Lisette's Backthere Adventure Ch. 02

Lisette's Backthere Adventure, a fetish romance novella

CHAPTER TWO

After a few minutes without a peep from her rump, Lisette decides it's safe to go back inside. The icy blast of A/C stiffens her nipples and evaporates the sweat off her neck.

Lisette waits for her eyes to adjust from the glare outside. She twists, peeling her camisole and blouse off her sticky back. She feels thrill-tickle from the friction on those perked-up nubs. She licks her mouth and there's a hint of her martini's juniper and citrus.

The big room comes into focus and the sound comes up. Lisette mingles through the colorfully-dressed mob people and its white noise of chitter-chatter. She keeps a watch for Dana, hoping for that eyes-across-a-crowded-room thing to happen.

But the room is _too_ crowded. Everybody keeps bumping into her. They're all talking way too loud and they're all sucking up way too much air. Lisette's ears start to hurt, her light blouse starts to feel like a parka. Loose wisps of hair get loose and stick to her temples. She feels a twinge behind her navel.

There's a path out of the cramped space! She scoots through it.

~1~

There's a dim alcove that everyone else seems to be avoiding, so Lisette quick steps over there. One of her steps is a little TOO quick, and an airy jet squirts from her backside. She keeps moving (hoping it's not too stinky) and the gas keeps coming out in a long thin stream. It's like a thread, Lisette thinks, it feels like a spool unwinding inside me.

She sees why this nook's getting ignored: it's those incomprehensible artsy what-you-may-call-it things, lit from weird creepy angles. But that's a nice-looking pink granite base, Lisette thinks, and bends over (oof! now it's like *yarn* coming out of me!) to puts down her empty martini glass.

It's quieter and cooler; she can hear her insides, she feels her forearms get goose-bumpy. She closes her eyes, puts one hand over her growly tummy, sticks the other in an armpit. She's unscrunching wet fabric when she hears:

you look VERY hot

Lisette's heart yo-yos. The hair on her arms goes 70s afro. The bobbin in her belly rolls itself empty. There's a warm feeling in her rear and a warm breath in her ear:

that is a fascinating scent

It's a gentle voice, and Lisette cracks open one eye. She peeks out of the corner. And for the second time in a few minutes she's omigod-ing and going gushy over the prettiest thing she's ever seen in her life.

This prettiest-thing-ever has shortish hair, with a loose hank that keeps falling in front of her eyes. Twinkly blue gray eyes. Every time that hair slips down over those t.b.g.e.s, Lisette feels a tingle run along her spine. And every time it's flicked back into place, she feels a tingle between her knees.

"I have a crush on you," the woman says.

Wait. What? Lisette swallows a mouthful of spit.

She's boyish-cute, nearly as tall as Lisette, wearing a casual sporty sexy look - an early Coco Chanel kind of thing, jersey and tricot.

"Oh. Am I too forward?" She sticks out a hand. "I'm Joel Fenimore."

Lisette goes wide-eyed and slackjawed. Eventually she manages to say:

"THE Joel Fenimore???"

Joel blinks. "Is there more than one of me here?"

Lisette's jibbering: "No. No, wait. I mean..," This is like the scene outside on the porch with Dana, but the roles have switched. "No, what I meant was..." Lisette realizes she's still got her hand stuck in her wet underarm.

Joel interrupts: "Oh, I'm not that big of a deal[*]." She touches Lisette's forearm, traces a finger along the cotton sleeve, over the cuff to her wrist, slides into Lisette's armpit. "Here. Let me get that for you."

Lisette's so star-struck ("i was a fan before!" and "that was so cool!" and "nobody's ever done that!") that she doesn't notice Joel's fingers closing gently around hers.

And the next thing she knows, they're holding hands.

~ ~ ~

[*] Joel Fenimore generated a buzz by gracefully declining one of those vulgar "genius grant" things. A subsequent college commencement speech that Joel presented (she did a riff on TANSTAAFL, replacing "A Free Lunch" with "No Strings Attached") got approximately eleventeen bazillion internet views.

Which is a story better told elsewhere.

~ ~ ~

~2~

Lisette blinks, blushes, shuffles her feet, perspires, blinks again.

"You ARE Lisette Emerson, right?" Joel says. "Or am I about to be VERY embarrassed?" Those twinkly eyes get twinklier. "When I heard you're here I made it a point to meet you."

Lisette knows she's coming off as a total fan-girl (she is a total fan-girl, but she doesn't want to come off that way), but c'mon - she thinks - this is Joel Fenimore. THE Joel Fenimore. Joel Fenimore HERSELF! And unless I'm out of my mind, Joel Fenimore _herself_ is coming on to me. Me.

Lisette's almost struck speechless. Almost. "Me? You wanted to meet ME?"

Joel arches her eyebrows. "Yes YOU." She shows the tip of her tongue in the corner of her mouth. Her hand gets warmer and her squeeze gets tighter. Lisette's nipples get firmer and her bottom gets wetter. When she wiggles to unstick herself down there...

"That *fascinating* scent!"

Joel gently pokes Lisette's navel. That makes her feel like she's glowing, like her skin is all shiny. Joel might as well be squeezing my Bartholin's glands, she's thinking, and looks down half-expecting to see her trousers soaked.

Lisette's amazed. Half an hour ago she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her (or at least open up and vent a bunch of methane and sulfur dioxide so there'd be something to blame it on). Now she's got her weight on one foot and is playing all farty-flirty.

Lisette leans in close and whispers: "I'm not always this gassy you know."

"That's not the only thing I like about you," Joel whispers back. They accidentally-on-purpose brush noses. They listen to each other breathing.

Suddenly from somewhere and everywhere

OH *GOOD*!

and Dana appears from nowhere.

"So you two have met!"

Lisette's backside erupts.

"...and you're in on Our Little Secret!"

~3~

"Hi Joel!" Dana chirps.

Lisette lets go of Joel's hand, takes a step back, says:

"Wait. You two know each other?"

"Hello again Lisette!" Dana ignores the question and slides around from behind. "I was going to introduce you two, and Fate's done it for me! This is great!"

Lisette blinks. Dana winks, says: "I was telling Joel all about you!"

After a sniff and a smile, Dana says: "Joel's doing one of those 'visiting scholar' things this semester. At the uni. Upstate." Lisette shoots Joel a look. Dana goes on: "Part of that's chatting up Culture Vulture organizations like the Guild here..."

Lisette's brain starts shifting gears.

"...Joel's putting up at my place this weekend, on account of..." Dana looks in the middle distance and waves a hand around. "On account of all this."

Lisette's clutch coupling connects: She remembers Dana checking the little pocket watch. She remembers "name on the guest list", she remembers "party tasks", she remembers "donor reception", she remembers "get to know you better". The penny drops. Lisette _gets_ it:

Joel's here to speak to *donors*. Which means that Dana is... Shit. Which means that Dana is... Now Lisette remembers why she recognized Dana's name: She's seen it before - in a girly font - right above a no-nonsense blocktype "Director of Planned Giving & Stewardship."

Shit, Lisette says to herself. Shit. Dana's a goddam FUNDRAISER.

Lisette's fantasy balloon deflates like her evacuated colon. Her glowy skin gets sticky, her breasts achy and blobby, her clit chafed, her underpants soggy and clammy. How had her BS-detector not gone off? How did she not see this coming? What the heck is wrong with her?

Yeah yeah yeah, she tries to excuse herself: horny plus randy plus hormone-y plus gland-y plus cute plus cuter-with-a-little-hair-flip equals stupid. Math is hard!

Lisette gathers herself, regains her poise. She says: "Oh. I see. You're putting the arm on me for..." She pauses, then clips off: "For a _planned_ _gift_."

"Omigodnono!" Dana turns pink and starts jibbering. "Noooo, that's not it! I... Well, yeah I want to put an arm on you but..." For a PR person, Lisette thinks, Dana sure gets flustered easily. "Not..."

Joel makes shushing noises at Dana, turns to Lisette: "I'm just trying to convince you to seduce me!"

After a burst of silence, Dana gets a second wind: "Yes! I want to put an arm on you." A grin. "And my hands. And my mouth." A bite in the corner of the lower lip, light glinting off those big specs. "Etc., etc., etc., you get the idea."

Lisette's on firmer ground now, now that people are saying what they mean. She steps closer to them. "Go on," she says. "Don't stop now."

~4~

Joel's peering around, as if she just noticed the Art Thing hovering over them. She starts speaking in mid-thought: "...get out of here right now if it were up to me. Call the car round, we'd all three sneak out of here..."

She spots Lisette's empty glass, picks it up: "...open some champagne, sit in each others laps..." Joel pauses, smiling. "...make out for a while..." Looking off in the middle distance, she keeps her next thoughts secret, her own little secret. Then she smiles and quotes Dana: "Etc. etc. etc., you get the idea."

"Yes I do," Lisette says. "I do get the idea." Now Lisette's the mimic, doing Joel's thing with the arched eyebrows and tip of her tongue in the corner of her mouth.

"However..." It's Dana's voice, now all administrator-y-ish. "The reality of the situation, the fact of the matter is..."

Lisette feels a cramp and a twinge, and these feel different. Those last bursts of gas carried a message, announcing an upcoming event. She shifts her weight.

"...we can't just ditch," Dana says. "But what do you say we get together tomorrow?" Now Dana does the eyebrow thing - all sexy from behind those big glasses. "Come over to my place. We'll discuss mutual interests."

"My _chaperone_ is right," Joel says. Dana's looking at that little pocketwatch again. "It's almost time for my closeup with Mr. DeMille." Joel turns to Lisette: "And you look like you've got someplace to be, too."

Aside to Dana, Joel stage-whispers: "I've been watching her fidget. I think she needs to get home and poop!"

Dana tugs at Joel's sleeve. "Let's all hold that thought 'til tomorrow, shall we?"

Joel tugs back. "Oh pretty boy don't be jealous. She's got the hots for you too!" Joel and Dana do a back-and-forth thing on their way to the main room. Joel waves goodbye and says:

"We'll pick up right where we left off!"

~5~

Lisette slips out of the party and - here's a bit of luck - the streetcar's pulling up right as she gets to the stop. She zips aboard and clinks her fare in the box.

It's after the locals-get-home-from-work rush and before the tourists-go-to-dinner rush, so there's a lot of space. She slides next to an open window (just in case) and takes a breath of the familiar scent of creosote and ozone.

It's dark now, and she looks out at nothing in particular. She listens to the crickets chitter and the electric pops of the power line & the screechy metal wheels & the creaky wood of the antique box that's rattling her home. She likes the car's rhythmic rocking, she likes the full-feeling she has inside, she likes that gentle, pressing urge.

Her mind wanders to Dana and Joel, to what happened tonight, to what might happen tomorrow. Lisette completely loses track of where she is.

Another bit of luck is that someone's getting off at Lisette's stop. Without the buzz of the next-stop signal to jolt her, there's no telling when she'd have surfaced from that fantasy.

~6~

Lisette's bathroom is a big space with a high ceiling, but it's snug and comfy and quiet and serene, all gentle curves and girly pastels and indirect light.

She perches herself and settles, feeling the cool seat on her butt cheeks. She flips her ponytail in front and runs her fingers along and through it. She takes a deep breath, starts a long exhale and starts feeling that endorphin rush.

Apart from coming and sneezing, Lisette decides, there's not too many things that feel this good - she takes a sniff - though this is generally a more private thing, isn't it? Then Lisette thinks about her evening. Then she starts re-thinking.

Her satisfying solo ends and she performs the coda (a final pee-squirt, a couple front-to-backs, a floop of TP hitting water, a flush, a bidet splash), thinking about the playmates she met tonight.

She passes into the bedroom, slides naked under a cool sheet.

That's one urge un-urged, she thinks. And since I don't have to sneeze...

***

** Every character in this story is well above the legal age to do what they are described doing. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental. **