp green eyes and lips which could melt the hardest heart. The angel used one finger from each hand to wipe her tears away.

"You know why not," she managed to squeeze out through her parched throat.

Mackenzie placed her friend back against the couch. She sighed as she fetched a bottle of water for her friend. Her right hand clasped Sophie's tightly and the other palm softly stroked Sophie's forearm. She emptied half of the bottle and put it on the table. Her expectant eyes turned towards the one person she trusted implicitly.

"We've been over this, Soph," she stated. "This is all for the best."

"How can you say that?" Sophie wailed. "I love someone else!"

"Yes," replied Mackenzie softly. "... and I love you back as much, if not more. But I can't let you do this. It would break Martin's heart and I'm not strong enough to see him cry."

Her hand trailed down the side of Sophie's cheek, now tracing the outline of her lips. Her eyes locked onto her former lover's with an earnest gaze which said so much more than words ever could. Sophie's lips, her luscious red lips, demanded to be kissed. It took a herculean effort for Mackenzie to resist, but she knew she had to.

She was barely strong enough to resist her former lover, but not nearly strong enough to see a single shred of hurt on Martin's face, and she was definitely not strong enough to be the cause behind that hurt.

* *

December 2007

The apartment was situated on the fringe of the Columbia University campus. It was right in the middle of Morningside Heights, diagonally opposite St. Luke's Hospital. This was the academic district of New York City, teeming with college students and pretentious artists.

Mackenzie Clark and Sophie Larson had to use their respective family connections and wealth to get this apartment. The security deposit alone would be out of the reach of other students. The place was more than enough for two people. They immediately bonded over shared tastes in Russian literature, French nouveau art and almost every other conceivable subject. It was like the same soul confined within two bodies.

Two bodies which made heads turn wherever they went. Mackenzie was classically beautiful with her green eyes and effervescent personality. She had a smile that could light up a room. Her body was more delicate and petite, quintessentially effeminate. Sophie was blonde and had the hourglass figure others would kill for. Her face seemed crafted with utmost care by someone in a moment of inspiration. She had a passion for tennis, giving her a toned physique. Her lithe build masked the musculature in her arms. She was a fitness freak, sprinting a mile and doing ten laps of the University pool every day.

A whole parade of guys lusted after them. Even some girls. The rest of the world seemed to get tongue-tied and fall over themselves just to be near either of them, but all their advances were politely rebuffed. They remained the forbidden fruit that none could pluck, but all could take to bed in their imaginations.

They themselves did not know how they fell in love, when they fell in love. It just happened, as if it was always meant to. Once the feeling bonded them together, it seemed as natural as the Earth's rotation. They were happy in their warm little cocoon where the real world couldn't judge them. To the outside world, roommates and best friends, the guise held perfectly.

Sure, they had both come off having the expected number of boyfriends, childhood crushes and others growing up, but when they looked at each other, there was something there that cannot be put down in words. Something primal, elemental, a raging inferno of passion and yet a tender love which could not be denied.

It was their senior year of college. The December air outside was chilly and a mist veiled their windows. Yet, they were utterly oblivious to the cold, sweating in reverence to their carnality. The aroma of sex saturated the air inside the room and the fireplace crackled and burnt doing its bit to raise the mercury.

Sophie's hands were tied to the brass bedposts by some colourful scarves. She shook her body impatiently, willing her friend to hurry up in the next room. Her eyes shifted from the door to the ceiling, to the frosted glass on the window and then down to her own naked body. Beads of sweat glistened all over her breasts and torso from the seemingly endless number of orgasms she had been through over the last few hours.

"How long has it been?" she wondered, desperate to see the alarm clock on the other dresser. Try as she might, she could not twist her neck enough.

"Damn," she muttered. "Why did I let myself get into this?"

The answer was on a coffee table a few feet to her right. Two goblets and an empty bottle of Pinot Gris had culminated in her allowing Kenzie to put those scarves to good use.

"She's crazy," Sophie thought, adding. "...and I love her for it."

Her mind flashed back to the special romantic dinner that Mackenzie made for her. She could not take her eyes off Sophie even as they ate. The food was a mere impediment to what lay after. Mackenzie used the wine to get her in the mood for something she had never experienced before. Then she took out the scarves.

After getting her tied up, Mackenzie parted her legs and dove into her. Her tongue drove Sophie off the edge of sanity into delirium and back again. That tongue was as relentless as it was skilful. It started teasing her tantalizingly, paying a special degree of attention to her calves and thighs. Just the tip of Kenzie's tongue delicately teased her inner thighs, making her squirm. Mackenzie took her sweet time making her way from the left thigh all the way to her inflamed orifice and down the right thigh. Each time, her tongue would come within millimetres of Sophie's engorged nub, but would divert at the last moment. Mackenzie's brown hair splayed all over Sophie's abdomen, tickling her when they scraped over her skin.

Sophie screamed in frustration. She tried to raise her hips into Mackenzie's face, but her thighs were pinned down by the entire weight of her devilish roommate. Her head rose painfully off the bed so she could look down at the face which she loved to see so much. The sex was feral, bordering on painful, but they never forgot that they were in love. They had been hopelessly in love right from their freshman year.

Just when she thought she would rip the scarves out from frustration, it happened. The rough layer of taste-buds of Kenzie's tongue rested against her clit. The sheer exhilaration of the first contact almost made her cum on the spot. The deviant tongue then wrapped around her erect clit, scrubbing it. Also, two fingers slipped into her damp orifice, hooking themselves inside her.

"Oh FUCK!" she screamed.

The two fingers became three. They moved in and out of her with a piston's rhythm. The fingertips made contact with her G spot at the end of every in-stroke, making a small shudder go through her loins. Her sex was a cauldron of seething desire which Mackenzie wantonly stirred with her fingers and tongue. The fingers and tongue interchanged places. Now the tongue plunged deep within her drenched orifice and she tweaked the throbbing clit between her thumb and forefinger.

The sudden stretching of her clit made Sophie feel a unique cocktail of pleasure and pain spread through her being. Her pheromones went on overdrive sending her arousal through the roof. She exuded the unique fragrance of sex from every pore of her body. Sophie gasped and lifted her hips into her lover's face.

Mackenzie lifted her face for an instant to see Sophie's eyes pleading with her to return her attentions to her hungry pussy. She smiled and lowered her face to the clit. This time, she planted her lips around the clit and took the very tip of it between her teeth. She pulled back with a sharp tug and simultaneously impaled the sopping vulva underneath with three fingers.

Sophie was shocked. Her senses were reeling under the overwhelming rush of pleasure. She screamed in several short yelps and thrashed against the bed, a massive orgasm erupting inside. Mackenzie knew from experience what was about to follow. She eagerly propped her face up on her elbows in front of the gaping opening and waited for the moment.

A clear liquid squirted out and splashed against the expectant face. More followed in spasmodic bursts, each burst ejecting her liquids onto her face and lips, dripping off her chin. Kenzie opened her mouth and captured the last few sprays.

Sophie took several deep breaths, her bosom heaving with each one. An incandescent flare danced before her eyes, dazzling her with a psychedelic whirl of colour. The riptide of orgasm had left her feeling distinctly woozy in its aftermath. Her body descended from the fluffy clouds as she felt a tongue lick its way up her sweaty torso. It planted a soft peck on each nipple and finally a pair of lips pressed against hers.

Mackenzie's tongue parted her roommate's lips and fiercely kissed her tongue, letting her have a taste of her own squirt. They lip-locked passionately, tonguing with gusto for several minutes before Mackenzie drew her face back. There was no sight on Earth better than the peaceful post-orgasmic pallor on Sophie's face.

"Did you like it?" Kenzie asked playfully, her fingers fiddling with her roommate's spent sex.

"It was... oh my god!" Sophie managed to squeeze out between gasps.

"Well, I hope it inspires you," Kenzie said, swinging her legs around and straddling her sweaty face. She was also leaking from the raw lust of what had transpired. Leaning forward, Mackenzie parted those rosy nether lips which she loved to make love to.

"Kenzie. No. I'm too sensitive right now..." the rest of Sophie's words were cut off by a delicious labia being lowered onto her face.

"Put your tongue to better use than talking," snapped Kenzie.

Sophie was helpless. Part of her got stuck into the enviable task of eating out the woman she had come to love more than she thought possible. Another part prayed she could withstand the onslaught of one more shattering climax.

"One more..." she muttered, snapping back to the present. "Then one more after that, then one more... then another one... then..."

After a bit she gave up trying to count how many orgasms she had been through. It was probably in double digits. Not bad considering they had come one after another with no respite. There had come a time when she was no longer aware of herself or her surroundings. All her senses had succumbed to a continuous orgasmic fugue. The orgasmic haze persisted as her roommate churned out more from her body than she thought humanly possible.

Her thoughts were broken when the door opened. Mackenzie stood in the doorway, completely naked except for a wicked grin on her lips and a ribbed dildo strapped onto a harness around her waist. She held a box under her arm, the contents of which were currently left to Sophie's imagination, although she was sure she would be very intimately acquainted with every implement inside that box.

Kenzie took a deep breath and smiled.

"I love the smell of fresh sex in the morning."

She lay the box down beside the bed and procured a Gatorade from the fridge. Undoing the cap, she brought the tip near Sophie's lips.

"Drink this," she said. "Don't want you dehydrating on me now."

Sophie obeyed and replenished the fluids in her system. The size of the box told her she would be needing all the energy this energy drink could provide. Her lower lips were sore and her clit hurt from the streak of orgasms she had been through. Yet, the prospect of even more made her tingle with excitement.

Mackenzie tossed the empty bottle away and lay Sophie flat on the bed. Her hands grasped her roommate's shoulders and her legs pinned down her knees. The head of the dildo rested along her slit. Kenzie flicked a remote switch in her hand and the mass of plastic and rubber began to vibrate. The vibrations sent ripples through Sophie's body, promising a new vista of pleasures up ahead.

"Happy Birthday, Soph," she said with a smile and drew back for the first thrust.

Sophie braced for impact. The first push itself embedded the entire eight inches inside her. She gasped and looked up to see a wicked gleam in Kenzie's eyes. Those eyes came closer to her. Soon, Sophie could feel her roommate's warm breath on her skin and could see those haunting eyes inches from her own.

Their faces were close, so close. Sophie was barely aware of the dildo inside her. All her senses focused on that face. Her gaze roamed over Mackenzie's face, resting on every beautiful feature. It started at her eyes of course, then went along her pale cheek. It lingered on her sumptuous lips for a small eternity.

Those lips were even closer now. So close that every exhaled breath caressed Sophie's skin. They raised themselves to Sophie's forehead and kissed her. The kiss moved from her forehead, leaving her skin intermittently to leave trail of lip-marks down her cheek and neck. Sweat glistened on her skin, flushed crimson.

Mackenzie continued to pepper her with a multitude of kisses. For a time, the raging sexuality had given way to a tender love. Those lips eventually sought out hers and they kissed. Sophie surrendered to the sweet sensuality of the simple kiss. Her interactions with Kenzie may have become a kink-riddled carnivale, but it was the underlying love which they never forgot.

Their tongues did not force the issue, rather made love to each other. Kenzie let her taste buds wander to various corners of Sophie's mouth, savouring the intimacy. It was a slow and studied kiss, a perfect interlude.

Kenzie broke the kiss and sat back. Sophie looked at her dreamily, still barely aware of the plastic contraption inside her.

"She looks so beautiful," thought Mackenzie. "so... vulnerable."

The beautiful blonde hair lay strewn on the pillows. Sophie took deep breaths, her breasts inflating and subsiding with each one. Her nipples stuck out hard atop them. Her face was exhausted, almost stationery after their exertions. She opened her eyes a sliver and smiled at Kenzie, telling her she was okay.

"I won't let anything come between us," a private voice echoed deep in the recesses of Mackenzie's mind.