“7 Years Passed” Excerpt

Somewhere around 15 years ago (yikes, has it truly been that long?!) I started writing a story titled “7 Years Passed”, taking inspiration from a recent relationship gone afoul. Like most stories I started at that time it never went past a dozen pages before another idea took over and was shuffled to the way-back burner. A recent exploration of a box of old writing brought the story back to the front burner.

Having finished the draft for “She Will Become” I decided it was high time to start finishing projects and began to work on “7 Years Passed”. At first I was fearful I could not slide right back into the main character, Misha’s thoughts and continue the story in the same style. I was more than elated to discover she has been waiting all this time and was ready to help me tell the rest of her story.

Since resuming work “7 Years Passed” has grown considerably in length. While as yet incomplete I wanted to share an excerpt. I am as proud of Misha as I am Tristen, the main character in “She Will Become”. It is my hope that this new character will prove as emotionally evocative and connective as the crew that lived in my head for twenty years.

Proudly, I present to the world: an excerpt of “7 Years Passed”, an erotic f/f novella.

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7 Years Passed

Why are you here, I wonder?  I thought you’d gone on, having had enough of suburban life and housewife drama.  I thought you saw bright lights and the big city on your horizon.

I thought you had another girl on your arm.

Why are you here then, standing across the street, watching me watching you in the flower shop window?  You look out of place for having been gone so long. Your movie star blond streaks and eye candy nail polish give you away as the outsider.  Your foreign-ness is obvious in the way you hold your body- half stiff, half undulating in the common stance used to attract attention in Hollywood.  Even your eyes, at half -mast to suggest a sultry sexual appetite, speak of your not belonging.  They have the wild look of having seen too many secret atrocities of famous peoples’ lives.

I don’t understand.  Why are you here, again, bearing that half smile, being beautiful- not the way you were back then but still beautiful because there’s no other way for you to be- and bringing back the faint impressions of old emotions thought resolved?

I turn away.  You are not here.  I’ve had this walking dream before.  It’s never been this real before but I know… you’re not really here.  You’re off in Hollywood, making B-movies, sleeping with that girl you picked up in Anaheim, living your life the way you always said you would.

But you are here, maybe.  I hear your voice, suddenly calling to me.  I wait to turn- it could be another auditory hallucination- but then you’re tapping me on the shoulder.  I have to turn around, as my heart quadruples its beat.

            This moment is happening…this moment is happening….

There you are, so close I can smell your perfume- something musky, something I don’t know the name of.  You’re wearing make-up and it looks good on you.  Blue always was your color.  I like the silver lipstick, but I can’t look long… you stand too close and all I can feel is the familiar urge to reach out and touch.

“Misha,” you say.  I close my eyes.  It’s been years since I’ve heard you say my name.  I suddenly feel like crying.  I’m at a loss for words.  I used to think if you ever came back I’d give you this eloquent speech about the power of love, about how two people belong together, about how you destroyed my idea of life by walking away, by pursuing a dream I was so obviously not a part of.  Now… now all the words are gone.  I can barely breathe.

            This moment is happening….

“I thought it was you,” You say, half smiling still.  You shift your weight to one booted heel- high heel boots, your shoe of choice.  I make myself nod, trying not to let my eyes drift down your body.  It is a well-mapped territory but it’s not my territory anymore.  “How have you been?”

I try to take a breath.  My chest is heavy.  My knapsack seems to have doubled its weight.  I shrug. “Good, I guess. You?”  I manage.  Your smile widens.  My heart catches.

Why are you here?

“So, so. Hollywood… well, its not-” You halt, look around wistfully.  I’m taken aback.  “It’s not Pine Falls. It’s not home.”  Your eyes come back to me.  I want to ask why.  I want to ask about Janet.  Instead I am silent.  I will let you tell me, if that’s what you want.  I’ve been long done with asking the questions.  “You still live in the same place?”

I nod, remembering how to breathe now.  I haven’t moved since you left, even though the memories continued to live in the house with me.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room would you?  I’m in need of a place to crash for awhile.”

I forget how to breathe again.  A spare room.  For you. In my house. The house we once lived in together, as a couple.  I can’t think, can’t comprehend.  Why are you here?  Why are you asking me for a room?

            This moment is happening….

I should say no.  I suddenly remember Nan.  She won’t like my ex-girlfriend coming back to town, wanting to live in the house we now share.  She’ll be angry.  She’ll think something is up.  She’s so smart.  She knows I never fell out of love with you.

“Nan,” I blurt without meaning to.  You look at me, not understanding.  Then, like the dawn in the sky, it hits you and you nod.

“Oh.  Sorry.  I didn’t even think.  You’ve got a girlfriend.”    Am I going crazy?  You sound disappointed.

I find my voice.  Nan is a distraction from you.  I can talk about her.

“Three years now.  She moved in a year and a half ago.”  We share the same room you and I slept in.  “Where’s Janet?”  Damn, I didn’t mean to say that!  You frown, and then shrug.

“Gone.  We were too different.  I wanted to make artsy films.  She wanted to be in porn.  She said that’s where the money was.  I told her to go and she went.”  You look around again, as if Main Street has changed since you were last here.  It hasn’t changed- only you have.  You shift weight again.  I suddenly feel terribly awkward, standing here.  Nan could come along and see us.  What would she think? “I’ll catch a hotel then. I just thought I’d save a few bucks by staying with you.”

There it is- that tone.  You always were good at making me feel bad for playing it safe.  I nod, pushing that old feeling away.  I’m with Nan now.  You have no power over me anymore.

“Sorry.  I have to go.  Nan’s waiting.”  It’s time to go.  Nan’s not really waiting but I can’t stand here anymore.  There are too many questions I can’t ask, too many things I want to do to you but can’t.  I have to leave.

“Okay then.  Can I call you sometime?”

I barely hear the question but bob my head to it anyway.  I’m turning, walking away.

            This moment is over….

*

She kisses me when I come home.  She was waiting for me, it seems.

She’s in a mood and doesn’t speak as she leads me to the couch.  I usually like it when she takes control like this but not now.  I’m not really paying attention.  I can’t stop thinking about you.

She pushes me down on the couch and unbuttons my shirt.  Her hands are all over me, squeezing my breasts, fingers tweaking my nipples.  She licks my neck, and bites my shoulder.

Why have you come back to Pine Falls?  How did you find me downtown?  Was it by chance or were you looking for me?

Nan licks my nipples and she takes off my jeans and underwear.  Then her hand is between my legs, fingering my clit.  I hardly feel her touch.

I was single for four years after you left.  I was afraid to love again.  You had taken my heart with you.  I wonder if you know that.  Most likely you don’t.  You paid attention to whatever you wanted or needed and I- I was always left wanting.  But- oh, you had talented hands, a skilled mouth.  You were so good at making love.  I always wondered how you got to be so good.

I feel the first spark of desire as Nan slips two fingers up inside me.  Vaguely, I realize it’s not so much a response to her but to the memories of you.

She strokes up inside me and I think of her fingers as yours.  You used to be able to make me cum with a few strategic rubs to my G-Spot.  I wonder if you still could.

She’s pushing in and out now, fingers creating friction.  I tighten inside, eyes closed, remembering.  You used to talk to me, asking me if I liked it, if I wanted to be fucked, if I wanted it harder. You would tease- bringing me up to the very edge of orgasm, then stop, waiting, wanting me to beg for you to make me cum.  When I would, you’d get this sadistic grin on your face.

She adds a third finger and drops down, using her tongue on my clit.  I feel it now- the hot, wet stroke of her tongue.  I take a breath, trembling.  She licks and licks, pulling my clit in between her teeth to suck on it. I’m going to cum soon….

You loved to tongue fuck me, using your tongue- which always seemed so long- like your fingers, pushing in and out as your fingers toyed at my clit, with my nipples.  You said tongue fucking was always the best because you were right there, drinking up the juices as you made them.  You said it was a turn on for me to cum on your mouth.

Suddenly, I’m cumming in huge waves.  Nan is down there, where you should be, receiving what you should be receiving.  I struggle against crying out- I know it will be your name I scream, not Nan’s, and to scream your name would be relationship suicide.

I cling to the couch, body spasming.  I picture you between my legs, licking me clean, and then climbing up the couch to share it with me.  Then Nan is kissing me, her lips and tongue tasting of my own sex, but somehow it tastes different.  These are not your lips.  This tongue is not yours and your own flavor does not mingle with that of my sex.  No, this is Nan…Nan, whom I’ve sworn to love, to hell and back.  But oh…I’ve never stopped loving you and now you’re back.

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