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This Ain't That: An Excerpt


by Michelle D. Dartis

“Here you go, Kennedy,” Cleo slightly bent down as to allow her to retrieve her wine goblet and then it happened. The women fell into a trance staring deep into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, the memory of their encounter a few weeks earlier in Cleo’s office flashed through her mind.

Oh, why is she looking at me like that—again? Doesn’t she know what that look does to me? Um, is that wetness I’m feeling down there? Snap out of it girl, damn.

Cleo finally pulled herself out of the trance and took her seat on the sofa. She made sure she left a respectable amount of space between them; an invisible barrier that kept her desire in check. She nervously brushed her hair back with her left hand as anxiety roared in her gut.

Please God, do not let my fear show. I would be so embarrassed if Kennedy knew just how scared and unsure of myself I was at this moment.

Before speaking, Cleo counted to five, and then took a long gulp of wine.

“Okay, we’re finally alone to talk about the things we briefly touched on at work a few weeks ago. I don’t know about you, but, honestly, I’ve been counting down the days for this conversation. I know I’m not the only woman who has discovered her attraction towards the same gender later in life, but you are the first woman I’ve known to admit it to me. I must say, it is comforting to know beyond a shadow of a doubt I am not alone in this.” Realizing she was rambling, she seized her jabbering, grabbed her fork, stabbed at her salad, and then quickly shoved a bite into her mouth.

Before uttering a word, Kennedy looked at her reassuringly. “Oh, Cleo. Let me say this and I hope it will settle your nerves a little bit ‘cause I can see you’re nervous and I don’t want you to be. This is a chance for us to come clean about this…this lesbian thing and I think we’ll get more out of it if we let go our doubts and just be honest with one another.”

Oh, damn, she did notice. Shit! Cleo held her head down in shame.

Recognizing her shame, Kennedy edged closer to her, and encased her in a warm embrace. For a long while, they held one another and let the tears flow. So many years of pent-up frustration, uncertainty, and questioning their sexual orientation and self-worth were convictions that ran deeper than the ocean for both women. The connection they now shared brought relief beyond compare. After the watershed ended, the women gathered themselves, reached for their wine goblets, and continued their discourse.

“So, as I was telling you at work, I think I’ve always known, but didn’t have the words for it. I just knew what I was feeling was wrong somehow, but being attracted to girls has been in me since early childhood,” Kennedy revealed.

“Wow! Are you serious, that young?” Her revelation took Cleo by surprise. “But, how did you know?” Her ears perked up like a feline the same way Shelby’s ears did whenever she was listening to a juicy story.

“Well,” said Kennedy as she kicked up her slender legs and tucked them under her bottom. Her stylish sandals were already resting on the floor. It was obvious she was comfortable in Cleo’s home. “I remember in first grade getting busted for sniffing my teacher’s chair. Mrs. Armstrong was her name and to me, she was an absolute goddess.” She gripped her belly as laughter rolled from the inside out.

Cleo’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “Hold up, hold up. Did you just say you got caught sniffing your teacher’s chair? What were you thinking?”

Not able to hold the laughter in any longer, Kennedy burst into a deafening cackle, exposing a full set of gleaming pearly white teeth. “Ah, CeeCee, I couldn’t tell you what was going through my mind, but the one thing Mrs. Armstrong did was give what I was a name, “gay.”

Kennedy had that far-away look in her twinkling grey eyes. Once again, Cleo was completely smitten with her comeliness, but instead of giving into lust, she remained calm, cool, and collected.

A few minutes past as Kennedy pondered that time in her life. Speechless, Cleo remained silent as Kennedy’s words settled in her mind.

After contemplating for another couple of minutes, Kennedy reached for her goblet, but realized it was empty. “Hey, may I have more wine, please?”

Cleo about jumped out of her skin. She was so attuned to the movie repeatedly playing in her head, that Kennedy’s sultry voice startled her.

She placed her hand on Cleo’s right knee and at that same moment, the phone rang.

“Ugh! Why is it the phone always rings when you’re around, Miss Lady, geesh!”

Kennedy gave her an innocent look that said, “Hey, it’s not my fault the phone is ringing.” She settled back into the soft cushiony sofa while Cleo pranced over to the counter to retrieve her cell phone. “Oh, it’s my sister Symone. This won’t take long.”

“Hey sis, what’s goin’ on?”

Kennedy rose up from the sofa, stretched her fine-as-wine fierce body, her eyes glued on the watercolor painting above the wood-burning fireplace.

“Okay, that’s fine, Symone.” Her eyes enjoyed her company’s backside. Once again, she felt herself getting aroused. Inside her panties, an undeniable wetness began making its way down her thigh. Indeed, she was a hopeless mess when it came to Miss Kennedy St. James.

“Tell my nieces I love them and I’ll see you all tomorrow. Bye!”

“You asked for more wine, right?” she asked as she headed to the glass coffee table to retrieve their empty glasses.

“Yes, please. Hey, who is Austin Timberland? I’ve never heard of him, but this painting is exquisite. I love the rainbow colors and the blending is superb.”

Cleo grabbed a bottle of Beringer Moscato from her fridge and held it up to show it to her. “Will this do?”

Still transfixed on Austin’s art, she nodded yes to Cleo’s wine selection.

“His approach to watercolor is something out of this world, isn’t it? Austin is a frat brother of one of my ex-boyfriend’s. I am a big fan and I see how his art has captured your attention. I reacted the same way when I first laid eyes on his work at Craig’s—the ex—house.” The nervousness she felt earlier had finally begun to subside. Surely, all the wine they were indulging in had something to do with it.

Cleo once again filled their goblets to the rim, and then returned to the living room. As the bubbly flowed throughout the evening, the heat between the two women grew to a fiery pitch. The hour hand on the huge antique wall clock struck 5 p.m. as the women’s tongues delighted in a carnal dance just as they had in Cleo’s office a few weeks earlier. Slowly, they began to undress one another as they headed down the hall to Cleo’s bedroom.

Though she was enthralled with what was happening, Cleo could not help but think how things had gotten out of control. One button, two buttons, three buttons, four. She counted each button on Kennedy’s shirt as she released them, only to reveal a seductive black lace bra.

She didn’t want to stop the tongue lashing going on between them. The magnetic pull enraptured them in unimaginable ways as Cleo rubbed her breasts and dipped her tongue in and out of her lover’s wet, inviting mouth.

“Oh, God, you are so beautiful, Kennedy.”

The women barely made it into the bedroom. “Take off your clothes and lay down on your back,” Cleo demanded.

Kennedy followed her command by letting what clothes remained on her body fall into a puddle around her ankles. She seductively stepped out of the puddle, eyes still glued on her seductress. Kennedy sauntered onto the cushiony mattress and held out her hand, inviting Cleo to join her.

The excitement brooding inside Cleo was almost too much to bear. However, that didn’t stop her from stripping naked and hopping into bed with the darling of her lesbian-infused dreams. After months of dreaming and fantasizing about her co-worker, she could hardly believe it was about to go down. The mere thought of Kennedy filling her mouth repeatedly with her juices excited every inch of her being.

Fantasy had become reality. For the first time in their lives, the women were embarking on a new journey they had dreamed of on numerous occasions, but never thought it would ever come to fruition. Ambiguity ceased to exist and all inhibitions were unleashed. Cleo and Kennedy anxiously gave in to unadulterated passion and simply let it flow like Niagara Falls.

Photo: Shutterstock

A native of Indianapolis, Indiana, Michelle Dartis is a freelance writer currently residing in Kalamazoo, Michigan and works in the higher education field. She is currently raising funds to publish her first novel. You may follow her on Twitter @Luvdestini.


1 comment

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