Mie & Aren

Mike & Karen

Disclaimer:

All characters are 18 years of age or older while actively engaging in sexual activity. This story is a prequel/sequel (sprequel?) to my other work, Alex & Alexa. As always, many thanks and gratuitous panty shots from Freja and Jeanie to my long-suffering editor and beta-reader for their assistance in polishing up and improving this work. Reviews are welcome; flames will be snickered at and deleted with extreme prejudice. Enjoy!

Please Note:

There are incest themes with a secondary couple in this story. Just a forewarning.

Chapter XVI -- Closure Isn't Always an Ending

"Tell me is it really true,

This feeling that I feel for you!

Your own kind of loving that makes me think nothing

Could ever take the place of you!

And it's so funny funny

What you do, honey honey

What you do, what you mean to me!

And you know honey honey

That is so funny funny

That you mean all the world to me!"

Alex and Alexa stood in the entrance to the kitchen, watching in amusement while Mike and Karen danced around together, the radio on the windowsill playing the bubblegum tune from the early Seventies. The song had begun playing and his parents just got up from the table and began dancing together. If the older couple was aware of them, they took no pains to show it, since they were focused solely on one another.

Thus it was, and ever shall be,

Alex thought as he watched.

"Ever since you came my way,

I knew it was my lucky day!

The sun started shining when you started smiling

And I know it's gonna stay that way!"

"And it's so funny funny

What you do, honey honey

What you do, what you mean to me!

And you know honey honey

That it's so funny funny

That you mean all the world to me!"

"I can't believe what total dorks you guys are when you're together," Alexa drawled from where she leaned against the door frame, just watching. "I mean, you're the scariest power couple I know, bar none, and then I find you doing this."

"Are you sure you're not just jealous because you two don't dance around like this on a whim?" Karen pointed out, holding her giant husband's hand and pirouetting under and past him. "Because we'd totally understand if you were."

"She's kinda got a point," Alex mused, shrugging. "We're usually too busy getting immediately naked and ravsging each other to spend any time dancing."

"Well, husband, maybe you should get on that and start thinking about what we dance to," Alexa declared, giving him a sidelong look. "I'm not used to being shown up, even by my big sissy."

"Who, if I'm following this logic correctly, is showing you up by dancing around the kitchen with my father to a Sweet song from seventy-one?" he posited. "Is that right?"

"Count on these two to find a way to make that possible," Alexa sighed, shaking her head. "D'you think we'll ever be that in love?"

"I dunno," Alex replied. "Gotta remember, we caught you dancing around in your underwear to 'Disco Inferno' soon after you got here. You don't have a lot of room for judging their musical tastes."

"Whose side are you on, nephew?" she almost demanded, trying to sound offended, but failing.

"This is one of those losing questions where there's no right answer for me, so I'm just gonna stay mute," he announced.

"First time for everything," Alexa, Mike and Karen all answered in unison before laughing. At least they were all in agreement about something.

***

The St George Campus, the following day ...

"Still can't believe you were pulling the wool over everyone's eyes," the brunette girl said as she sat at the table with Alex and several others, pointing her plastic fork at him. "I mean, how on earth did you manage to not broadcast that

everywhere

?"

"Hey, we were as surprised as anyone," Alex answered, opening his juice bottle. "We spent the whole summer and fall terrified that we were gonna give ourselves away somehow, and everything'd come crashing down around us, y'know?"

"Well, even if I can't directly sympathise, I understand about feelin' up against it," she agreed. "I kinda feel bad for teasing you late last year about how you didn't have the hots for your aunt."

"I feel bad for feeling like I had to lie and conceal it," he said, shrugging. "We both do, best believe it."

"Hey, nobody blames you," said another student sitting across from him, next to the girl. He was looking off at the cafeteria lineup, watching Alexa order something. "Like, nobody blames you for falling for her, and not for feeling like you had to conceal it. Had to be tough, man."

"You have

no

idea," Alex sighed, looking down at his plate. "And there's still fallout, y'know? We both still get nasty little notes taped to our lockers, calling us perverts and so on. We've even seen little pamphlets and posters around campus with caricatures of us, doing nasty things and announcing how depraved we are."

"I don't get it," said another girl two seats down from Alex, the one next to him empty and being saved for Alexa. "I've checked, there are lots of countries now that support that sort of

marriage ... France, Australia, Brazil, Finland, Russia, France, the Netherlands ... I mean, these aren't exactly ghetto nations, y'know? Hell, there's even some states down south where it's legal. What's the holdup for us?"

Alex shrugged. "We're making a legal challenge, and it'll happen in the late spring, probably. Not like we're under the gun here. 'sides, my family's getting ready to move, so there's other stuff on our mind."

"Ooh, yeah, I volunteered for that," said the first girl, nodding. "I know a raft of us did. Not just to support you and Lexi, but because most people'd go out of their way to help your parents, y'know? So there's, like, thirty or more students who have volunteered to come and help you guys move."

"Still weird to me," Alex sighed, shaking his head. "Not like we can't afford a fleet of movers, after all. Well, I can't, but my parents can. And yeah, movers are taking the big stuff, but then there's all you guys too."

"Pretty sure a bunch of us are doin' it because everyone's heard your parents are turning your current house into student housing, so they're lookin' for an in," she quipped, grinning. "I'd consider it myself if I didn't already live so close to ca-"

Everyone paused in the conversation and glanced over toward the food line, where an argument had broken out. Alex noticed that Alexa was ahead in the line and now looking back. A student, who looked Indian at first glance, was having an angry exchange with one of the kitchen staff members, pointing over at Alexa. Sighing, Alex was reasonably certain what had happened, and got up to go and intercede.

He stepped up beside the angry student and smiled at her. "Hi, I'm Alex. Do I want to know what happened?"

She glanced at him for a moment, her dark hazel eyes flashing before pointing a shaking finger at the food prep worker, who was flushed red with anger. "She ... this woman, she spit in your fiancée's food when she thought nobody was looking!"

"I most certainly did not!" the worker shot back.

"Well, shouldn't be hard to prove one way or another," Alex said, shrugging. He beckoned Alexa over, and she walked up, looking curious. Everyone in the immediate area was staring at them quietly. "What did you order?" he asked.

"Thought I'd try the cordon bleu," the blonde girl replied. "Pretty sure I ordered mine without spit, though."

"I

didn't

spit in your food!" the woman behind the line protested through gritted teeth, glaring at Alexa.

Alex ignored her and asked the student to point out where she'd seen the woman do this. The Indian girl pointed to a prep line and said that was where she'd seen the woman do it.

"This seems easy enough," Alex reasoned. "We have the line manager check the order numbers to make sure that's Alexa's cordon bleu, then we check the footage from that camera up there ..."

He pointed at a small security camera.

"If she didn't spit in the food, we all owe this fine lady and apology," he continued. "If, on the other hand, she

did

hork in my fiancée's food ..."

The woman behind the line was now pale and trembling as Alex asked for the kitchen manager to be brought over. The manager listened to what everyone had to say, and then turned to her worker. "Anything you want to tell me before we check the video feed?"

The worker's nerve broke. "It's ... it's not right! What they're doing isn't right! It's immoral!"

"Not your job to decide, and

certainly

not your job to contaminate people's food," the manager said tersely. "Now all the food on the entire line must be thrown out, because

you

decided your bodily fluids should be in the mix. Go wait in the office, we'll draw up your termination papers there."

The prep cook's skin was ashen as she turned and walked away. The manager addressed the small group. "I know words can't really make up for this, but I'm sorry. What

can

I do to make this right?"

Alexa gave a small shrug. "You just did the right thing, and I appreciate it. I suppose just make sure that the staff understands that this sort of thing can

never

happen, no matter how much something offends their personal sensibilities."

The woman nodded. "There will be meetings for all staff tomorrow on the subject, and they'll all be signing agreements that they understand. You sure I can't comp your lunch?"

Alexa smiled. "No, I'm finding I don't have an appetite right this second. Thank you anyway."

Alex and Alexa turned and walked back to their table, inviting the other student who had taken issue with the kitchen to join them. Another student gave up her chair, and she sat next to Alexa. She blushed as Alexa took her hand, smiling warmly.

"That was very brave and kind of you to do that," she said softly, while several people around her nodded and agreed, thanking her. "It wasn't your problem, but you stood up for what you thought was right. Not everyone would do that."

"I had to say something," the girl replied, still blushing but now meeting Alexa's gaze. "If it could happen to you, it could happen to anyone, yes? She cannot decide who is right and wrong."

"What's your name?" the blonde girl asked. "I'm Alexa, but you probably know that."

The girl smiled sheepishly. "My name is Tanuja."

"That means 'daughter', right?" Alex asked from just behind his wife.

Alexa turned and looked at him, giving him a wry look. "Okay, since when do you speak Hindi?"

He shrugged. "I don't yet, but I've seen enough Bollywood movies to recognize the word and its meaning."

"Ignore him," Alexa said dryly while people around the table laughed, and even Tanuja giggled. "He gets it from his overgrown father. "Is this your first year here?"

Tanuja nodded.

"Mine too," Alexa said cheerfully. "What are you studying?"

"Business management and hospitality," replied the girl. "I maybe want to run a hotel, or a resort, or a fancy restaurant back home. Or maybe here, if I can figure out how to stay. I am already worried about my funds and my accommodations."

Alexa looked back at Alex for a moment, who gave her a knowing smile and a wink.

***

A certain dorm room, January 1987 ...

Karen and Lisa were sitting on Karen's large, plush bed, making out, their arms and legs wrapped around each other. Their breasts were squashed together, and their gooey pussies pressed tight, clits kissing. Their tongues rolled around inside each other's mouths as they expressed their deep affection for one another. They always ended up like this after making love, but it was usually just indicative of a breather (for Lisa) before the next round began.

The kiss ended and the two women sighed as they pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed and breathing slowly. Lisa's fingers stroked up and down Karen's supple back, while Karen's caressed gently through Lisa's long, red hair. Karen felt the pat of a single tear on one of her large breasts and smiled softly. She knew they weren't tears of grief, Lisa just happened to leak when she was feeling emotional.

And tonight was one of those nights.

Lisa opened her eyes and gave a tiny smile, her eyes still glistening. "Y'sure you're not mad at me?"

Karen's hands came to rest on Lisa's cheeks, and the bronze-haired goddess smiled lovingly, her eyes locked with her lover's. Her thumbs stroked along those pale cheeks slowly, reassuringly.

"Why would I be mad, my love?" she whispered, her lyrical voice giving Lisa shivers, the way it always did. Was she completely insane for what she was doing?

Lisa almost sniffled as she answered. "I ... imagine it's not every day that someone breaks off a relationship with you, Kar. I just can't picture it."

"Oh?" queried Karen, her mouth making a cute little 'o' shape as she teased her friend. "Were we in a monogamous relationship and I missed the memo? Because I'm reasonably certain I've had my share of fun times with others on this campus. I think even you might have."

"Well ... once or twice over the past two years, maybe, but nothing to speak of," Lisa said, looking off to the side and blushing. "I just ... oh, you know I'm no good at saying these things, Kar, I --

gnnnn!

"

"I'm aware of the fact that you

think

you're no good at this sort of thing," Karen whispered, reaching down and brushing her thumb over Lisa's clit, making the slender redhead shudder and moan, biting her lip as her back arched. "But I think you're just afraid to hear yourself say what you need to say. So I'm going to edge you closer and closer to orgasm, but not let you cum, until you say what's rolling around in that pretty little red head of yours."

"

Gnnnnnnn

, no fair!" Lisa whined, writhing but unable to escape, since Karen had her strong dancer's legs wrapped around her. "How'm I s'sposed to think when you're turning my nervous system to Jell-O?"

"You'd best hurry, then ..." Karen said simply, strumming her thumbpad across the little bud again.

Panting and squeezing her eyes shut, Lisa tried to compose herself through the subtle erotic onslaught. Karen knew everything about her sexually, and Lisa had no defences when her roomie was engaging her will. There was only compliance. Once again, the notion of how insane she must be to give this up clouded her thoughts.

"I ... I love you, Kar, and falling

in

love with you would be the easiest thing in the world," she said in a quavering whisper, somehow talking over the electric jolts of pleasure lancing around her body, courtesy of Karen's gentle, but relentless thumb. "But I'd ... I'd spend the rest of my life trying to measure up to you and feeling like I never could. And I ... I can't do that."

Karen's thumb stopped moving over her clit and pussy and Lisa collapsed forward into her lover's waiting embrace, shaking and panting, her eyes closed while she waited for the unreal bliss to pass. She hadn't cum, but Karen made even edging so pleasurable that she preferred it to orgasms with almost any other woman she knew of.

She had to be crazy to give this up.

"Are you really that concerned?" Karen whispered, stroking Lisa's hair. "Why do you think you don't measure up?"

Lisa let out a deep sigh as she finally caught her breath and lifted her head to look into her friend's eyes. How she loved Karen's eyes, the bewitching golden-amber colour that could be so soft and loving, or so focused and intimidating. She felt so drawn into them, and maybe that was part of the problem.

Losing herself.

"I ... I know myself, Kar," she admitted. "And yeah, maybe I am really awesome in some ways, but ... if I was committed to you, like, in love with you, that's exactly what I'd be -- a creature of commitment. And I'm worried I'd lose all sense of myself that had nothing to do with you."

She blushed and buried her face in her friend's shoulder. "I don't know if that makes any sense to you.

It probably sounds silly to someone as composed as you are."

"Not really," Karen answered, hugging Lisa tight before pulling her face up to kiss her again. She smiled as she looked into her Lisa's eyes. "Do you remember me talking about the 'Hall of Ancestors' back in my parents' home?"

.

Lisa nodded, always somewhat amused at how Karen referred to the Blackwell Manor, the giant estate she'd lived in her whole life, as her parents' home, rather than her own. It might very well had been that this remarkable young woman felt more at home here on campus rather than back in that huge mansion she described as a mausoleum. "You might've mentioned it eight or nine million times."

"Well, I assure you, I understand your fears about 'measuring up,'" Karen said, stroking Lisa's cheek with her thumb again. "Every time, when I was a little girl, I'd have to walk down that hall to get to the stairs going up to my bedroom if I was in the west wing of the house."

"Mmmm, poor little rich girl," Lisa teased in a soft voice, rubbing her nose against Karen's.

"Hush, and let me continue my monologue," Karen chided. "As I was saying, I would have to walk down the hall, and along the walls were these portraits of my ancestors, staring down at me, assessing me, judging me."

"Kids' minds play evil tricks on them," Lisa agreed.

"No so much a trick of my mind as a cunning trick of artwork," replied Karen. "The oldest portrait goes back to the mid-seventeenth century, to old Wyllyam Blackwell. It seems my ancestors had a penchant for being painted with expressions of disdain or judgment plastered across their aquiline features, and commissioned their artists to make it look like their eyes were fixed on you, following you when you looked at them."

"Nothing creepy about

that ...

" muttered Lisa.

"Passing down that hall, and the halls of the various Blackwell estates that came before it, was meant to be a challenge, my love," Karen explained. "You were meant to feel the weight of earlier generations looking down on you, judging and assessing you, to see if you measured up."

"That's really heavy for a little girl," Lisa mused, knowing that she couldn't have made it out of a hall like that without crying. If her great-aunt Esther had been looking down at her from a wall, Lisa would've peed herself in terror.

"One day, my mother came home, and she found me standing on top of a chair and a large stack of books in the hall, precariously balancing so that I could stare back into the eyes of Henry Blackwell, patriarch of our family during the early nineteenth century," Karen continued. "I was nose-to-nose with him, glaring back, because I was so sick of the way he kept looking at me."

"Oh, wow, Kar," Lisa breathed. "Really got you, huh?"

"My mother, bless her, helped me down, and then she took me into the reading room and held me while I cried in her arms," Karen said somewhat distantly, remembering. "I was only nine at the time and had

just

come back from boarding school. I sure as Hell didn't need that old goat judging me."

She shook her head for a moment to clear it, and then smiled at her roomie again, enjoying the sensation of their bodies pressed together. She always did. But she knew what Lisa meant. "So yes, I do understand what you mean when you say you feel pressure about measuring up. And I am not mad at you. I may not completely agree with your assessment, my love, but it's your life, and you must live it for you. Not me, and not anyone else."