Chapter Eleven
After a few blocks Mary pointed to a bar across the street. The patrons could be heard laughing and singing the full distance away.
“We’ve got to go inside.” Mary grinned as they dodged traffic.
It was practically shoulder-to-shoulder people as they entered. The ratio of men to women was about equal. The vast majority had their proud gayness in common, but even the few who were more than likely straight were arm in arm with friends who most definitely weren’t.
Beth immediately liked the feel of the place. No one in the jovial crowd seemed too drunk, nor was the music blaring so loudly that all anyone could do was stare at people or dance. The bar was actually a big rectangular island in the middle of the room, with bartenders holding court on every side. One of them held a microphone and was acting as emcee. Though there was music playing, he was definitely the main entertainment.
As they approached, a woman darted between them, moving in so close to Mary that they were almost nose to nose.
“Hey, baby.” The woman’s seductive smile was slightly exaggerated.
Mary stepped back and reached for Beth’s hand. She seemed to know the woman. “Hey, how are you?”
“Beyond ready.”
Mary ignored the innuendo. “Nice to see you,” she said insincerely and continued leading Beth toward the bar.
More people greeted Mary, some waving as others reached out to hug her. When the emcee spotted her, he raised the mic and said, “Mary’s here. Someone get her a drink, quick.”
Other patrons yelled hellos and Mary just laughed.
The emcee raised a bottle of cinnamon schnapps over his head. He was very effeminate, which amused Beth because he seemed to be one of the strongest men there. His muscles bulged from inside his shirt and rippled down his forearms to the beefy paws that held the mic and the bottle.
He waved the schnapps. “Now all of you sports fans stay outta this one… I’m only talking to the men, now.” Everyone howled, and he went on, “Oh, all right, lipstick lesbians included, too. First one to yell out the answer gets the schnapps. In nineteen seventy-one, which NFL team went totally undefeated through the season and on to win the Super Bowl?”
Mumbling broke out in the bar and a tall, thin man with a thick shock of red hair yelled out, “The Miami Dolphins.”
The emcee feigned a heart attack and narrowed his eyes at the redhead. “Did you come up with that all by your lonesome, or did the softball team help you?”
There was, in fact, a group of women behind him, all sporting striped ball pants. One of the female players raised her hand and called out, “That was too easy. Ask a harder question.”
“Oh well,” the emcee waved a hand through the air, “I guess I underestimated the time you’ve sat in front of the telly watching locker-room interviews. Can’t blame you, honey.”
Suddenly from wherever the sound system was being controlled, a song came up, louder than before. Grand Funk’s version of “The Locomotion” began and the emcee called out, “Yeah! Up on the bar!”
He was pointing to the women’s softball team and, without hesitation, ten or twelve of the players jumped up onto the bar top and started lip-synching to the song at the top of their lungs. The rest of the patrons started clapping in time. It was obvious that these activities were a regular occurrence, which could explain why the bar was packed on a Wednesday night.
Beth and Mary sang and clapped along, glancing at each other and laughing. The emcee handed the mic to one of the softball players, and one by one they took solo choruses before passing it along. The song ended to a roar of applause and as soon as the next song started, the women jumped down and various men leapt up to take their place. They all started singing and more and more of them climbed up until the bar top was packed. The bartenders stopped serving drinks and stood back to watch.
The emcee had the mic again and the music faded into the background. He made a grand gesture of looking at his watch and yelled, “Do you know what time it is?”
In boisterous unison, the crowd yelled, “It’s Chubby Bunny Time.”
Beth looked to Mary. “What?”
“You’ll see,” was Mary’s answer as she put her arm around her.
From behind the bar the emcee pulled out a huge stainless steel bowl filled to the brim with large, plump white marshmallows. He called out, “Raise your hand if this is your first time here.”
As most of the crowd chuckled, about ten or fifteen people held up their hands. Beth remained motionless, but felt her hand being raised by Mary. Before she could muscle it back down, the emcee spied them.
“Mary. You’ve brought a virgin. I’m gonna have to tell your ex about this. That is, if I could narrow it down to a few…hundred.”
The crowd cheered as Mary shot him a dirty, but smiling, look.
“I’m just jealous ’cause you’re so gorgeous. What’s her name?”
“Beth,” Mary called.
“Well, Beth, come on up here.”
Beth’s hesitation lasted only as long as it took Mary to gently push her toward the emcee. Beth took his hand and stepped up onto the bar. As another “virgin” was hauled up, Beth looked out over the cheering crowd and wondered what in the name of Moses had gotten her to this bar top. She was very aware of two distinct personalities dueling inside her, one that would have normally been home enjoying a quiet evening, and a new alien woman with seemingly no command of restraint.
Beth looked down at Mary. Her face glowed in the light of the bar and she winked the sexiest, most wonderful wink that had ever been directed at Beth. Her knees felt like rubber. She couldn’t concentrate on the instructions from the emcee about the bar game underway.
He held the bowl of marshmallows in front of her and said, “No chewing, no swallowing,” then called, “Hey, Mary? Does Beth swallow?”
Cool as a cucumber, Mary replied, “She’s too much of a lady to tell.”
Look at her up there, she thought. Beth was beautiful. Mary couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to get to know someone so deeply. Usually after a couple of dates or a quick sexual encounter, Mary’s interest abruptly waned. It wasn’t that she was hard to please. It was that she never felt a significant connection, in part because she hadn’t allowed it to happen. That was her fault. Still, she continued to meet women and go out on dates. Some led to bed. Some didn’t. But all of them led to the realization that there weren’t any sparks.
Beth was the exception. Since they first met, Mary’s interest had only increased. Beth was fascinating and clever and sexy as hell. She was a million miles ahead of every other woman Mary had been around since Gwen. Her heart thrummed faster as she watched Beth up on the bar. She knew Beth was still feeling stung by her last relationship; it was evident from her skittishness. Mary’s efforts to gain her trust seemed to be working, but she was cautious.
It would have been too easy to hurry Beth back to her place, or to the Coop, after their conversation at the sex toy store. Yet she wasn’t willing to back off and deny herself these new and scary feelings. She felt more alive in her heart than she’d been in years. Fear and joy careened around her brain like two cats chasing one fly.
She watched Beth cramming marshmallows into her mouth and trying to repeat the “chubby bunny” catch phrase as the crowd clapped and whistled. An explosion of cheers drowned out the emcee as he finally announced her the winner. Beth was too busy spitting out the marshmallow mess to accept a bottle of peppermint schnapps, so Mary stepped up, laughing uproariously as she took it.
“You’re my hero,” she teased as she helped Beth down and wrapped her arms around her. As the kudos and pats on the back subsided, she said, “I’d love to continue our walk through Castro, if you’d like.”
Beth nodded. “I’d like that.”
They gave the schnapps to the emcee’s other victim and slipped out of the bar. Out on the street, Mary threw an arm around Beth.
“How are you doing, chubby bunny?”
“I thought I was your hero.” She feigned hurt but was still laughing too much to be convincing.
Mary stopped her and they stood, face-to-face, in front of a nearby restaurant. Beth glanced at the two tables closest to the restaurant window. One was occupied by a gay male couple, the other by a straight couple.
“You are my hero.” Mary smiled mischievously. Her eyes danced in the soft light spilling from the restaurant’s small awning. “Later, I want you to show me again how you ate all those marshmallows.”
“I didn’t eat them,” Beth said softly. “I took them into my mouth and held them… with my tongue.”
She realized that what she’d just said was the kind of bold comment Mary might have made. But somehow, being with such a sexy, uninhibited woman made Beth feel she could say anything that came to mind. And she was sloshed, not to mention aroused. She knew she should pull the reins back a bit. Fun was fun, but Mary was not the kind of woman who made for a reliable lover.
Beth reasoned with herself yet again that she was planning to enjoy tonight, no matter what. She wasn’t spending time with Mary because she saw a future for them. She had no romantic illusions. Glancing around, she felt slightly self-conscious. The restaurant couples were gazing at them. The gay pair just smiled, but the straight couple stared more intently. Here, right in front of them, were two lesbians engaged in some kind of foreplay. Beth couldn’t tell if she saw curiosity or condemnation on their faces. Gay-bashing was always a threat, but it seemed highly unlikely that this couple would produce baseball bats and chase them down the street, especially in the Castro. If they didn’t want to see gays or lesbians showing affection in public, why eat in this neighborhood? Maybe they were not quite as hip as they thought.
“They seem more interested in us than their Crab Louie, don’t they?” Mary said, also observing the uncomfortable-looking couple.
And with a defiance that was undoubtedly second nature to her, she planted a wet kiss on Beth’s lips. It was quick and delicious, and before Beth could react, Mary was nuzzling her neck, sending tantalizing bolts up her spine. The straight couple looked away, the woman fidgeting and the man frowning.
If this had happened anywhere else, with anyone else, Beth knew she would have been irritated at being made part of the show. But she was keenly aware that there was something special about Mary that not only made her impulsive behavior okay, but exciting and adventurous.
Maybe Mary had placed her under some sort of mysterious spell. Beth already welcomed the thought of mild sexual possession, possibly more. There was no doubt that being here with Mary felt wonderfully irresponsible and stimulating. Certainly anyone could speculate that Mary had some special powers. Powers of enticement and charisma. But Beth suspected part of her appeal was the fact that she lived with such freedom and in-your-face honesty. Her seeming lack of concern with her image entranced Beth. She felt like a devoted student, losing herself in the exhilaration of Mary’s teachings.
Still, she knew she could never be with a woman so unbridled. At least, not for anything serious. Mary was not the kind of woman she would want in her life long-term. She needed a woman who was stable and reserved and predictable. That was the best relationship material.
Right now she was on a wild roller-coaster ride and was not yet ready to get off. She absolutely, positively, did not know where the ride was going to take her—but it didn’t matter. Normally her lack of concern would have worried her. But she was having too much fun and she wanted some new, happy memories to take back home with her.
Regrets be damned.
The air grew damp as they walked hand in hand around the Castro. They shared more stories as they strolled up and down the dark, Victorian-lined streets. Beth wasn’t exactly sure where she was. They were probably not far from the Coop or Castro Street, but all she cared about was that she was a million miles from L.A.
“Come here,” Mary whispered, taking Beth’s wrist and pulling her between the narrow squeeze of two Victorian houses.
Beth’s pulse raced as she laughed nervously. “What’s with you and the ‘come here’ thing?”
“I like getting you alone,” Mary growled, maneuvering between crates, hoses, and recycling bins as she tugged Beth as far back as possible between the two tall houses.
An alarm went off in Beth’s head. Mary was trouble and she was letting herself be led right into it. What was the matter with her? But in a crazy way, she wanted to follow. She had to see where this would take her.
Mary backed up to the side of one of the buildings, drawing Beth close. “Plus,” she said, “you’re driving me crazy.”
At once, her breasts were against Beth’s. They kissed, arms tightly around each other, body to body. Beth shifted her leg for balance and crashed against a full-to-the-brim recycling bin. The sharp clinking of bottles made them freeze. And as they did, a light flashed on from a window above. Beth held her breath, waiting to see what the homeowner would do, but Mary engulfed her mouth again, erasing any concern about their trespassing. From a second-story window in the building right behind, two men laughed loudly, oblivious to the foreplay occurring just below them.
Just as one of the men yelled, “You’re such a lovable bitch, Kenneth,” their stereo drowned out their voices and the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” blared from the window. Somewhere in the back of Beth’s mind, racing between Mary’s breasts and her salty throat, came a fleeting thought that that particular song, playing at this particular moment, probably wasn’t just mere coincidence.
As Mary’s hands roamed the length of Beth’s ribs before pausing at the rise of her breasts, Beth lifted her arms a little to make room for the warm caresses. Mary sucked gently on her neck, her fingers dancing close to Beth’s nipples. Something deep and instinctive took over as Beth ground her hips into Mary and lifted her chin, offering more of her neck.
I can’t help myself, she said to herself, hoping the excuse was good enough to silence the little voice that kept urging her to stop. As Mary’s fingers found the tautness of her nipples, Beth shuddered, sucking in a breath. “Mary…” Her voice emerged as a deep and raspy murmur.
Mary paused. “I love your moan.”
She licked the length of Beth’s neck, down to her collarbone and back up to the underneath of her chin. Beth arched further, driven into hot arousal by the licks and nips and kisses. She found Mary’s hands and cupped them to her breasts, moaning more loudly as Mary gently pulled at her very taut, very attentive nipples.
“Kiss me,” Beth demanded through a wide, satisfied smile.
Mary’s mouth met hers and her hands moved down to the band of Beth’s Levi’s. “You have just the right curves,” she breathed between kisses.
One hand followed the seam of Beth’s jeans, working up and down, closer and closer to the damp join between her thighs. Beth growled into Mary’s throat and lifted her hips, craving more pressure where she was wet and swollen. Mary lightly massaged her through her Levi’s, brushing across her crushed flesh with increasing urgency.
Beth was spinning quickly away to a place she knew Mary was more than willing to take her. She’d just met this woman a few days before and now they were between two strange houses, five hundred miles from Beth’s home, and in some bizarre way it all seemed to make perfect sense. A strange, eccentric, desire-driven lucidity prevailed where Beth had once had doubts and fears. Nothing else needed to exist.
She traced a finger over one of Mary’s hard, fabric-covered nipples, eliciting a deep moan. She relished the sensation of her pants seam pushing against her extremely full lips and rocked under Mary’s light, grazing touch. Mary tugged at the top button of Beth’s 501s. The buttonholes slid easily away from the buttons.
“Yes,” Beth sighed. She wanted Mary to touch her, to feel her wetness.
Mary eased her hand into the tight, warm space between Beth’s legs and groaned at what she found. “You are pure, silky heaven.”
Beth bit into Mary’s neck as she felt her pubic bone cupped. Mary slowly massaged Beth’s mound of hair, her fingers working their way further between her legs. Beth could feel herself swelling. She turned her face toward Mary to catch her mouth. They kissed deeply, their moaning camouflaged by the Rolling Stones, whose haunting, pounding riffs swirled like alcohol in Beth’s brain.
She reached around to cup Mary’s ass with both hands, practically lifting her off the ground. Mary’s silky, wet fingers still hadn’t moved inside, and Beth knew why she was holding back. Mary, just like her, was luxuriating in the heat of this intoxicating moment. Beth savored the control Mary had imposed, and the sheer rush of anticipation it caused.
Firm admonishments scratched at the back of her brain. Don’t do this. Don’t get into this type of trouble. This is not you! But the thought of guiding Mary’s fingers inside her, knowing she’d be steamy hot and wetter then she could ever have imagined, sent bolts of lightning smashing through her brain. From the first time she’d ever experienced this heady arousal, she’d craved the feeling like no other. Nothing equaled the high right before she touched a woman or a woman touched her. It felt like a drug. A drug of such supreme power, she could not resist its affects. Mary’s all-consuming control only made Beth crave more.
She was soaked. Mary matched her gyrations and then, as Beth’s heart pounded in her chest, she felt Mary’s fingers curl up, tentatively parting her.
“I want you inside me,” Beth rattled out, urging more. Her voice was low and scratchy. She felt raw.
Mary eased one, then two fingers inside. Beth closed her eyes as her head spun backward. She heard Mary growl from the bottom of her throat as she slid slowly in and out.
Beth moaned loudly. “Deeper, Mary. Deeper.” And when Mary obliged, she gasped out a fierce, “Yeah.”
Mary plunged her fingers upward, propping Beth more firmly against the wall, as though sensing that her legs were fast approaching collapse.
“We need a bed,” Beth panted.
“No, we don’t.”
“If I come this way,” Beth gulped between words, “you’re going to have to carry me back to the Coop.”
Mary looked into her eyes, smiling. “I live closer.”
Beth was desperate. “Where?”
“Ten thirty-three Temple Avenue. But we’re not going there.”
“Please…”
“No, I want you. Right here.”
And they kissed again, Mary moving deeper inside. Beth got wetter. She’d never had sex in an alleyway. And as far as she could remember, she’d never come standing up. She gripped Mary, squeezing her closer until they both began to tremble. Beth’s legs shook wildly and she stammered one last plea. “Lay me down. Anywhere.”
Mary whispered, “No.”
The excitement of being taken that way sent Beth sailing over the edge. She shuddered and felt Mary’s fingers gripped in her contractions. Her loud moans almost drowned out the Stones as she came once, then again, gushing over Mary’s hand in strong, muscular pulses.
Minutes later, she was still panting, unable to speak.
“I just might have to carry you home,” Mary said.
A wooden housing of electrical meters sat against the wall about two feet away, and Mary helped Beth over, lifting her up to sit on the three-foot-high box. Beth leaned over her, resting on her shoulder. Mary held her close until Beth’s breathing slowly started to regulate.
Beth kissed her, groaning, “I can’t feel my legs.”
“Just stay right here with me.” Mary held her even tighter.
Another light went on inside the building behind them. Voices of a man and woman filtered down from a high window. Beth hoped they weren’t calling the cops, or worse, observing them through binoculars.
Mary lifted her down and helped her stand. She began buttoning up Beth’s jeans. “I think we’ve pushed our luck long enough. Alder will kill me if she has to come bail us out of jail for copulating against someone’s wall.”
Beth raised an eyebrow. Her blood still raced from her orgasm and all she could think about was crawling deep inside Mary. She ached to touch her. “You’re not serious.”
Mary grinned. “Yes, I am.”
Beth’s voiced cracked. “You know this makes me want you even more.”
Mary leaned toward her and whispered, “I hope so.”