Shane and Carmen: The Novelization Ch. 19

On Wednesday Lacey showed up at Lather just as Shane was finishing the last customer of the day. When Shane saw her sitting in the lobby, Lacey waved hello. When Shane's customer finished and Shane came to the lobby, Lacey asked if Shane wanted to go get a drink or something.

"Uh, sure," Shane said. They got a bite and then went back to Lacey's apartment. They made love in the small living room, in the tiny bedroom, in the tiny shower, and watched TV until midnight, when Shane went home. She assumed yadda yadda, she was wrong, yadda yadda.

The next night Lacey found Shane at Milk. Shane had a girl hanging on her, kissing Shane. Lacey watched as Shane went out the door with the girl, their hands all over each other. She followed them outside, saw Shane and the girl kissing in the parking lot, and watched them get into Shane's truck and drive away.

On Saturday Shane, Alice and Dana decided to go to a new club that had just opened in Venice Beach. They got there a little after nine, and three minutes later Lacey arrived. The minute Shane saw her she flashed on the insight that there was no way this was a coincidence, that Lacey had been surveilling Shane and had followed them.

"Oh, fuck," Shane muttered to Alice. "Code Red, Code Red!"

"Huh?" Alice asked, turning to see what the problem was and seeing this cute, round-faced Goth blond with the spikey hair come up to them.

"Hey, Shane!" Lacey said. "Boy, what a coincidence running into you here! I was hoping maybe I'd run into you tonight."

"Hi, Lacey," Shane said warily. "Lace, these are my friends Alice Pieszecki and Dana Fairbanks. Guys, this is Lacey ... Haskell."

"Driscoll," Lacey said.

"Right, Driscoll, I'm sorry. What's up, Lace? Hey, listen, we just stopped in for a minute to check this place out, but we're heading out, we've got to go to this reception." Without Lacey seeing, Shane prodded Alice in the ribs to help her out.

"Oh, yeah, it's this tennis thing. Dana --" she point to Dana, who was standing a few feet away not paying attention -- "she's a professional tennis player. Maybe you've heard of her? Anyway, she's got to go to this tennis fundraiser thing, and she's gonna sneak us in because Martina and Billie Jean are gonna be there."

"Can I come along?" Lacey asked.

"Uh, er, see--" Shane started, but Alice dove in.

"Gee, I'm afraid not," she told Lacey. "It's like a hundred dollars a ticket, because it's a fundraiser thing, and we've already paid, you know?"

"Oh," Lacey said, her face falling, and for a second Shane felt sorry for her.

Alice grabbed Shane's arm and dragged her off to find Dana. "C'mon, Shane," she said over her shoulder, "we better get Dana before she's late. Bye, Lacey, it was nice meeting you."

When they got outside with Dana, Alice said to Shane, "Okay, you owe me big time."

"I know I do," Shane said. "Thanks for the rescue."

"What's going on?" Dana asked, perplexed.

"Shane's got a love stalker," Alice said.

***

The phone calls started the next day, and Shane had to turn her cell phone off. Things were quiet for two days, and then the friends discovered Lacey was going up and down the neighborhood all around The Planet handing out flyers that had Shane's picture on them. Lacey was warning everyone to stay away from Shane the lesbian seducer, the love 'em-and-leave 'em dyke. It got ugly and embarrassing, with Lacey telling people Shane was a 4-Fer, find 'em, feel 'em, fuck 'em, and forget 'em.

That was Shane's last straw. She went looking for Lacey and found her down a few blocks, handing out flyers in front of a cafe.

Lacey didn't see Shane coming until Shane stopped a few feet behind her. She stood watching Lacey for a moment, and then Lacey turned around and saw her.

"So what do you think?" Lacey asked, holding up a flyer for Shane to see. Under Shane's photo in large letters was the word "User." Shane didn't bother looking at it. "I told you I was a PhotoShop expert."

Shane just looked sadly at Lacey for a moment. "Lace, what are you doing?"

"Whatever I feel like," Lacey said. "Isn't that what you do?" She handed a flyer to a man walking by.

"All right. Enough. C'mon." Gently, Shane put her arm around Lacey and drew her out of the traffic flow and under the awning of the cafe. "I think we have a big misunderstanding. I mean, you and me, we had a really great time together, but —"

"I know," Lacey interrupted, "that's why I don't understand what happened."

"Babe, nothing happened. Okay? It's just about having a good time and enjoying each other's company."

"I know, but then you went off with the other girl."

"Yeah. I don't see what the problem is with that." Lacey didn't seem to comprehend. "Look, Lace, you're beautiful. And I like you a lot. But ... I like a lot of people."

"What does she have that I don't have?"

"Nothing. It's not about having something or not having something."

"Did you like fucking her better than me?" She meant the girl Shane had left Milk with.

Shane hesitated. "No."

"Because I really liked fucking you."

"Yeah, I liked fucking you, too, Lace."

"So then, what's the problem?"

Shane hesitated again. She knew what the problem was, had always been. "I don't do relationships."

"I'm not asking for a relationship," Lacey said, looking away, because that was exactly what she was looking for. It wasn't a lie exactly ... it was just ... what? A tear ran down her cheek and she sniffled.

"Wait — don't ... hey, don't cry," Shane said.

"I am not crying."

"Yes, you are ... I hate it when girls cry, all right? C'mere." Shane really did hate it when girls cried ... but she was a softy. Instead of running away, it was Shane's nature to comfort. She pulled Lacey into a gentle embrace, rocking her slowly.

"I just really like you, is all," Lacey whispered, sniffling again.

"Yeah, I like you, too. I do."

"I guess I got carried away with the posters and fliers and ... the banner."

Shane pushed Lacey out of the embrace and looked her in the face. "You made banners?"

"Just one. But they wouldn't let me hang it at Girl Bar."

Shane shook her head and laughed quietly. "Honey, you have a lot of feelings."

"I know, but then you went off with the other girl!" Lacey started crying again.

"No, no, no, shhh," Shane whispered, embracing the poor girl again. What a fucking mess. "Don't, please, don't, don't. Forget about it, okay? Don't even think about that."

"I don't want a relationship with you, I just want to be with you all the time," Lacey said, as though that made perfect sense. Shane froze, working on it. Then Lacey caught on. "Oh, hey, oh ... Oh, I am so dumb. I am always doing this. I just want to know why everybody always abandons me."

"No one's abandoning you," Shane said.

"Everybody leaves," Lacey said. "My father left when I was five. My mom died. My sister ... ."

"What happened with your sister?"

"She moved to West Covina."

Shane sighed. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm not going anywhere." After a moment they separated, Shane looking into Lacey's tear-stained face. "Okay?"

"Okay. Yeah."

"All right?"

Lacey nodded.

"We gonna stop with the flyers and the banners and stopping people in the street?"

Lacey nodded. "Would you do one thing for me?"

"What?"

"Come back with me to my place, make love to me one last time? Go down on me, please? I loved that so much when you did that to me."

"If I go down on you, will you stop all this?"

Lacey nodded.

"Promise? And one other thing. Would you see somebody, get some professional help? A shrink, a therapist, somebody to help you out with your feelings."

But Lacey was so happy with the thought of another round of cunnilingus from the best pussylicker she'd ever met that she'd agree to anything. "Yes, okay, I will."

"We have a deal?"

Lacey nodded, smiling and wiping her face. She was gonna get her pussy sucked by Shane! She was so happy.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

***

Was ever going down so bittersweet? Shane had every right to be angry and resentful that she was being extorted into having sex. (Even she saw the irony.) Yet it was not in her nature to be angry. Shane was by nature too sweet and too gentle and easy-going to stay mad for long, and she hadn't been very angry at Lacey to begin with, just disappointed. Shane truly liked Lacey. She recognized a woman who had been damaged and hurt, not unlike herself, and who therefore had earned a bit of slack. She reminded Shane of an exuberant young puppy with too much energy and too much need for affection and attention; she was also a young puppy with an injured paw. How could Shane not be sympathetic?

Shane sat on the edge of a chair by the open window in Lacey's small bedroom, smoking a cigarette and staring out into the night. She heard a police siren off in the distance. The only light in the room came from a candle Lacey had lit; she must have thought it romantic.

Lacey lay in her bed, loosely wrapped in a sheet, with her head propped up on one elbow as she studied Shane's silhouette. She had come three times, but that was misleading. The first one came quickly, as she'd expected. She'd had her pants off before she'd gotten as far as her bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed as Shane knelt in front of her and got the first one out of the way, per agreement. Then, both naked up on the bed, slowly, skillfully Shane set about number two. She liked Lacey, she really did, and thought she was cute and fun, but when it came to high maintenance she was an 11. Shane wished her well, and was sorry about all those issues Lacey had fucking up inside her head, and she knew there was nothing she could do about any of it. Not only didn't she do relationships, she didn't do psychotherapy, either, despite her skills as a listener.

Lacey's third orgasm had been gentle and tender and even in its own way spiritual. It was an antidote to the second one, the one that rocked them both to the core, not because it was so good -- which it was; it was spectacular -- but because it broke Lacey.

"Oh, God, I never came that fast before," Lacey said, flopping back on her bed after the first one. It was an apology, because Lacey was hoping this One-Last-Time Cum would be a good one, not some lame, five-minute, pissant little quivverer hardly worth the name. Shane, too, getting up off her knees and removing her clothes, also knew that first one hadn't lived up to expectations, that as cums went it was a piss-poor representive of the Sapphic arts. It wasn't that she felt she "owed" Lacey a better cum; she didn't "owe" Lacey anything at all, and after all, a climax doesn't come with a warranty, it just cums. But Shane had pride in her love-making skills, and knew that what Lacey had just experienced wouldn't cut it.

When she was naked she climbed on the bed and straddled this poor, confused, wounded girl, gently unbuttoning her shirt and helping her remove it, then having Lacey sit up so Shane could unfasten her bra. When that was gone, Shane got up and pulled Lacey's sneakers off, then her jeans, which had been bunched at her ankles, and her panties, which were -- no surprise -- lacey. Then she climbed back up and straddled Lacey again.

"I'm sorry," Lacey whispered.

"I know," Shane said. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. I'm going to make love to you again, and this one's gonna be really good, okay? Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes," Lacey said. "Yes, I would. Thank you."

Shane kissed her neck, her throat, slowly, gently, setting a slow rhythm she wanted to use to settle Lacey down, get her to relax, loosen up.

"I love your breasts," Shane murmured as she began to kiss and lick them. Lacey's nipples were pale and pink, almost as light as her skin color, and conical. As Shane kissed and licked them, sucking them into her mouth, they got puffy and swollen, changing shape, mushrooming out. They sat atop nice handfuls of breast meat with a small separation between them that Shane found nice to bury her face in.

"I love your nipples," Lacey said, returning the complement but doing so truthfully. She really was mesmerized by Shane's nipples, as was most of lesbian Southern California. "May I suck them?"

Shane grinned, and moved upward, letting her left breast slide between Lacey's open lips. Lacey suckled and licked and nipped with her teeth until she was satisfied, and then Shane slipped down on the bed between Lacey's pleasantly plump thighs. She wanted to do a really, really good job on this orgasm. Shane believed -- perhaps naively, for it is possible to mouth-love nine hundred women's pussies without knowing what was going on in their minds, and there was a certain naivety in Shane's nature anyway -- that if she gave Lacey this one last terrific, earth-moving cum, that would be the end of their involvement. So she took her time, worked slowly, stayed away from Lacey's clit until the last possible moment, caressing Lacey's hips and thighs, nibbling, flirting with her perineum, spreading wide the rather petite twat that had such a large appetite, licked and tongue-probed, until Lacey was mewling like a newborn kitten. Time to kick it up a notch, swing into the grand finale as the music swells. She inserted two long wet fingers into Lacey's pussy, pads up and searching for the turgid walnut G-spot as she blew breaths on her clit and then slowly engulfed the clit hood and clit in her mouth, her tongue probing the slick little ball bearing of climax as Lacey went off. She arched her back and lifted her ass off the bed, her body a rainbow with Shane nursing its golden arch, following her up, clenched between the quivering thighs.

"Teri, omigod, Teri!" Lacey yelled out. "Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm coming, Teri! Ahhhhhhhhhh."

And she did, wonderfully. Shane's thigh-imprisoned face seldom had such a ride, her cheeks, nose, mouth, chin washed with pussy nectar, delivered in little wet surges and pumps that kept pace with the rapid pulsing of a human heart. When Lacey finally lowered her hips back to the bed Shane was able to slip free. And the next thing she knew Lacey was grabbing her, clutching her and sobbing her heart out. "Why did she leave me? Oh, Shane! I want her back so much!" Racked sobbing. "Teriiiiiiiiiiii," she wailed. "Teriiiiiiiiiiii."

Shane held her and rocked her, thinking, Jesus Christ, what have I done?

Lacey sobbed and babbled, mixing heartbroken wails of grief with sentence fragments Shane could barely piece together. "She ... she ... oh, Shane, I loved her ... oh... sob ... I didn't ... she, she... why? oh God, why ... I can't ... she ... boo-hoo ... when ... and then she ... she said always ... why? ... oh, Shane!"

Shane held on and rocked. There was nothing else she could do. She whispered, "It's all right, it's all right," and "Shhh, it's okay," and "Let it all out, Lacey, let it all come out." She understood that ever since her break-up with Teri Lacey had been so hurt and so angry she had never actually gotten around to completing the grieving. All that anger and humiliation and loss had been so strong it had bottled up. Lacey had transferred and twisted it onto Shane, making Shane both the lost love object as well as the scapegoat and outlet for her grief. It took thirty-five minutes for Lacey to calm down. Luckily for her, she was in good hands, so to speak, literally as well as metaphorically.

Shane sat on the bed with her back to the headboard; she cradled Lacey in her arms with the side of her face against Shane's chest, which was wet with Lacey's tears. Love, thought Shane. Sometimes it sneaks up behind you and bites you on the ass.

"I'm so sorry," Lacey finally said, sniffling.

"It's okay," Shane said. "It's okay."

"I miss her so much."

"I know you do."

"I took it out on you. I got mad and upset with you because I was mad at her."

"I know. It's okay. It happens."

"Thank you for being so understanding. I put you through hell."

"Don't sweat it. It wasn't so bad. And we got some good sex out of it."

Lacey laughed and sniffled, a bubble of snot coming from her nose that she wiped away, "Yeah, we did, didn't we? God, you are incredible. I wish I really was in love with you instead of her. But I loved her so much, and I still do. I can't help it."

"I know."

"But she sure fucked me up, didn't she? Wow. I'm a fucking mess."

Shane laughed. "Yeah, you're a mess. But you're a sweet, kind, gentle mess, and you were too good for her. It's her loss. She doesn't deserve to be loved by somebody as terrific as you. I'm sorry she couldn't see that."

"Thanks," Lacey said. After a while she said, "Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever had your heart broken?"

"No," Shane said. "I mean, yes. When I was nine years old. But not since then."

"You never loved anybody? Since you grew up? Since you've been a lesbian?"

"No."

"Oh." There was a long pause. "That's too bad."

"Yeah, I guess so," Shane said.

"It fucks you up," Lacey said. "It sure fucks you up."

"That's why I don't do it," Shane said.

"Maybe you have the right idea," Lacey said. "Love 'em and leave 'em."

"Find 'em, feel 'em, fuck 'em, forget 'em," Shane said.

"I'm sorry I wrote that about you," Lacey said.

"It's okay. It's kinda true."

"No," Lacey said. "No, that's not who you are. I can tell. You're better than that."

"Well, that's sweet," Shane said. "But I'm really not better than that."

"No, I'm right, and you're wrong. The last couple hours prove it."

Shane laughed. "If you say so."

After a while Lacey said, "If you want to go, it's okay. I'm okay now."

"Okay, I will. But first, one more thing. Get up, turn around."

"Why?"

"I'm going to do you one more time."

"The last time."

"No, the first time. This will be the first time for the new Lacey. The Lacey that made a breakthrough tonight. The Lacey who's going to go out and fall in love with somebody else, and forget Teri."

"Oh," Lacey said. "Wow."

She made Lacey kneel on the bed facing the headboard, her hands against the wall. Shane crawled down the bed and then slide up under her, her face under Lacey's tender, sore pussy that was not so sore that it couldn't handle one more very gentle, very loving cum.

***

Late on the morning of January 8, John, the manager at Lather, got a phone call from Cherie Jaffe herself. Something had come up at the very last second and the Jaffes had to go to a special dinner thing with the Governator himself at 6 p.m. Yes, yes, Cherie knew it was really short notice, but pleeze pleeze pleeze could they somehow shoehorn her in to see Shane no later than 3 p.m., re-arrange her schedule, do whatever it takes, Cherie would even pay for the client who got bumped off the schedule to have someone else do her hair, but Cherie just had to get in by 3 because they'd been to the Caymans and no one had TOUCHED her hair who had known what they were doing, can you imagine? So pleeze pleeze pleeze John pleeze?

John had difficulty controlling his face and keeping the smile off it and the laughter out of his tone of voice, but the truth was, he lived for moments like this, moments when he, manager of a hairdressing salon, held real Hollywood power in his fists. He closed his eyes, almost climaxing from the pleasure of it. He gathered himself up, found the tenor of concern in his voice that had made him a minor legend in the trade, and sighed deeply. He asked Cherie to hold a minute while he saw what he could do. He had the shop appointment book in front of him, and knew the day's schedule well. He didn't even have to look in it to know that Shane had a 20-minute break at 1:40, and that the 2 o'clock was someone he could easily shift to either Janice or Trudy, and if Cherie was paying for that one as well, it was a no-brainer. But you never tell a client that.