Love Won't Die

The lady who endowed it, and anonymously, was local and rich, but not like those who endowed ongoing scholarships in the large universities, or new wings of a hospital. Ms. Withers told me that there were a whole host of scholarships all over our country, and set up to accommodate the peculiar wishes of the donors. I was meeting all of the wishes of this anonymous donor to the letter. That was pure luck, but then again, it was what got me into college, but she had never told me about the rest since she had no idea I would do so well in my studies, my grades, actually.

Cerise majored in business with a minor in psychology; that last gave us a class together, but after that, we had no classes together at all until we graduated. When either of us was in class, the other of us would be in the library. There were gym rats, so I guess we were book rats.

Throughout our time together, as we loved, and many times while I tried to sleep, the barrage of indictments from the preacher continued, as well as his devils—I did begin to think of them as being his devils, so I guess that made him the devil for he did bedevil me constantly. Cerise, as always, gave me loving sympathy and didn't seem to mind when I had to leave her bed.

Cerise: her person enchanted and enthralled me as did her face, her body, and not just her pussy, ass, tits or legs though I could leave neither alone, then again, she couldn't leave me alone either. It was to where I couldn't imagine living without her, but a part of me that I kept locked away knew that soon she would be leaving me. I had grown expert at locking things away, to keep them hidden inside of me as if they didn't exist.

However, they did exist, and when we graduated, I knew that our time was short. She was going for an MBA though, but that wouldn't take her long, not the way she studied and retained things. Graduation did afford me more information about her though. Her parents attended the ceremonies, and she introduced me to them. He was tall and handsome in a very stiff way, and with a full head of hair that was graying in a very fashionable way.

Her mother was as Cerise—almost utterly beautiful, but aloof and quite cool, though she went through her social paces with practiced grace. They took us out to dinner, then said goodbye. Afterward, when I looked at Cerise, I saw the first glimmer of sadness on her face. Alone at home, she opened up.

"I haven't wanted to tell you anything about myself, and that was selfish of me."

"Me too. Uh, I haven't been a paragon of personal information either."

She smiled, sad though it still looked. "No, you hadn't, but having you was enough, but now I do need to tell you how things are with me apart from you."

With that, she began.

"Undoubtedly you saw my parents as they always are: very much within themselves, exuding no warmth, and looking very successful, which they both are, financially, that is. They've always been that way. Naturally I have no idea how they reacted to me as a baby, but as you saw them, that's how they always were as I grew up. They've always been so formal, and that's how they raised me: quietly, but precisely. Go to ballet, play the piano with regularity, as well as the violin, and study. Did they ever kiss me? My mother did each and every night as she saw me in my bed—my nanny saw to me otherwise, and she was prim and proper too. My parents would have her to be no other way, and she didn't disappoint them.

"Why they didn't send me to one of the major universities, I don't know; I can only guess that they wanted me to know what it was like to be at a small college and town, but again, why, I don't know. It's not a stretch for you to imagine that I'm very well trained to do as they wish, and that's in me, and I know it. However the one thing they never saw in me in any way were my fantasies, and definitely not that I knew early on that I was more than attracted to women.

"Though my mother is as beautiful as can be, her manner repelled me. That is, I wanted a woman who was very much in touch with herself and everything around her, but was intelligent. When I saw you, it was Kismet. My fantasy knew no other; my trained self approached you as my trained self might. But Polly, you opened up my fantasies as I never thought they'd ever be. You made me feel alive, warm, and yes, hot—sexually—for you in a way that has kept me as a person growing up in her fantasies.

"What I'm saying is that when our time here is ended, I'll have to go home. I've not been able to find a way to break that in me, and I've tried and tried, and it's breaking my heart," she said as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

I wiped them, kissed her eyes, and held her. She was suffering too much, and I knew it, knew the power of her words, the grip she was telling me that held her apart from me and the college.

"Can you make love to me, Polly? Now, I mean," she sniffled with words quieter than usual.

"Always, Cerise, always," I said, and led her to our bed.

We would have time without worry to do anything else but love each other, and I began right then, and did so as tenderly as I never had. It was as if I had to kiss every cell of her body, even her feet and toes. As I kissed her, I was acutely aware of her person, and the peculiar look and color of her body and felt an etherealness about her that I hadn't been aware of before: she was more than angelic, more than a vastly desirable sexual person. She was more than exquisite in every manner, shape, and form, and I loved her for a long, long time.

She gave herself over to knowing the joy I had in making love to her, and I sensed that she had several orgasms before I licked her pussy and took her clitoris. I was long in licking all the love that had poured out of her. I took my time cleaning each lip with my tongue, then helping myself to what clung to the inside walls before stroking her with loving tongue from bottom to top, and finally taking her mound and clitoris.

As I did so, I was beginning to try to admit that I had been falling deeply in love with her from near to the time we met. Maybe it was because she had circumspectly told me that she'd be leaving me when the last degree was in hand. As I'd said, I was expert at locking things up within myself, and I locked this up too, blinding even myself from seeing and dwelling on it. It was enough to dwell on what she did, and would still give me, a joy that would be with me forever.

After she'd had a last, and extraordinary orgasm, she fell asleep. Slowly, as I had often done, but now more so, I softly kissed up her body, feeling that aching tenderness that was ripping my soul. Kissing her face, including her sleeping eyes, I gently pulled her atop of me, her face at my breast where she had so often loved to be, and cried soft tears, the first I could remember. Still I wouldn't let myself dwell on the reason for my tears, but simply held her, knew her person and her warmth, and caressed her promoting her peaceful sleep.

* * * *

No, I never did open up to her about myself, and she didn't ask me to; she was preoccupied with what she had to do. As I came to realize, what she was doing, other than working towards her degrees, was fulfilling her fantasies, and with each passing minute of our time together, she was doing that. It never lessened my desire for her, in fact, it made me want to do all I could to make her fantasy desires a reality. Our love making took on major proportions of tenderness, need, and expressing with our hands and bodies with unspoken sensing of what we were to each other. Her pussy and those beautiful, sexy, open and giving lips were becoming a grotto of what we knew within us, and I worshiped therein quietly as I knew that she did too.

Still, it did come to an end. She had prepared everything for her leaving, including returning me and my belongings to my dorm. There was no hiding, no being circumspect. After all was in my room again, we held hands as we walked to her car. There, blessedly alone, we kissed a kiss of longing never to be known again. As we hugged, she spoke her final words.

"I know you have demons, my sweet Polly, and maybe many more than I have. I've often wished I could have taken them from you. As best I could, though, I tried to let you know how much I love you. Yes, I know I've never spoken those words to you, but they were always in my heart just as I know you'll always be in my heart. I do love you as I'll never love another. Not ever! You've been much too beautiful to me. Goodbye, my only love," she said as tears streamed quietly down her face.

I started to say something, to let her know that I did love her, but she put a finger to my lips.

"No. Please don't say it. I don't think I could bear to hear you say it. Please, Polly, just take my love as I have always taken yours. Now let me go," she said.

Much too quickly, she was in her car and driving away. I knew she was still crying.

* * * *

My heart heavy with the loss of Cerise, I held it in until I tried to sleep. I had my room to myself, so I let it come and cried quietly for the longest time. At last I fell asleep, but those demons that Cerise knew I had came again, this time laughing at me, taunting, and whispering of my eternal damnation for my perfidy. Not long into it, I woke up shaking, the sweat starting, and I sorrowed in my confusion, and at the loss of Cerise.

That strange ability I had developed served me well though. Once more I blocked everything out, including conscious thoughts of Cerise and how we had loved those many times. Burying myself in my studies, I wound up with a Masters in sociology, and a minor in psychology in counseling. And I had several offers.

"You've done superbly, Polly," Ms. Withers, my counselor said. "I know you have some offers, but there's another one for your consideration. The college would like for you to stay and be an assistant professor, and possibly work toward a PhD. The money won't be near as much as the business world offers, but it is there if you prefer it. What do you think?"

"That's interesting. I do love being here, so I guess I should consider all possibilities."

"Would you like some advice?" she asked.

"Please," I nodded.

"You may be able to return here later if you take one of those other offers and then decide that you'd prefer to be here. I can't guarantee that, but as far as I can determine, that's a strong possibility."

The bonus money was too great to pass up. I took the best offer afforded me, and left with Ms. Withers' blessing.

Chapter 7

Taking the signing bonus and finding an apartment, as well as buying a good used and practical car, I went shopping for some presentable business outfits. My pay was more than I had dreamed of having, but I was very much into being careful with it. I called home and spoke to my mother, and told her I would be sending money soon, and more than they had given me, which gratefully I didn't have too great a need for.

At work, I was introduced to Ms. Miriam Marshak who looked me up and down, either professionally or personally, or perhaps as a competitor. She was as tall as I was, was finely dressed, had marvelous legs as well as the rest of her figure, and was somewhere in her late thirties or early forties I thought. Her hair was salon cut, mildly colored, and mostly blonde. Her face was well sculpted, and a little long-ish, but nicely so. And she was a bit stuffy, or prim, or whatever.

"Thank you, Ms. Marshak," I said early on.

"Miriam, please. No formality with me," she said, trying to act as friendly as she could.

Miriam showed me around, introduced me to many others, and so my work day began. It was a different position, Human Resources with me as their new advisor on individuals, both prospective and already in place.

As I slowly melded myself into the rhythm of the offices, I found I had a secretary that appeared to be invaluable. Casey was in her late twenties, cute, and immediately friendly, and she was genuine as they come.

"I think you'll like it here. Miriam, she's not so bad, just a little stuffy. Kinda nice though," she clued me in on her, and a few others. I liked Casey instantly.

Later, being single herself, she took the time to help me acclimate to the city, offering to show me around. That was a kindness I wouldn't forget, unusual as it probably was. No one else had volunteered anything like that, so it was greatly appreciated.

"You have a good secretary," Miriam told me. "I think you'll find that you can rely on her."

A few days later, I heard some guys mouth "MmMm," as Miriam passed by. She was a good looking woman. Later Casey told me it was their name for her save to her face.

In time, I had sent a check for a few thousand dollars to my mother, then called her and told her that if she needed more, I'd try to help out if possible. She assured me that it was more than enough for now, and thanked me. She also advised me that she'd heard that Kayla was married and expecting a child soon. That brought back some good memories, plus a hope that she was happy. I also returned the five hundred dollars Brother James had given to me along with a nice note, and telling him a few other minor details of where I was, and where I was working. He answered back, told me it wasn't necessary, that it truly was a bonus, but thanked me anyway.

There were no more dreams, at least for a while, I thought, and did hope they'd never return, but somehow I knew better. I needed female companionship, but not necessarily the sex, though I'd welcome Cerise back in my life in every way possible. She was forever in my thoughts and in my heart. Other females didn't materialize for a while.

When I was there for nearly a year, I began to wonder about living in something other than an apartment. The neighbors were good so far, but I didn't care for apartment living. More than that, I did need some females around me that I didn't have to worry about knowing that I was a lesbian even if I wasn't an active one. That's when I heard about The Honey Lounge. It was in a neighboring town, so I took the time to go there one Friday evening. That's where I met Alba.

* * * *

The cover charge wasn't outrageous, the place was big, and already well attended and raucous. There was a very eclectic mix of ages and races, and blessedly all female, some of them dancing to the music that was provided, but not by a band.

I took a nearby seat at the bar, was welcomed, and ordered a glass of red wine.

"That's different," the bartender said. "If it's wine, it's usually white. Personally, I agree. Enjoy, and when you're ready, raise your glass. I'm Bess, and you're on my end so I'll be serving you."

I thanked her as she shuffled off to take another's order. Shortly after that, a few looks being cast my way, another female made a beeline for me.

"Hi. I'm Alba, and no, I'm not her to hit on you. I think you're new here. First time?" she asked.

I nodded. "Hi, Alba, I'm Polly."

"Look, hon, like I said, I'm not here to hit on you, just passing a word or two about the place. It's a great place for us gals, but watch out for the Butches. They're like any other group of people; that is, there's all kinds, some really bossy and aggressive, some even worse. If they think they can get their mitts on a luscious piece like you, they won't let up and can be mean too. Now the femmes, they're sort of the same, that is, all kinds, and some deliciously so, but a few are kind of clingy, but manageable I think."

"And now that you've given me that intro to this club, what are you, the official greeter, part owner, or what?" I asked with a pleasant smile on my face.

Alba, as I mentioned earlier, someone would be lucky if they could snag her on a permanent basis. However, that wasn't to be me, Cerise still much on my mind and in my heart.

"Nope, none of those, just someone interested in making sure as best I can that you come back. You dress up the place nicely. You know, you're sure to be noticed as a hottie, and I mean fast as I leave here if not sooner, so I don't want you scared off it one of those Neanderthal butches hits on you too hard, and believe you me, they'll try you out and soon."

"I guess you speak from experience since you'd be considered a hottie too, huh?"

My grin nearly undid her.

"Hey, girl, I like you. You're okay, and quick too. Yeah, I've been hit on a time or two, but I've been here long enough that they know I'm unimpressed. The cute femmes do it for me. How about you?"

"None of the above. I'm just here for the atmosphere."

"A curious one? Is that what you are?"

"A what?" I asked, the question unfamiliar to me.

"You know, some women, often married, like to think about having their pussy know what it's like to be a lesbian, some for the thrill of it, some just slumming. Some butches like them, but most of them aren't popular."

"Ah, no, I'm strictly a female loving female; and not married either. As i said, I'm just here for the atmosphere. Kind of like a place where I can breathe freely."

"Oops! Lost love, huh?" she perceptively guessed. I just smiled. "Okay, play it close, honey. That's always a good bet."

Before I knew it, we'd been talking for a while and were getting comfortable with each other but then Alba started out comfortable. Then one of what I thought must be a butch strolled our way.

"Oh, no, like I said, they're gonna come," she said with a huge grin.

"Alba, you gonna hog this gorgeous thing all to yourself and not introduce her to your best friend? Shame on you."

Alba was laughing. "Honey, this is one of those I was warning you about. She thinks that she can, uh," she pointedly turned her attention to the overly big breasts of the new girl, "have anyone any time. Hmm, sometimes maybe she can."

"That's the last time you get any comforting," she sniffed at Alba.

"This here's Reba, so watch out and don't let her bamboozle you."

"Okay, never mind the funny stuff. At least she introduced one of us."

I couldn't help grinning at their antics. "Hi, Reba, I'm Polly."

"Glad you stopped in despite all the falsehoods this cretin probably was feeding you. Do you dance?"

"Some, not much. Bad upbringing."

"That's okay, we can do a slow one anytime. Now since this reprobate saw you first, I'll let her be till you learn not to listen to her," Reba said, smiling and mussing Alba's hair.

She left and Alba was still grinning. "She's good. Funny and fun too. A little on the big side, but it works for her," she said looking at her own breasts as if to make sure I knew what she was talking about.

Alba was what I needed. I'd never met anyone like her; then again, I hadn't met anyone like Reba either, or for that matter, any other lesbians save Kayla and Cerise. Maybe it was time my world expanded though I'd just as soon it had stayed as it was with Cerise.

* * * *

There was a near instant feeling of kinship with Alba that had me returning on the following Friday evening. It was as if I could tell her anything, she made me feel so loose and free, but of course, I didn't tell her much, at least not at first. It did turn out that she was a psychologist, but wasn't practicing it in any way.

After a few of months of searching as best I could for a new place to live, I did tell Alba that I was looking.

"Honey, do we get along real good? I mean, I feel good when I'm around you, and we talk so easily together. What I'm saying is that maybe you can move in with me. I own my house—me and the mortgage company, that is—and there's another bedroom. Okay, on occasion I have a girl over—one can't resist all of these cute femmes you know—but maybe we can work something out. Wanna have a look and see what you think?"

She was more than right. We'd gone shopping for clothes when she spotted a good sale, went to a couple of movies, and even had dinner out together. We'd seriously become good friends. In fact, I thought about how we were with each other, and couldn't remember ever having a real friend, excluding Kayla, of course, and certainly not one like Alba, and totally platonic too.