Shane and Carmen: The Novelization Ch. 26

"There's an all-night diner a mile or two south of here, on the 67, heading toward Cajon," the girl said. "I go right past it on the way home to San Diego."

"Cool," Carmen said. "So you want to come with me? Have a cup of coffee, maybe split a BLT or a burger or something?"

The girl looked at Carmen, dumbfounded.

"Okay, think it over," Carmen said, smiling and almost laughing at the girl's shock. "But don't go anywhere, don't leave. I gotta get back up on stage."

***

"So, what are you doing way out here on a Saturday night when there's so much more to do in San Diego?" Carmen asked, right after they'd ordered decafs and two BLTs. They sat facing each other in a booth toward the back. There were a dozen people in the diner, what you'd expect at 1:30 in the morning on a major highway on a Saturday night: some long-haul truck drivers, some kids on a date, a pack of reasonably well-behaved college guys giving them the eye.

The girl was shy, the quiet type, blushing madly, and she wouldn't look up.

"Why didn't you dance with anybody?" Carmen persisted, but quietly. "I saw one or two guys come over and ask you."

The girl played with her knife and fork. She shrugged.

"Not interested in guys?"

The girl blushed even more deeply and wouldn't look up.

"It's okay," Carmen said. "I'm not, either."

That got her attention, Carmen knew, because the girl's hands stopped playing with the silverware.

"My name's Carmen, by the way. We haven't been properly introduced."

"Robin McManus," she said, "and I know who you are. Carmen de la Pica Morales. DJ La Pica. I saw you DJ in a club in Hollywood a few months ago. Then I started following your Internet site."

"Oh, yeah? Cool. What were you doing in Hollywood?"

"A few friends of mine and I went up there for the weekend. We're all school teachers, elementary school. I teach third grade. We shared a big motel suite and went on the Universal Studio's tour. Stuff like that. Then Saturday night we were driving around looking for something fun, and we went past this club on Santa Monica Boulevard. There were a lot of people out front, and we could hear the music, so we decided to go in. The place was called The Planet."

Carmen laughed. "Oh, boy. Bet your pals were surprised."

"Yeah, they were. Not right away, because it took us a while to realize what kind of club it was. I mean, there were a few guys there, and so on, the bouncer at the door was a guy, and one of the bartenders, you know? And you were up on the stage DJing, and people were dancing and having a good time, and you were ... well ... ."

"I was what?"

The girl shrugged, and fell silent when the waitress brought their decafs, and then went away.

"I was what?"

"I thought you were ... ." Another shrug, and more silence.

"Cool? Fantastic? A space alien? A drag queen? Mel Gibson? Brain-damaged? A vampire? What?"

The girl laughed. "I thought you were fantastic," she finally said.

"So then what happened?"

Their sandwiches came.

"We stayed a little while and had a drink. Sandy says, 'O-M-G, did you see that? That girl just kissed that other girl!' So then we started looking around, wondering about what kind of place it was. Beth says, 'Yeah, I think this is a lezzie bar.' She said she'd been in one before."

"So were you guys all weirded out, being in a lesbian club?"

"No, not too much. It was kind of exciting. We school teachers lead such dull lives, I guess, it doesn't take much to get us all stirred up. We stayed a little while, and danced a little bit, and then finally Beth said she wanted to leave, go find another place, with guys. Straight guys, she meant. So we left."

"What about you?" Carmen asked. "Did you want to leave?" She took a bite out of her BLT, watching the girl, who took a long time to answer.

"No," she finally said. "No, I didn't."

"Your friends, they all like guys, don't they?"

"Yes. Sandy is married, and Pat's engaged. Beth is the one always on the prowl."

"And what about you?" Carmen asked quietly. "They don't know about you, do they?"

The girl was quiet, and only picked at her BLT. Finally she said, "No. Nobody knows about me."

"But I do," Carmen said. "You want more coffee?"

"I'm fine."

"So what brings you so far from home on a Saturday night?"

The girl twisted her napkin. "My older sister lives in Cajon. She's married to a pilot. I was at their house five or six weeks ago, babysitting my niece. She's two years old. Karen and Chuck were going to some event at the Officer's Club, and I volunteered to watch Jasmine, that's my niece, to save them some money, because they were going to be out all night. So I was reading the local newspaper and I saw this big ad for the hotel, here, describing the new dance night thing, and it said there was going to be this really hot DJ from LA, named La Pica, and I knew immediately that was you, because I remembered your name from the club in Hollywood. The ad said you had a Web site, djlapica dot com. I looked it up to make sure it was you, there were photos of you DJing, and it had a schedule of where you were going to appear. I've been following you on the Web. So I decided to come, you know. See you again."

"Wow! My own cyberstalker! My first groupie! And I'm really glad you did come. But you kept leaving early, last week and before, before the dance was over."

"It's a long drive home."

"I guess so. But I have a suggestion."

"What's that?"

"Come back to the hotel with me. Spend the night. My room has two double beds. It's way too late for you to be driving all that way. It'll be fun. We'll have a pajama party."

Carmen watched as the girl blushed furiously again. Carmen knew, even before she said it, that she was taking huge risks, pushing things way too fast, and that this girl, in particular, needed to be handled slowly and carefully. But Carmen also knew there was no time to do that. This was a one-shot, now-or-never encounter. She didn't have the weeks or months necessary to woo this shy, inexperienced young woman, and anyway that would have been a deal-breaker for Carmen, too.

"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer, or anything. Tell me it's none of my business and to go to hell, if you want to. But ... have you ever been ... you know. With another woman?"

The girl didn't look up but she smiled to herself. "Yeah, I have. Three times, in college. Once with my roommate, and twice with a girl in one of my classes."

Carmen felt tears welling up in her eyes, but didn't know why. "Okay, then, Robin. Wow. That took a lot of courage to tell me that. I know it must have been hard for you."

At last, Robin looked up into Carmen's eyes, and then looked away. "Actually ... it felt kinda good. To say it. Liberating. I never told anyone. There's nobody ... none of my friends, none of the other teachers, not that I know of, anyway. I mean, I know one or two people who are gay and all, everybody does ... but nobody that, you know, I can talk to about stuff like that. My family ... we're a military family. All these religious, tight-ass conservative Republicans. My dad, my big brothers, they'd all go ballistic if they knew. And ... there's no way, I'm not coming out to anybody. I know maybe someday I might have to. But I'm not ready now, and I have no reason to."

"How long have you known? About yourself, I mean."

Robin made a breath-expelling sound, and picked up her coffee cup. "Just about forever, I guess."

"Yeah, me, too," Carmen said. "Since I was about 12, anyway. Maybe not forever ... but ever since Day One of puberty, you know? When your body starts to wake up and all those hormones start kicking in. I knew pretty much right away." She looked up and saw that Robin was thinking seriously about something. "What?"

The girl smiled, and then looked up, briefly, then shyly looked back at her hands.

"I was thinking," she said, "that I'd like to stay the night with you."

***

"I don't know about you, but I need a shower pretty bad," Carmen said as they walked into her hotel room. "I've been sweating under those hot lights all night. I'm all stinky. Come on, join me." Without waiting for an answer, Carmen stripped herself and also Robin, and then pushed her ahead of her into the bathroom's shower stall. It all happened so fast Robin had no time to react or to even voice a preference one way or the other. Carmen didn't want to give the girl a moment to think, panic or change her mind. She knew that a blitz was the only way to do it.

Carmen had never been the seducer before; she had been the innocent or mostly innocent seducee of Lucia and Sister Rosario, and then after that she had been reasonably experienced and knowledgeable. She'd had lovers after Picassa, but none had been virginal or lez-virginal; they knew what they were doing and so did Carmen. Not only was this a new experience for Robin, it was for Carmen, too, but she seemed to need no guidance whatsoever. Her moves were assured. She never once hesitated, or thought, "What do I do now?" She knew. Robin's innocence only heightened the excitement.

Carmen washed her new cub thoroughly and efficiently as Robin squirmed, wriggled and laughed, eyes squeezed shut against the shampoo and the spray, mewling and squealing as Carmen licked her face and nuzzled her neck and ears. Sightless, Robin put out her right hand and cupped Carmen's left boob, for spatial orientation and balance, or maybe because she just couldn't believe what was finally in her hand: a woman's soft, warm, wet breast. It felt so good, so ... right. Robin's subconscious reverted back nearly twenty years to the last time she'd stood naked, giggling, as someone who loved her washed her squeaky clean.

Carmen was impressed with how much the girl trusted her, that no matter where Carmen wanted to touch her or kiss her or stroke her, the girl would let her do it without hesitation. It wasn't that she was fearless, like, say, Shane was. It was just pure, simple trust: She had put herself in Carmen's hands, and that was it. Whatever Carmen wanted to do, this girl was willing to let her do it. She and Carmen had entered that open savannah where the boundary lines between the sexual and the maternal were washed away, for it is to be remembered that the jaguar goddess Ixchel was not only the priestess of women and medicine, but also of maternity, child-bearing and child-rearing. Robin was as hungry to suckle at the tender breast she held as Carmen was to offer it to this inexperienced, needy child-woman. This sexual/maternal nexus was something no man, straight or gay, had any knowledge of, and no dominion over.

Not for the first time all that night, Carmen had the thought that maybe this was the kind of woman she ought be in love with, someone quiet and loyal, someone who wanted and needed to be loved and wasn't afraid to give her heart away. Someone whose spirit was whole and undamaged, and just waiting for Princess Charming to come along and set her free. But Carmen also knew that was unfair to Shane; it was partly because Shane was damaged and hurting and so much in need that Carmen was so attracted to her. It was a woman's nature to heal and comfort the wounded.

Carmen rinsed Robin's hair, kissed her on the mouth and pushed her into a corner of the stall while she washed herself quickly. Robin stared fascinated at the tattoo she'd only seen small hints of peeking out at the top of Carmen's pants. Now that she could see the full display, front and back, Ixchel's twin faces atop that beautiful, flawless bottom and in the front the flower boxes and the tiny triangle of closely mowed carpet, she was mesmerized. If asked, Robin couldn't have remembered the last time she'd been awake at 2:30 in the morning, much less likely to be awake for some hours to come, being gloriously fucked and sucked until sun-up. That had never happened before.

When they had dried off as much as Carmen was willing to allow, she pulled the naked woman to her, wrapped her arms around her and kissed her. Then walking backward she pulled the girl with her to the bed, and gently laid her down on it, and climbed over her. She looked down into Robin's glassesless face, and saw her eyes were wide, but she looked ... happy.

"In college," Carmen said, "when you made love with those girls. Did they go down on you? Did you go down on them?"

"No," Robin said, "we just used our fingers. Well, my roommate, she kissed me there, for a second. But that's about all. It wasn't very--"

"Okay," Carmen said, bending down to kiss her softly. "I'm going to make love to you tonight the way it should be. I'm going to teach you things. You don't have to do anything to me if you don't want to. It's up to you. No pressure. Nothing you don't want to do, 'kay? And if you want me to stop doing something, just tell me. I want to do a hundred things to you, but I won't do anything you don't want, okay?"

"I understand," Robin whispered. "I want ... ."

"Yes?"

"I want you to do everything. Everything there is. And I want to learn to do those things to you. I know I don't know anything, but--"

Carmen interrupted her with a kiss. "It's all right," she said. "I'm going to do things to you you've only ever imagined before. Would you like that?"

"Oh, God, yes."

Carmen laughed. "I'm going to kiss and lick and suck your breasts, and I want you to suck mine. Would you like to do that?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And then I'm going to go down on you." She could feel the girl shiver and squirm beneath her. "I'm going to kiss and lick your pussy. I'm going to lick it and fuck it with my tongue, I'm going to eat your pussy, and you're going to come like you've never come before, in my mouth."

"Oh, God!" Robin sighed again. "I'm getting so wet!"

Carmen laughed again. "You don't know what wet is," she said, and bent down and took Robin's hard left nipple into her mouth as the lesson began. Robin's breasts were smaller than Shane's or Jenny's, but that's how Carmen liked them. Robin's first orgasm caught them both by surprise; she had been so excited for so long thinking about having sex with Carmen that she was off like a jackrabbit. She had her first climax just from Carmen's kissing and sucking her breasts and rubbing her lightly haired vulva. One moment she was moaning and sighing and the next thing either of them knew Robin had arched up taught as a bongo drum, thrust her hips and pussy into Carmen's hand, shot her head back, and quivered into a cum that drenched Carmen's palm.

"Wow, where did that come from?" Carmen laughed, holding the girl as she twitched and shivered in her arms. She brought her palm up to her mouth and licked Robin's juices. Then she held the palm to Robin's mouth and said, "Here, taste this. This is what you taste like." Not really knowing what Carmen was talking about, the still-dazed Robin dutifully leaned forward and licked the palm of Carmen's hand, tasting the salty pussy brine. It was the first pussy she had ever tasted, and it was her own.

Carmen let Robin recover for a minute, then let her fall back on the bed, still breathing hard and staring vacantly at the ceiling as Carmen leaned over her and started kissing her way down over the girl's stomach and down to the promised land. Carmen was not at all surprised that Robin had an untrimmed bush; she had washed it in the shower, and it had fluffed out when Carmen had dried it; now it was damp again. Carmen buried her nose in it and deeply inhaled clean girl smell. She moved down a little more and nuzzled the girl's thighs, gently spreading them and kissing the trembling muscles down to the knees and back up again. She took her time, and when she thought Robin was ready, she lovingly began to perform the house specialty, her piece de resistance, the thing Carmen did better than almost every other lesbian in California: Cunnilingus La Pica. She laved the girl's lightly furred outer lips, bringing forth tender sighs and moans from somewhere up above. Then Carmen made her tongue wide and flat and started at the perineum, northbound.

"Oh, Jesus," Robin moaned. For twenty agonizing minutes she endured a licking that turned into a pussy-parting tongue-fucking that became a finger-fucking clit-licking. Carmen gently pulled the girl's inner lips apart and softly tongued her vestibule, probing with her tongue at Robin's pee hole and the surrounding spongy pad, then licking all around before thrusting her tongue into the opening as far as it would go. She pulled Robin's inner lips out one at a time and licked them, both sides, slowly, listening to a madrigal of moans and cries. Robin was wet, and Carmen's face was slick with her joy. Finally Carmen went in for the kill, fucking the pussy with two and then three fingers while her mouth licked for the second time the girl's swollen clit hood, then her clit. Robin was keening and crying and humping her hips up in the air as her fists clenched the sheets.

In college Carmen had taken an elective in geology, on the theory that anyone living in California ought to learn as much as possible about earthquakes and tectonic plates. Her take-away was something slightly different, and during lovemaking -- especially cunnilingus -- it became what Carmen liked to think of as "seismic activity." As far as she was concerned it was the highlight, the pinnacle, the most shatteringly enjoyable part of making a woman cum: all those tremors, quivers, shakes, twitches, shudders, quakes, the spasming, clenching thighs, the shivers, the heaving soft jello bowl of fluttering belly, the back-arching, toe-flexing, jiggling, quavering, lurching, thrusting, the muscle judders as the inner thighs crushed against her ears. Carmen had learned that sometimes the oscillations from an earthquake could suddenly turn solid earth into vibrating mud. Likewise, Carmen knew, there came a point when a woman's vulva seemed to go slack, to quiver, to lose all its muscular tone and just go all jelly spaz under her mouth while the adductor muscles in the woman's thighs went into spasm, the woman erupting, a gush of love streaming from her liquid cunt as up above the woman screamed, or clenched her teeth in that wonderful grimace, a river of obscenities like a lava flow, fuck, oh fuck, fuck, oh god, oh fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk.

Carmen's skill was such that she thought that an "average" or "ordinary" sexual encounter -- if there even was such a thing; they were rare in Carmen's experience, although Shane BC (before Carmen) used to have them once or twice a week -- should produce what Carmen liked to call "Taking Attendance at Short Vowel School." This occurred when her lover called out all the short vowel moans and groans, ahhhhhhhhhhh, ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, ihhhhhhhhhhhhh, ohhhhhhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhhhhhhh, and even the occasional long vowel, eeeeeeeeee or oooooooooooooooooo. If that's all the session produced, by Carmen's reckoning, then somebody was either drunk or just not trying very hard. Carmen expected and almost always got what she liked to call "The Hymn of the Short Vowels," an a capella canticle that melded her lover's orgasm with scat singing, a free-form, improvisational jazz movment, "Oh, God, ohhhhhhhhhh my God, ohhhhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhh, Jesus, oh my God, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, omigod omigod omigod, aieeeeeeeee, oh Jesus, oh, oh, please God, oh, eeeeeeeeeeee, oh fuck, oh God, yessssssssssssssss, oh, uh, uh, almost ... don't ... ohhhhhhhhhhh God, ohhhhh, there, fuuuuuugggg, oh, fugggggggggggggggggg ... ." If the hymn didn't have the word "fuck" in it, it could have been written by a 13th century monk.

This was the psalm Robin sang, she who had chastely almost never said the F-word in her life before, especially not when you work around third-graders all day, as her pussy shook and soaked Carmen's tongue, as she quivered and twitched and clenched into her second coming, a shivering vaginal-induced orgasm three times more intense than the first, clit-rubbed climax. Robin had orgasmed before, of course; she had masturbated and brought herself off numerous times, and she had been finger-fucked to orgasm three times in college. But this cum was orders of magnitude beyond anything she knew of or ever thought possible. Her hands clutched the back of Carmen's head, and when Carmen's middle finger stroked the back side of Robin's clit from inside her pussy, the walnut-sized nub of engorged Skene's gland, the G-spot delivered to Carmen a shotglass of Sappho's nectar more delicious than any Carmen could remember. That's when Robin came again, and passed out.