The Watchtower

My heart soars. “Great,” I say. “Let’s go!” A short while later, we’re eating out.

“Alex,” Adrienne grumbles. “This food is really rich...I can’t believe you’re making me ruin my diet.”

“You don’t need a diet,” I argue. I hate it when she acts like this. She has this silly idea that she’s not beautiful or that she’s fat. It’s insane. If you ask me, she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen. She’s an intelligent girl, but she lets herself be taken in by patriarchal standards of beauty, and get controlled by her boyfriends.

It bothers me that she doesn’t realize her full potential.

“Alex, you’re blind,” says Adrienne. “I could afford to lose about twenty pounds. At least.”

The extra pounds just make her softer to touch, I think. Oh, so sexy. Aloud, I say, “You need a mirror.”

“Or maybe you need glasses.”

“You underestimate yourself,” I say.

“When will you start thinking of putting out a CD?” she asks, ignoring my remark.

“I don’t think I’m there yet, Adrienne,” I point out.

“Your songs,” she says, “they’re good. They could use some variations in the accompaniment, but I liked them.”

“Wow, I’m flattered,” I say, genuinely surprised. “I mean, you’re pretty harsh. You totally ripped into that metal band last week.”

“Alex, I couldn’t help it,” she grins. “It was a crappy CD. All that my-life-sucks and I-want-to-die and so-I-need-you-to-love-me-baby garbage. Makes you want to give the lead singer a hug to make him stop crying and then go and kill yourself.”

I laugh. “What do you like about *my* music? I mean, what makes it different?”

“Oh, Alex,” she says. “I know you have high standards, but you really need to stop putting down your music.”

“Just tell me.”

“Alex, there are three types of songs,” she says. “There’s the kind that are god-awful and you hate them immediately. There’s the kind that you love instantly, the minute you hear them, because they’re so catchy...but you tire of them very quickly. Like a one-night stand.”

I listen intently.

“And then,” she continues, “there’s the best music. It’s like slow romance. The kind that on first listen, you might not even understand. Then you go back and listen again. And each time you hear that song, you get something new from it...it keeps building you higher and higher.”

“Like foreplay,” I whisper, a gulp forming in my throat.

“Right,” she says, smiling knowingly, and I’m sure she can tell that I just want to kiss her. “And that’s what I like about your music. In short: you’re good. And you know it, so admit it, already.”

Moments like these, I realize why I like her so much. Adrienne has always believed in me. Always egged me on when I’m down, and at the same time given me constructive criticism. And she has that quality of being *genuinely* happy for someone when things go right for them...something I can’t seem to do.

I guess all artists are a little self-involved.

“Fine, fine, fine,” I say, speaking in an exaggerated British accent. “My art is better than your art.”

“That’s better,” Adrienne beams at me. “When’s your next gig?”

“Oh, soon,” I say. “At the coffee shop. I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” she says. “I’d love to bring Tim...” She trails off, seeing, no doubt, the immense disappointment in my eyes.

I snap out of it as quickly as I can. “Sure, that’d be great,” I say, keeping my voice even. Well, what did I expect? She’s a bicurious straight girl. I can’t have her. I *shouldn’t* have her.

And still, *knowing* all of this, I can’t seem to get her out of my mind.

**********

SHAWN
-----

Sometimes sex with a stranger can be so hot.

There’s the adrenaline rush you get from touching someone that you’ve never met before. There’s the intellectual challenge of trying to figure out what sort of a person she is by the way she’s touching you. There’s the spiritual element of doing everything in your power to please her and watch her do the same for you, as if you’ve been lovers for a long time.

Oh, and I don’t need to mention the physical factor.

The world can easily be divided into two groups: people with a strong desire to fuck, and people without it. I always find the former to be an infinitely happier, more tolerant and healthier bunch. And I’m glad that I’m counted as one of them.

I need to borrow a book on financial management for a report I’m writing, so I’m scanning shelves at the library. It’s almost closing time, so it’s completely deserted. I’m irritated. I can’t find my book, and not having sex in two days makes me cranky. I hate this library. It’s so inadequate.

“Hey,” I hear a voice behind me whisper. I turn around to see a very sexy young girl – mid-twenties, probably – dressed in men’s vintage pants and a tight-fitting, stretch-knit top that keeps me curious. Her skin is a shade between cinnamon and chai, and her dark brown hair falls to her shoulders.

“Can I help you?” I whisper back.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” she smiles broadly. “I’m the library assistant. You’ve been rummaging about these shelves for over half an hour now. Can’t find a book?”

“Yeah,” I grimace. “Big report due. But don’t worry, I’m on it.”

“Who’s the author?”

“Robert Higgins.”

“Well, you might have to get up the ladder,” she says. “Shall I help?”

“No, thanks, I got it,” I say, climbing up the ladder quickly.

“I think you’re looking in all the wrong places,” she says, her smile becoming playful. I look down into her big brown eyes from my position on the ladder. My eyes wander to her right hand. A rainbow ring! I can’t believe my luck. “Hey,” she says, authoritatively. “Trust me, you need my help. I’m coming up.”

She climbs up my ladder, standing just one rung below me, her entire body pressing against mine, the soft flutter of her breath on my neck. Her touch instantly sends a tingle down my spine. This blatant physical contact was hardly necessary. I am now quite sure this girl is thinking what I’m thinking.

Effortlessly, she slides the ladder in the other direction. “Hmmm,” she says, her chin now just above my shoulder, tickling my shoulders. I should not have worn this sleeveless shirt. “You’re right. I don’t see it here either.”

She climbs a little lower down the ladder, her hand dangerously close to my breasts as it rests on the side of the ladder. “Higgins, Higgins,” she murmurs as she scans the shelves. “Nope, not here either.”

She slides further down the ladder, trying to touch my body as much as permissible without being too obvious, her left hand now grazing my left thigh, her right one searching through the shelf. “I’m sorry, your book doesn’t appear to be here,” she says, looking up at me innocently with her big, brown eyes.

I look down at her inviting face. “Really?” I ask. “Maybe you should just look harder.”

She slinks down the ladder slowly, letting her left hand run down the length of my left leg unmistakably, causing an immediate rush of blood to my clit and increasing my arousal. “Well,” she says, grinning. “Maybe I will, if you make it worth my while...uh, sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

I climb down the ladder and stand in front of her. “Shawn,” I say, extending my hand.

“Jamie,” she says, gripping my hand firmly. “I remember you, Shawn. I’ve seen you here before.” She has a calloused hand, I think. Carpentry. She does carpentry.

“So are you going to help me, or what?” I ask, pointedly, as I run a quick hand through my hair.

“This way,” she says, in a tone that sounds almost professional. She leads me to a corner of the library which appears to be even more deserted, and where the shelves are filled with dusty books. “No-one ever comes here,” she says, with a slightly nervous laugh.

I bend down and kiss her mouth fiercely, my arms slipping around her waist. She tilts her head to let me nip at her neck slightly. I nuzzle her neck, never quite kissing it, never quite biting it, just teasing her flesh, and feeling her body respond in my arms.

“Get naked and get on the floor,” whispers Jamie in my ear, biting my earlobe. I nod, surprised by her sudden boldness. I undress quickly, sweat already starting to drip under her stare, and lie down.

Jamie bends down over me, her eyes locked with mine. She climbs on top of me, marveling my body, but not touching it just yet. She lowers her lips to my navel, blowing at it, and then looking up to meet my gaze again. “You’re gorgeous,” she whispers, finally bending down and letting her lips meet my skin. My entire body jerks at her touch as if hit by a bolt of electricity.

She lets her hands rest at my waist, her thumbs rubbing over my belly, and rises higher so that she can kiss my mouth. I grab her by the neck and shoulders, forcing her to come down, and kiss her, softly at first, and then more intensely. She kisses my neck with an almost savage passion, her tongue running up and down it, a finger tracing my collarbone. I dig my nails into her back as wave after wave of pleasure hits me.

Running her hands up and down my inner thighs, Jamie kisses my chest bone. My hands rise to her shoulders, pushing her down, begging her to satisfy my hard nipples. “Don’t,” says Jamie, forbiddingly. I moan and shudder in anticipation. Jamie takes my arms and pins them to the side a little roughly, kissing my mouth furiously, while rubbing her breasts against mine.

My face is flushed. She listens to my short breaths, and watches my chest rise and fall. She brings her mouth down to my breasts, squeezing them both with her hands, and taking each hard nipple into her mouth. I fight to keep myself from screaming. Deserted or not, this is a library.

Jamie puts a finger to her lips and says, “Shhhh.” Then she returns her attention to my breasts, rolling each nipple between her fingers, letting her tongue feel the hardness, and resting her free hand on my crotch, which is now soaking with my juices, my clit standing out obscenely. She parts my legs with her hand and positions her body so that she is exactly between them. I begin bucking my hips toward her.

And right then I feel something firm between my legs. I look up at Jamie and we share a look of recognition. Holy mother of God. She’s a femme who’s packed a strap-on. What could possibly be sexier? I mean, I’m a sucker for an aggressive femme.

She knows that I’ve noticed it, and whips off her shirt and pants in a flash. “Fuck me,” I whisper.

She plunges the dildo deep and hard into my cunt, her face above mine, her tongue licking my chin. I am doing everything in my power to stay quiet. She bites my lip and kisses me to keep me silent. And suddenly, she pulls out, leaving me breathless, wanting more. “Don’t come,” she says, almost menacingly. “I want to take you higher.”

Then without warning, she thrusts herself again, harder this time, more raw, until my eyes roll back into my head and the both of us come in unforgettably intense orgasms.

“Hey,” she finally whispers in my ear. “I’m sorry. I lied. I know where your book is.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper back. “That was totally worth it. But maybe we should issue the book and head on back to my place.” Jamie nods.

I love this library.

**********

JESSE
-----

Cori and I are over at Shawn’s place lounging on the couch and watching TV. Alex is too busy practicing for her gig, and Pat is out with some people from college. I’m actually relieved that I won’t have to face her for a while.

This has upset me, because I had planned on talking to Pat today. I’ve been feeling really guilty about the way I’ve acted. She’s just been trying to talk to me, and I’ve been pushing her away.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, Cori,” I say.

“Hmmm, what?” asks Cori.

“Something on your mind, kiddo?” asks Shawn.

“Not really,” answers Cori.

“Yes, really,” says Shawn. “Don’t lie to me. What’s up with you? Grades?”

“No, nothing like that,” says Cori, shyly. “There’s...well, there’s this thing that I have to do...”

“You’re blushing, Cori,” I say, grinning.

“Yeah, ‘cos, uh, there’s this girl...that I like...”

“Oh, my gosh!” exclaims Shawn. “I can’t believe I’ve lived to see this day! Cori’s actually considering doing something about her nonexistent love life! Quick, Jess! Get the camera and take a picture! This is a Kodak moment!”

“You guysss,” groans Cori, as the both of us give her huge congratulatory bear hugs.

“I’m so happy,” says Shawn. “My little baby is growing up. I think I’m going to cry.” She pretends to well up and get teary-eyed.

“Shawn,” says Cori. “Cut it out. I’m really not that bad.”

“Yeah, whatever, *virgin*,” sneers Shawn. “Who’s the girl? Do we know her? Is she smart? Have you said anything stupid yet?”

“Shawn, let her speak,” I say.

“Her name’s Jace,” states Cori proudly. “She’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And she’s totally smart, too. She helps me study for math class.”

“But is she gay, Cor?” asks Shawn. “Remember the cardinal rule: don’t try to be Alex.”

“Oh, she’s gay, all right,” says Cori, confidently. “She’s president of the Gay-Straight Alliance at school.”

“So, when do you make your move?” I ask. “When do you...you know...turn on the Charm-O-Cori?”

“Yeah, Cori the lady-killer,” snorts Shawn. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Shut up, Shawn,” I say, facing Cori. “Don’t listen to her. You’re the Cor-meister, girl!”

“Scuse me, Jess?” asks Shawn, condescendingly. “Have you put down your pom-poms? Good. First of all, Cori is *my* protégé, so don’t you go worrying your pretty little pointy head about this issue.” I roll my eyes. “Secondly, Cori, we’re going to rehearse what you will do, and give you the do’s and don’t’s.”

“Shawn, let her be,” I object. “Stop messing with her head! She’s an impressionable kid!”

“That’s my whole point, Jess!” says Shawn. “Cori’s a blank slate, and I’m the artist!”

“What? Excuse me, I’m right here!” whines Cori, standing up.

“Shut up, *virgin*,” taunts Shawn. Cori sits down again obediently. “Where was I? Yes. Cori, take notes.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” I raise my eyebrows. Here we go again. I think I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show.

“Rule one,” says Shawn. “Be cool. Don’t get all flustered the way you usually do. None of the uhhh-ing and ummm-ing.”

“Got it,” says Cori, writing something down.

“Don’t just get it, *do* it,” orders Shawn. “Rule two. Don’t start vomiting out of nervousness. We know the last time you tried to sing karaoke was ugly.”

Cori reddens.

“And for God’s sake, don’t wind up asking her if you can go to the bathroom!”

Cori starts biting her nails.

“More importantly,” Shawn continues. “When the big night comes, do yourself a huge favor...don’t refer to her body parts using the world’s most stupid euphemisms, okay?”

“I can’t ask her if she’ll let me touch her tunnel of love?”

“Oh, Christ!” I groan.

“NO!” shouts Shawn. “COR-REE! No tunnel of love, no secret garden, no passion flower or whatever else the hell you like to call it when you’re getting off! Geez, Cori, what am I ever going to do with you?”

“Okay, fine,” says Cori, in a resigned tone. “I got all that down.”

I think I’m going to put an end to this now. “Is sex-ed class over?” I ask. I glance at the notes Cori has been taking. I put my hands to my head and pretend to read in a robotic voice, “Must do whatever Shawn says. Must lose any semblance of individuality I have. Must donate brain as soon as possible.”

“Shut up, Jess,” growls Shawn. “You’ll all thank me some day.”

“Yeah, Jess!” says Cori, gazing adoringly at Shawn. “Shawn’s the greatest. I...I can see a light glowing around her.”

“Okay, enough with the borderline fawning, Cor,” says Shawn, giving her a slight whack on her head. “Now get out of here. Go do your homework.”

As Cori leaves, I settle down on the couch next to Shawn. “I hope you know what a big responsibility this is,” I say. “That kid thinks the world of you.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Shawn. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her. You don’t look so good, Jess. Something up?”

“Nothing, really,” I yawn.

“It’s Pat, isn’t it?” asked Shawn instantly, a little worried.

“No,” I say. “I mean, not really.”

“What’s the matter, Jesse?” asks Shawn. I can never lie to her. She knows something’s wrong. “You guys had a fight or something?”

“No, of course not.” Like I’m actually going to admit my problems with Pat to Shawn.

As if she’s read my mind, she says, “Ah, this is one of those things. When you can’t tell me what it is because of your weird issue with my stud status.”

I can’t believe her arrogance sometimes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Shawn. No-one thinks that highly of you, least of all me.”

“Well, if you don’t tell me, I’m just going to have to guess it,” she says, looking wicked. “It’s the sex, isn’t it?”

“What about the sex?” I ask.

“You know...” She sighs wistfully. “Couples that stay together forever...romance is hard...the flesh sags...you put on a few pounds...a wrinkle or two shows up...and before you know it, all that passion is kinda gone.”

This type of condescension demands that I lie through my teeth to save face. “What a load of crap!” I say, getting aggravated. “What, just because I haven’t slept with half the women in Pittsburgh you think my sex life can’t be as good as yours? I’ll have you know that my sex life with Pat is alive and kicking. Okay? My God! We just had the greatest sex a week ago!”

Shawn stifles a smile. “Don’t get so defensive, Jesse! It happens...well, not to me, of course...but sure, ’most everyone deals with lesbian bed death at one point or another.”

“LESBIAN BED DEATH?” I yell, beside myself. “I can’t believe you’re buying into this ridiculous, patriarchal MYTH! And Pat and I have most definitely NOT died in bed!”

“Jesse,” says Shawn, as seriously as she can. “You know, if you need help...” Then, she bursts out laughing. “You are just too damn easy, Jesse!”

I start smiling, and hit her with a cushion. “Will you knock it off! And quit laughing, it’s not funny!”

“Oh, Jess.” Shawn smiles, giving me a patronizing kiss on the cheek. “I luuurrrve you.”

“That’s it, I’m outta here,” I say, half-smiling as I get up and grab my coat.

“That’s right, baby,” Shawn calls out after me. “Go home and have deviant sex.” On my way out, I hear her say, “Don’t mind if I do myself.”

**********

PAT
---

“You’ve been awfully quiet lately,” I whisper into Jesse’s hair as I put an arm around her back to pull her inside the apartment. Another night of dancing without talking. I’m putting an end to this right now.

“Oh, really?” she says absently. “I don’t know...just tired, I guess.”

I look at her sternly. “You know, Jesse, you can lie to me so easily sometimes.”

“I’m not lying, Pat.” Jesse nervously runs a hand through her hair. I vaguely wonder why she’s even bothering. She knows that when something hurts her, it hurts me. And she knows that without her saying anything, I have already understood everything.

Which explains why she hasn’t been talking to me properly. It’s her way of dealing with her vulnerability: shutting me out. I decide to hit the nail right on the head: “I know what’s on your mind, Jess. I’m not going to let that happen.”

She flops down on the couch and switches on the television.