"Yeah, I can tell," she murmured, moving her fingers down to undo the buttons of Jenny's shirt. Soon the two halves separated, revealing creamy white skin, her breasts too small to bother with a bra. Laura pressed her down on the couch and began running her lips along the exposed collarbone. She felt Jenny's fingers sink into her hair and guide her lower. "A bit eager, Jen?"
"Stop teasing me !" Whatever else the therapist might have wanted to say was lost when soft lips closed around her nipple and began suckling.
Laura moaned against the breast she was playing with and pressed her hip against the body squirming beneath her. "I miss this," she murmured, kissing her way across Jenny's chest to lick and kiss the other nipple. Feeling a tugging on her shirt, she sat up and stilled the therapists wandering hands.
"You're not gonna fold it, are you?"
Laura stopped unbuttoning her shirt and looked down at her ex-lover. "You know I don't like wrinkles." Removing the shirt, she folded it neatly and set it down on the coffee table. The bra came next, the cups folded one within the other. Jenny tugged her own top off and let it go sailing across the room.
"You know I hate that," Laura said, looking pointedly at the rumpled shirt.
"And I hate the way you have to fold everything." Jenny let her fingers comb through Laura's black hair.
"I am a bit neurotic about that, aren't I?" She leaned down and let their lips brush together. "How did you ever put up with me?" "Well, you could have worse faults than being an obsessive compulsive."
"Is that like being anal retentive?" the writer teased as she pressed her thigh between Jenny's legs, pleased with the resulting moan. She planted kisses along the therapist's jaw until her lips found an ear framed by soft brown hair. "I think we can find something better to do than bring up each other's faults, don't you, my little analyst?" Laura flexed her thigh muscles to further her point.
"Y-yes, I think we can," Jenny agreed, her breath coming in short pants. "Don't tease me."
"I thought you liked being teased." Laura grinned devilishly before lowering her lips to her ex-lover's breast. "And teased and teased "
Crystal whimpered and thrashed about in her bed for several minutes before the nightmare became too great to bear and she scared herself awake. Heart pounding, she looked around in the darkness, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. The red numbers of the alarm clock glared at her, taunting her with the later hour. Fuck, not tonight, she silently pleaded as sleep continued to elude her. Frustrated, she sat up and reached for her cigarettes and lighter. Seconds later the bluish gray smoke swirled around her head. It's just because it's my first night in a new place, she told herself. The thought failed to give Crystal any comfort and she found herself turning on the lamp, letting the pale yellow light cast away the shadows and help dissipate some of her fear. She looked at the clock again. Guess Laura isn't coming back tonight. Setting her cigarette in the ashtray, she opened the drawer of her night stand. A small metal pipe and film canister were removed along with an incense cone and holder. After making sure the incense was lit, Crystal filled the pipe with the marijuana hidden in the film canister. The urge to numb out her feelings was too strong to resist. As her body finally relaxed under the pot's influence, the images from her nightmare eased in their intensity. Her vision blurred and she wiped her the back of her hand angrily across her eyes as the tears began to fall.
It had been almost two months since she last had a nightmare and there had been a tiny sliver of hope that they were gone forever. Should've fucking known, she thought sourly as she repacked her pipe. The bad dreams, the memories that caused them, had been with her for over twelve years now and Crystal feared they would never leave her. The drug kicked in hard after her third bowl and when sleep finally reclaimed the stripper, it was without the nightmares.
Laura arrived home the next morning to find Crystal sitting on the deck, smoking a cigarette and reading the morning paper. "Good morning." "Morning," the stripper replied, setting the paper on the table.
Laura frowned at the haphazard way the sections of the newspaper were stacked. Doesn't anyone believe in putting things back the way they were? she silently mused. "Are you done with this?"
"Yeah." Crystal took a long drag of her cigarette and flicked the butt over the railing. "Hey, you mind if I get a new shower curtain? I don't like the one you have."
"Um sure." Laura shrugged her shoulders. "That one's only a few months old."
"Yeah but I can't stand all those frilly flowers and stuff." The stripper stood up and tucked her cigarette pack into the pocket of her jeans. "I'll pick one up this afternoon on my way to work."
Looking at the bust straining against the cotton shirt, Laura flushed at the memory of Crystal swaying her breasts for the crowd at the Tom Cat Club. "So where is it that you work at?" she asked, hoping to start something resembling a conversation between the two of them. "Downtown," Crystal replied, swallowing down the rest of her coffee.
Laura let the deliberate evasion slide, sensing that the topic was not a comfortable one for the younger woman. "I'm picking up tacos tonight for dinner. Would you like me to pick some up for you as well?"
"Naw, I don't do rabbit food." Crystal glanced at her watch. "Gotta go."
"Well, have a good day." Laura received a noncommittal grunt in reply as the stripper walked past her and into the townhouse. I can't believe I agreed to this, she thought to herself. Her eyes fell upon the mess on the table. Crystal had left behind her coffee mug, a small plate filled with crumbs, a bunched up paper towel, and the disorganized newspaper. Unable to leave a mess, Laura took the dishes to the dishwasher and straightened out the newspaper. When she poured herself a cup of coffee, she spotted a ring on the kitchen counter. You can't take the dishrag and wipe down the counter? Laura muttered curses for several minutes while cleaning up the counters and stove. When her task was finished, she picked up the phone and called Peter's office only to find that he had taken the day off. She called his house.
"Hi, this is Peter and Michael. We can't come to phone right now, please leave a message beep."
"Peter, where are you? Call me when you get in." Unable to vent on the one person she wanted to, Laura dialed the number to Jenny's office.
"You're lucky Mrs. Cranston cancelled," Jenny said when Laura walked into her office. "I've got forty minutes before my next appointment. What's up? Still having problems with the roommate from hell?"
"She's driving me nuts, Jen. The woman doesn't know the meaning of cleaning up after herself." Laura flopped down on the couch and sighed. "She messed up my paper and I swear she's allergic to putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher."
Jenny nodded, familiar with her ex-lover's obsession with cleaning. "Is she really a slob or is she just not as neat as you are?"
"I'm not asking her to mop the floor every day," the writer defended. "But would it kill her to wipe down the counter? You should have seen the bathroom." Not giving Jenny a chance to interrupt, she continued. "Do you think she could have draped her towel over the shower rod to dry? No, of course not. She left it bunched up on top of the hamper. Not that there was any room on the rod to put the towel."
Jenny closed her eyes, not really wanting to ask. "What was on the rod?"
"Panties, if you can call a little triangle and dental floss panties. How can she be comfortable with that thing stuck up between her cheeks like that anyway?"
"I don't think those are designed for comfort, Laura. They're probably for her job."
"I don't care, they don't need to be hanging off the shower rod."
"Would you prefer she put up a clothesline and hang them from there? Obviously they aren't the kind that should be put in a dryer. Not everyone wears sensible white cotton panties," Jenny reasoned. Laura frowned at the obvious logic in the therapist's words.