Abby's Scar Read online

  Jordan peeked at Abby from over her chest. “Well, you gonna do this thing, or what?”

  “Yeah.”

  Abby moved forward and knelt before Jordan's female splendor. She lifted her hand, fingers flexing, tantalizingly close to contact over their goal.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You have to decide. Make it good though. If it's lame, I'll disqualify you.”

  As she drew near, Jordan's essence filled her nostrils. She smelled like Heaven. This felt so right. The nerves ebbed from her muscles. She smiled at her prize, and gently ran her fingertips along its length. The beeper sounded.

  Abby drew close and watched her fingers slide up and down over Jordan's silky pink sanctum. She marveled at her tender and exposed center, her jewel, a wondrous bodily design only possessed by women. She realized that she felt, despite being forced into this situation, an honor at being at Jordan's most vulnerable femininity, her sexual heart, the literal portal to her body.

  Never having been this close to anyone's anatomy before, and curious, she probed further, running her finger up and down between Jordan's inner lips. Jordan moaned and lifted her arm to cover her forehead.

  Abby turned her attention to Jordan's clit. She batted it back and forth like punching a speed boxing bag. Jordan moaned louder. Her legs writhed. Her nub seemed so tiny to invoke the kind of pleasure that it did, but Abby knew from her own private time what a fantastic little organ it was.

  Jordan's pelvis shuddered.

  “Uh!”

  Abby rubbed her finger and thumb together, feeling the slick sex between them. She savored her smell again, then wetted her finger in her yearning moistness. Her finger found its way up and down the valley few more trips. Then it found itself circling her entrance, lifting the edge, teasing to gain sweet access. Abby glimpsed the pink inside. It was detectible, irresistible.

  She pushed through, closing her eyes as she sank her finger to the knuckle. Jordan sucked a deep breath and held it, tensing and wiggling slightly on Abby's finger. Jordan was warm and inviting inside, smooth, tight, and wet. Abby indulged in the moment, the mere thought of this beauty literally wrapped around her finger. It was Heavenly.

  The beeper sounded.

  She was free. All she had to do was declare herself straight and walk out the door. But she couldn't even if she wanted to. She was captivated by the display of femininity inches from her eyes. Instead of walk away, she leaned forward and applied her tongue to Jordan's clit.

  “Oh!” cried Jordan. Her legs shuddered. “That's the way!”

  Abby pumped her finger in and out. She continued to torment Jordan's bulging, ripe clit. Jordan gripped the desk, holding on for dear life. She grunted her dizzying pleasure, sucking breaths with an occasional snort. Abby twisted her hand and curled her finger to target her G-spot.

  “Oo!” Jordan sucked a deep breath and twisted on the desk. She held her breath and held her position. Abby halted, watching for some indication of her state.

  “You got me.”

  “What?”

  “I came.”

  “Oh.” Abby's eyebrows shot up. “Cool.”

  “So, are you straight?”

  Abby winced. “Not by a long shot.”

  Jordan sat up. “Bi?”

  “Nope.”

  Abby sat backward onto the olive green carpet.

  “Well, for your first time, that was some good work.”

  “Thanks.” She put hands together over her knees. “Look, um, please don't tell anyone about this, I mean, about me.”

  “Abby, you're a lesbian. It's part of who you are. You can't keep that a secret forever.”

  Abby looked around the room uncomfortably. “Look, this is all new to me. I'm still trying to figure it out. I need some time. Promise me you won't tell anyone.”

  “I won't. You have my word.” Jordan donned her black coat and began securing buttons. “Listen, this the best thing that ever happened to you. Being a lesbian is great. You never have to date guys.” She made a horrible face. “You're not going to get pregnant unless you want to. You'll date your best friend, someone who really understands you. If you ever want to have kids, your partner can carry them, if you’re not into it. It's great.”

  Abby clapped her hands together. “That all sounds great, but I'm more worried about my immediate problems.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like my dad's homophobia.”

  “Oh.”

  “When you're ready, just tell him. He'll have to deal with it one way or the other. It may be painful, but he'll get used to it.”

  “I'd like to think that it'll work out, but I'm not so sure. You don't know my dad.”

  “Maybe your mom can help.”

  “She's not in the picture anymore.”

  Jordan leaned over to retrieve her lace panties. “Sorry.”

  “So when exactly did I fail the test?”

  “When I lifted my skirt.” Jordan grinned. “I can pressure a straight girl into fondling my tits if I have some good leverage. That's not too hard.” She shook her head slowly. “But getting a girl to slip her fingers between my legs, that's another matter. A straight girl would gag.” Jordan chuckled. “She would have said, string me up by my fingernails. I don't care. I ain't touchin' no cooter. You perked up. I could tell you wanted it.”

  Just then the door opened and a student entered, a boy freckled and redheaded, probably a sophomore. Abby stood up next to Jordan.

  “Oh, is this Mrs. Schwer's room?”

  Jordan discreetly stuffed her underwear into Abby's pocket. “I think so. We were just hanging out for lunch. But we're leaving now.”

  “Okay,” responded the kid.

  Jordan led Abby out the door. Abby dug her hand into her pocket to retrieve the panties. “Do you want your...?”

  “Jeez! Not here!” Jordan grabbed her arm. “You keep them. I don't wear them half the time anyway. My gift.”

  Abby felt a flutter at the thought of keeping the lace in her pocket all day.

  Jordan drew close. A salacious smile crept across her face. “Abby, I showed you mine. Now, I want to see yours.”

  Abby's eyebrows shot up like Mexican jumping beans on cocaine. “You mean my... my....”

  “Yes. I want to see your vag.”

  “But you forced me into that. That was your test.”

  “Doesn't matter. I gave you two minutes with my pussy. You took a lot longer than that.”

  “Jordan!”

  “Abby, fair's fair.”

  “I'm not ready for that!”

  Jordan recoiled in disappointment. “Fine. Let's have a date, your first lesbian date. No sex, just the two of us hanging out, maybe some kissing. You can do that, right?”

  Abby nodded timidly.

  “Good. Where I have in mind, you can't be dressed like some redneck though. You email me your measurements and I'll take care of it, okay?”

  Abby responded with more than a little reserve. “Okay.”

  Jordan waved as she backed away smiling. “I'll talk to you later.”

  As Abby watched her walk into the school, she slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers into the lace folds.

   Coming to Grips 

  Abby sat through the day's classes in a daze. She replayed her encounter with Jordan over and over. Her hand wandered down to her pocket too many times to count, rubbing the lace between her fingers, harvesting Jordan's fragrance. Even with the physical evidence, it didn't seem quite real.

  Just before class let out, she texted Cindy to meet her after school. Abby drove them to Sunny Side Up, but couldn't break the news in the truck. They sat down to coffee.

  “Okay,” Cindy said impatiently under her breath. “What's so important that you should take me away from my homework, not that I'm complaining?”

  Abby gave her a wry frown.

  “What? Did Jordan notice you stalking her?”

  Abby shrugged and nodded.

  “Did
she confront you about it?”

  Abby nodded again.

  “And?!”

  Abby stared blankly.

  “Well?!”

  Abby released a flustered sigh. She reached under the table and caught Cindy's hand, placed something in it. Cindy felt the object. She brought to her lap for a clandestine examination. Her eyes widened.

  “Are these...?”

  Abby contained a silent chuckle.

  “What happened?”

  Abby leaned as far forward as she could on the table. She put a hand up to the side of her face and whispered so low that Cindy had to lean forward as well and concentrate to understand the words.

  “She made me prove to her that I'm not... gay.”

  “And...?” Cindy queried from the edge of her seat.

  “I failed.”

  “So you're gay.”

  Abby leaned back and nodded.

  Cindy smiled. “I thought so. Good for you, Abby. Are you going to see her again?”

  Abby nodded. “Friday.”

  Cindy sat up. She looked Abby over for a moment. “Are you at all excited?”

  A grin slowly crept across Abby's face until finally she giggled. “Uh-huh.”

  “Good. It's okay to be happy about it.”

  Abby rubbed her cheek nervously. “It's still weird. Another girl. I just can't quite wrap my head around it.”

  “You do like her though.”

  “Yes. She's...” Abby's eyes widened, and she stared at Cindy.

  “You don't have say it.” Cindy smiled. “It's what I feel with Cody. Abby, I'm really happy for you. This is really important for you. You finally found your type.”

  “I guess so.” Abby smiled.

   Goth Scene 

  Abby pulled up outside Jordan's house. It was nothing if not impressive. A flat, wide stone structure, its true proportions were hidden behind generously contoured landscaping, rolling and artsy.

  Abby parked on the street and strolled up the walkway to the front door, a huge slab of dark hardwood framed in iron.

  She rang the doorbell.

  The portal swung open.

  “Howdy.”

  “You're late,” said Jordan, her face shrouded behind a black lace veil down to her black lipstick covered mouth. She wore an elegant dress of black lace over a natural tone. Abby gaped. It took her a few moments to come to her senses and answer.

  “I'm only a few minutes over. I got stuck in traffic. Um, you look incredible.”

  “No matter. Come in.” Jordan opened the door. “And thanks.” Abby followed her into the cavernous home. She'd never seen anything like it. A wide granite entrance with a low ceiling led into a huge aqua green living area, lit by what looked like an open roof. It must have been the biggest skylight in the world. Everything was plush, inviting, and perfectly kept. Books and sculpture filled the vast shelves that lined every wall. There were plants of every variety on tables, shelves, and stands. Some larger ones sat huge on the floor. Tending to them must have been someone's full time job.

  Abby wanted to explore, but Jordan quickly pulled her down a side hallway lined by numerous doorways.

  “I have everything you need to fit in. You're going to look fabulous!”

  “Where are we going?”

  “The Church.”

  “You're taking me to church?”

  “No, silly. The Church. It's a Goth club in Dallas. It's the place, trust me.”

  “Okay.”

  Jordan led her into what was presumably her bedroom. The walls were black. Several framed pictures of black and white art dotted the walls around the room. It looked empty and cold. Jordan was cute, but not cuddly.

  She lifted some clothes on hangers from the bed and handed them to Abby, smiling.

  “Put these on.”

  Abby looked them over. One was a suit made a of some soft material. Velvet? Velour? Its color was off black, a dark red tone, and it had some odd lace trim. The shirt was white with ruffles. Abby gave Jordan a slight look of exasperation.

  Jordan placed her hand on Abby's arm. “I know they're not what you're used to, but trust me. I know what I'm doing. You'll look smashing!”

  “You sure 'bout that?” Abby scanned the antique looking duds over again.

  “Yes! Now, change! We have to get moving!”

  Abby started to unbutton her shirt. Jordan stood watching. Abby halted. There was an uncomfortable silence.

  “Um, I'd be better off doing this part by myself.”

  “Oh, of course. Your modesty. Silly me.” Jordan waved a dismissive hand and floated out of the room.

  A few minutes later, Abby emerged into the hallway fully dressed.

  “Oh, very nice,” exclaimed Jordan. “But where is your tie?”

  Abby held up a hand. “I've never tied one of these before.”

  Jordan stepped up, took the tie and wrapped it around Abby's neck. She tied it into a bow.

  “There. That's very sharp. Now for that mane of yours.”

  “My mane?”

  Jordan led her by the hand into a bathroom. “Yes.” She positioned Abby before a mirror.

  Abby looked herself over. In the strange vintage suit, she looked more like a young gentleman from the nineteenth century than a lesbian going out for a night on the town.

  Jordan opened a jar of hair product and applied several large clumps of the stuff to Abby's head. She then combed it in, parting her hair down the middle. The goop served to lay her wild curls down, keeping her hair matted against her head. Jordan took a length of leather and tied her hair back in a ponytail.

  “This stuff feels really weird.”

  “I'm not done yet. I'll take out the excess.” She applied a towel to her head, but very little of the goop came off. Most of it was buried under the surface.

  “Well, that does the trick. You do look dapper.”

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, yes!” said Jordan. “Absolutely! Everyone will be checking you out tonight.”

  Abby shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Great. Let's get going.”

  Abby followed Jordan through the giant living area past a dining room and kitchen into a garage that could have held a dozen cars. Jordan led her to a little black sports car convertible. She pulled the keys from her purse. Showing a toothy grin, she held the keys up for Abby.

  “You drive.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. I like my dates to drive.”

  “Okay. Dandy.” Abby opened the passenger door for Jordan and waited for her to get settled before closing it and getting in behind the passenger seat. She searched for the ignition.

  “Over here.”

  “Sorry. This is all pretty fancy for me.”

  “Do you know what this is?”

  “This car? No.”

  “This is a Porsche Boxter Limited Edition.”

  Abby gave her only a blank face.

  “Never mind.”

  The drive was pleasant, although Abby didn't see what all the fuss was about with convertibles. Rolling down her truck's windows was mostly the same thing.

  Jordan set up the navigation system for her. Now, that was pretty cool. Once they got on the main straightaway, though, she didn't have to watch it as closely.

  “Have you thought any more about coming out?”

  Abby looked over to see if she was serious. “You kidding? Not a chance.”

  “Look, I'm just not to that place in my life. I... I don't know when... or if that'll ever happen.”

  “You've been gay for what... a week? Take it from a veteran, you're life will be much simpler if you come out. It does you no good keeping a huge secret like that. It's just damaging to your self-esteem. It's damaging to your relationships. It's not worth it.”

  Abby eyed the road in silence.

  “And so?” asked Jordan.

  “I hear what you're saying. I'm just trying to picture me telling my dad. And I'm trying to imagine our life together with me as a le
sbian. Hell, I'm just trying to come to grips with being a lesbian. Jordan, I need to move a little slower.”

  “Well, that's fine if you want, but eventually, you're going to realize I'm speaking the truth.”

  The club was filled with all types of odd sorts. Jordan was right about one thing, they both looked as normal as anyone else. In fact, Abby had never seen any place like it.

  Everyone wore black. There was almost no color of any kind, with the exception of the occasional accent.

  Leather, lace, and corsets were all popular attire. Many wore skirts or dresses. Many of the men sported suits of various creative varieties.

  One girls wore a sheer garment over her body with seams in a grid that complemented her shape. The grid patches over her nipples and crotch were darker, but everything else was plainly visible, including her belly button. Abby found her quite arousing. What was just odd were the two stuffed ravens, one on each shoulder and her eyes. She must have worn cosmetic contacts or something, because here eyes looked dead, soulless. When she looks at someone, it was as if she stared straight through them, glazed over.

  One small woman in a shiny skin tight suit passed by them leading a tall, gaunt man in by a leash connected to a dog collar around his neck. When Abby stared uncontrollably at them, the man gave her a sarcastic grimace as if to say what are you looking at?

  “Oh, there they are,” Jordan said over the electronic music. She pointed to a large corner table and led Abby over. “I think you know everyone here.” She put her hand on the one stranger at the table, a thin boy sitting at the end of the bench. Abby had seen him in the back of the school, but not yet met him.

  “This is Romeo.” He wore a white shirt under a black cape. Like Abby his hair was slicked back, but unlike Abby, his straight hair plastered to his scalp closely. He looked up at Abby with a sadistic smile. As she examined him, he suddenly rose up. He raised his arms, holding his cape, making it appear like bat wings and hissed at her like a cat, baring fangs.