Images in Henna
Introduction:
Exiled for love, Ragini will find it in her new home. But…
Turning on my small electric kettle, I let water heat for Assam tea. Then I turned on some soft music. It drowned out the sounds of the morning coming awake outside, and helped to add to the feeling of being back in India. That was the only thing about my shop I don’t care for, the sounds of passing traffic. At times it is intrusive.
Taking out two bowls from the heavily decorated cupboard, I looked at the brown paste under the plastic wrap. The work of a few hours it was a smooth greenish brown, and when I peeled back the plastic the wet herbal “hay scent” of my henna paste flooded me with even more memories.
Sadly, I was having a lot of those this morning.
Memoires of my older sister, the day before her wedding, her sitting with our mother and our nani, each woman working an arm. The intense concentration on my mother’s face as she tried to do half as well as the shaky brown-stained hands of her mother. A mehndi artist of legendary skill was my nani. Gathered around them like multiple colorful birds were my cousins and sisters, watching the two family matrons applying a traditional bridal design as eagerly as myself. More so, since some of them were closer to marriage age than I had been. I had simply enjoyed seeing the designs appearing on my sister Belindi’s hands and feet.
With practiced hands, I filled my henna cones; hands at work while my thoughts wandered down lost roads. Back to the times before … before …. Pushing those dark thoughts back into the shadows, I listened to the music. Sonam Kapoor’s silky voice making me smile and blink away a stray tear.
Outside, I heard a car pull up and the motor goes silent. With a momentary clinch of hands that wanted to shake and a deep breath to calm nerves, I tried to prepare myself for this day. Mentally. Why, oh why had I agreed to do this? And how was I going to make it through without giving myself away?
The smiling face on the other side of the glass door was my answer to those questions. For that smile, I would do anything.
Anything.
Going to the door, I put on a happy smile to match hers. Not that I was feeling it.
“Morning, Ragini! I brought beignets.” Madeline spun into the room in her normal whirlwind. “I figured the ones waiting could do with something to snack on.”
The smell of fried dough tried to fight against the scents of my shop but incense, herbs, fragrant oils, spices and henna paste are tough opponents. France versus India, a history recreated in scent. I hid a chuckle at that thought as Madeline rambled on.
“Tasha said she would be here by 9:00. Jen said it will be noon before she can make it, and Angela should be here soon.” She sat the white box of pastry down, looked around my shop at the various things that must be so foreign to her and so homelike to me. “I love the changes you’ve made.”
“Thanks.” I looked her up and down. “Nervous?”
“Ah, yes. Extremely.” Madeline shook her head. “How could I have ever let Jim talk me into this madness?”
“Look on the bright side, a Nude Day wedding means you’re saving a fortune in tuxes and gowns.” I let my eyes drop to her feet and slowly back up to her eyes.
“Oh, god! I want to blush to my toes every time I even think about it.” She blushed just to prove that point.
I giggled at her even as I felt my heart flutter and my palms dampen at the imagined image she was going to present, both at her wedding and here in my shop in a few minutes.
“So this will really take all day?” she asked, putting her purse down on my counter. “All day?”
“Every bit of it.” I gave her an apologetic shrug. “The longer the paste stays on, undisturbed, the darker the final images will become.”
Her shoulders slumped a little. “Well, what’s one more day naked this week? Okay, I guess we can get started on me then. Um … do I need to be naked at first?”
“Might as well be.” Oh, how hard it was to hide my eagerness to see her naked behind a bored professionalism. “I don’t want to damage anything later trying to get your clothes off.”
She sighed. “Okay … um, bathroom?”
Smiling at her modesty, I pointed towards the back of the shop. While she bustled off, I finished the last of my henna paste applicator cones. Laying them out, one by one, on a glass topped tray that would not stain. A dozen wooden skewers and some large Q-tips, I use for blended shading, I placed close by. Then I sat waiting for Madeline to find her courage and come back out. Not that I’m at all sure I would be any better if it was me who had to appear before her naked. In a situation like this. But then I’ll never be in a situation like this. Never. Never, ever. Never ever the nervous bride ….
A tap at the glass front door startled me. Angela was there, waving a Starbucks cup teasingly at me. I unlocked the door and let her in.
“Morning, lovely. I hoped I would get here first. Here you go.” She handed me the brown-sleeved cup.
Smiling, I took the coffee and inwardly sighed for my tea. “Your about ten minutes late then. Don’t worry it won’t take me too long.”
“Right. The blushing bride is going to be the tough one, right? She gets all the heavy henna. We silly bridesmaids get the decorative nipple hiding stuff.” Angela looked over my shop for a moment. “Let me guess, she went into the bathroom?”
I nodded, sharing a smile with the freckled redhead. She rolled her eyes.
“Maddy! Get your pale, pasty-looking body out here!” Angela walked to the bathroom door and tapped on it with one of her heavy rings hard enough to make me wince. “Some of us are not getting married this week.”
I giggled at the scared squeak from the other side of the door. When it opened, and Madeline gave Angela a nasty look, I couldn’t hide my smile. With her shirt covering her breasts and half-hiding her sex from my view, Madeline started to walk to the padded stool I was pointing too, then raced back into the bathroom when there was another tap on the glass front door.
Tasha was earlier than nine.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
If my afterlife was not already destined to be spent in Yama’s realm then the next few hours would have sent me there. Oh, it was with such hidden delight that I was soon the only woman in my shop with clothing on.
It took the combined efforts of Angela, Tasha, and myself to talk our reluctant friend out the shop’s bathroom.
I had to keep my eyes and mind on what I was doing once I started to lay down the patterns of henna. But my eyes would drift to the dark patch of hair she was trying to hide with the hand I was not working on. I looked over the top of my glasses, meeting her eyes and then glanced down. I gave her a look that was sympathetic and not at the same time. She took a deep breath and moved the hand out the way. My head down she could not see my dark eyes looking past my working hands to her bare belly, following the curves of her thighs inward to the unhidden mound and its haute couture tuft of hair I wanted to rub my face against. younglesbiansluts.com Oh, the wicked thoughts that rolled through my head as I held her hand and laid down arch after arch, dot after dot. I placed darker lines, heavy with the wet henna paste then cross-hatched a very traditional pattern down her wrist. I knew I wanted to do a slanted line across her palm with the fingertips covered and the ring finger all but blank so her ring will show more brightly.
That so hated ring.
When her left hand was finished I sat back, taking in the whole of her body. Madeline was looking at her hand in delight.
“And the whole of me is going to be like this?”
“Not so heavy, but yes.” I reached out and ran my hand along her shoulder. I hid how much I enjoyed the soft touch from my face. “Here I will place a design that will be more flowery, not so dense.”
“Can you cover my breasts this heavily, so they are not so–“
“Oh, for the sake of Christ on a crutch, Madeline! This is a nude wedding!” Angela walked over from the shelf of scented incense cones she was sniffing and stood before the bride to be. I had a delightful cross view of four breasts. One capped with pale pink cones, and freckles, the other … Madeline’s … a dark wine splash colored nipple. I looked at her breasts and wanted to taste those sultry tips and see if they indeed tasted like wine. “Prude. Get out the way and I’ll let Ragini work on me for a bit. You need to remember, that the people in this room, have no great desire to even see your naked ass, and the only people that will see it at the wedding will have already seen it.”
“Don’t touch the paste or anything with that hand. It will ruin the design.” I warned Madeline as she moved because Angelina all but bullied her out the seat. At her understanding nod, I looked at the woman now in front of me. The body differences were obvious. Angela was slightly heavier, with larger breasts to be sure and her skin was intensely freckled. I flinched back a bit as her arms went wide.
“Make me more beautiful than her …” She gave her chest a shake and her breasts rocked making my mouth salivate. “… so maybe one of those naked groomsmen will take an interest in me and want an after-wedding-reception, interview.”
“Interview?” asked Tasha, sitting behind my register with her dark hand white with beignets’ powdered sugar. “Never heard a one night stand called that before.”
Angela gave her a wink and a grin. “I don’t do one-night stand, I give interviews. I can’t help it if I’ve not found anyone worth a call back yet.”
I joined in with the laughter but was at the same time trying to think up a reply if I was asked about my love life. I had to dodge their questions so often that it as growing to be a reflex. And of course, I had hardly begun to work on Angela’s arm when she looked at my eyes over my glasses and began to ask just such a question.
“So, Ragini … when will we get to see you with some Indian, Prince Charming?” She grinned at my rolled eyes. “I keep expecting one to come riding in on a flying carpet any day now and–“
A tap on the glass front door stopped the question before I could not answer it. Madeline squeaked and dove behind a gold and red dressing screen she had been lurking near. My hands full of henna cone and redhead, I gestured Tasha towards it when I saw it was Jennifer, making a face through the glass at us.
“He would be on an elephant, not a carpet,” said Tasha, as she got to the door. “Hey, Jen. Come on in and get naked, it’s all the rage.”
“Oh, goody. I love naked!” With zero hesitancy Jennifer began to come out her clothes. When her shirt and pants were in a pile she struck the Venus pudica pose. “Wherever is my modesty? I declare, I’m such a naughty minx. What would my dear saintly mother think?”
“Ah, let me think.” Angela placed a finger in front of her lips. “That her daughter had grown up just like her hippy mother?”
There was a general round of laughter that I didn’t quite understand, but joined in none the less. The cultural references, here in my adopted home, at times, pass me by. I try my best but I feel so often like the odd girl out, and I hate that feeling. It makes me always so aware that I am the odd girl. So odd that my mother no longer will acknowledge me. My own family disowned me, the Bandi of Sikar, which now tell people I was never really their daughter. That ….
“Ragini? Are you okay?”
Looking up at Jen, I plastered a smile on my face and nodded. “Just lost in thought. Let me get back to work, I’ll be fine.”
Ignoring the exchange of concerned looks passing among the nude women in my shop, I let my mind focus on patterns. Each had a meaning. Squares, to heal and protect. Lotus blossoms, to awaken the soul. As I work my memories drift back to those wonderful days when my older sisters were married. The gathering women, the happy days of plenty and love. When I was ….
“So, Ragini. This is what they call a Mehndi Rat?”
My jaw dropped open when I looked up at Jen. She was standing in front of Madeline, looking over her bare shoulder at me, waiting for her answer. I could see a twinkle in her eye for having surprised me.
“Yes. In a way, I guess it is,” I said.
“A what rat?” asked Angela. I started to answer her, but Jen beat me to it.
“I Googled it last night. The night before the wedding all the women gather to apply henna to the bride and to each other. They bring food, and listen to music and tell the bride what to expect in her marriage.”
“Hourly demands for sex and farting. Lots and lots of farting,” Angela quirky voice chimed in. Amid the laughter, I popped Angela’s hand when she started to move it. She looked down and grimaced. “Sorry.”
Feeling a sudden invasion of personal space, I looked sideways to find my face inches from Jen’s. I could not help but follow the line of her neck down to the small, dark-tipped breasts with the silver piercings through her nipples that made my own nipples hurt just looking at them.
“Can you show me how to do that?” she asked.
So many memories. Sitting in front of my nani, her old hands guiding mine as I lay down simple designs on my own left arm. Her voice roughened with time and the illness in the throat that took her from me. Rough, but kind with her youngest granddaughter. Gentle chiding when I took an easier pattern than the one she was hoping I would do.
“It takes time to get it perfect, but yes,” I smiled to match her smile. “I can show you how to start.”
“Good. Maybe … I can help with the easier designs?” The hope in her voice was a match for my own childhood memories. When I had pleaded with my mom and Nani to let me help them apply my sister’s bridal designs.
“Tasha, if you will sit here next to Angela.” I picked up a henna cone and held it out to Jennifer. “I want you to do a checkerboard pattern on her arms. Just squares. Then fill them with dots. Like this.”
Moving my cone to Angela’s arm I applied a little pressure and a line draped out to lie on her freckled skin. Then I put another, an inch away and then another next to that. Turning my wrist, I then crossed those lines making the checker pattern. Four dots. Four dots.
“Got it?” I asked.
Jen nodded and then with nervous hands began to try and copy what I had done. Her first line was too thick and I told her to be gentler squeezing the cone. The next one was better. And the next better still.
Going back to work on Angela, I smiled. The joy on Jen’s face was infectious.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Around me, the other woman were now sitting and talking. Naked. Their bodies were covered with designs that, while pleasing to them, they did not know the meaning of. Longevity, love, peace, and luck. Enlightenment, healing, fertility and grace. A dozen simple things with such meaning … to me at least. Flowers, stars, animals, names, and symbols. All that I could pull from my memories.
Before me now was Madeline.
The small, intricate work on her hands was done. The bridal gift is given, even if she didn’t know the full significance. For weeks after the wedding, the design would remain. The less work she does the long they will stay beautiful. But now I was no longer concerned with hands. Not even hers.
I was kneeling on a pillow, my eyes on a level with the dark hair, my hand resting so very close to what I wanted to touch in much more an intimate way. I was placing small arches upon her left thigh completing a flower pattern that I was going to be mirroring on the other side soon. Madeline was blushing furiously that a friend of hers … had to be … so close to her most secret place. So close that I could breathe deep and even smell her, smell her sex. A sweet odor, so heavenly to me that I had given up on the life I had known, given up on all the shall not do’s I had been taught as a child, simply to luxuriate in. And here it was. Madeline, the first friend I had ever had in this country that I now called home.
The woman I had fallen for so quickly, thanks to her kindness.
I could not take my eyes from her perfectly shaved thick turf of hair. I wanted so badly to do here and now what I had done only once before in my life. To touch my mouth to another woman’s neither lips. To taste the wetness upon them and then to touch my tongue to it, not with the hesitancy of that first time but with a glutton’s desire. I even leaned in a bit closer as if I was concentrating on my designs.
“I’m so sorry,” said Madeline, softly. Barely a whisper so low only I would hear it.
Startled, I look up from staring at her sex out the corner of my eye.
“For what?” I asked back just as softly.
“That you have to be, well, that close to me … down there.” She gave me an apologetic look. “I don’t even like it when I get a bikini waxing and that’s a stranger seeing me.”
I smiled at Madeline. Then looking into her eyes and shook my head. “It’s okay. I’m not disturbed by it. It’s simply a part of my friend.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s a part I normally share with the world.”
Going back to my henna, I shrugged. “My own culture doesn’t put our bodies on display naked in public either, but at home, among friends–certainly when they are all of the same genders–it’s not considered a big issue. Or an issue at all.” I casually ran a finger down the outside of her thigh, putting pressure on where I wanted her to turn to allow me to work. “I saw most of the women in my family naked before I was in my teens. Often. Within the home, there is a very carefreeness about nudity. Besides, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re beautiful, Madeline. Jim is going to be very happy to wake up next to you every morning.”
I know I certainly would. I so badly wanted to add that. It felt like a cold sliver of ice in my throat that lodged there when those words wanted to form. Blocking emotion, secrets, and hidden desires all in one. With a sigh that I hid in a deep breath, I moved to her other thigh. The dark brown lines flowed like magic from the end of the henna cone now. I could have laid down the most intricate patterns with no effort; my hand was now so attuned to what I was doing. It had been years since I had done this much henna in one day. Not since the last Hindu wedding, I helped with. A month before I was made to leave my home. Cast out in shame. Tossed like trash into the streets.
Proof of that, my hand began to cramp. Setting down the cone, I massaged my fingers.
“Ragini, take a break. You’ve been working for hours.” Jen left the others and came over to me. “Or at least let me finish this while you direct.”
Sitting back, I handed the cone to Jennifer. She had managed to do some very decent work. Simple patterns true, but decent.
“Just draw even loops.” I watched her hand do quickly an arch of loops over the line I had begun. When she looked at me, I nodded. “Alright, now put some pressure on the cone and put dots–that’s right space them every other loop–but draw them upward. Yes, like that.” Reaching over, I guided her hand down Melinda’s thigh. I then pointed to the design on the other leg. Jennifer understood and began to copy the other side. “Thicken that line more.”
Sitting back, I watch Jen working; a smile graced my lips that she had picked this art up this fast. She had a hand for it, and apparently a love of it.
My eyes slid onto Madeline. Taking her in, the glorious nude skin now draped lace-like in my art.
“Hey, Ragini. How about if we order pizza? You’ll have to pay the driver when he shows up of course.” Tasha laughed.
“Unless we all want to give the driver one hell of a tip!” Angela gave her bare ass a wiggle on the stool she was sitting on. Her face plastered with a lewd grin and her eyes a twinkle. “What’d you say, girls? Shall we give the pizza boy a night he’ll never forget?”
Before I could speak Jennifer piped up. “How do you plan to do that and not mess up the henna? Even yours isn’t fully dry yet.” Then Jen gave up a grin herself. “And what’s to say that the pizza will be delivered by a guy? What if it’s a girl? Or are you willing to give her a good time for a tip too?”
“Ah, not just no, but oh hell no! There is too much delicious cock out there, yet to be sampled, for me to fall back on fingers and dildos. Besides,” Angela placed a henna cover hand over her lower belly, “It would take me forever to get the lipstick out my pubes.”
“EEWW!”
As the other ladies in the room joined in the seemingly universal opinion I got to my feet, looked at my henna stained gloves. Careful not to touch half-dried paste to skin, I shed them and left them in the trash by my counter.
“Ragini?”
“Hum?” Looking to Madeline, I keep my face neutral. “Just taking a bathroom break while Jen finishes your leg.” Looking down at Jen, I nodded “You’re doing great. Keep it up, I’ll be right back.”
I knew eyes followed me. It was not an uncommon feeling. And as it goes, it’s better than having no one be willing to look at you. That had felt far worse. Those few steps to my restroom, under the eyes of my friends, were nothing compared to the long walk down a muddy road with no one acknowledging me. Not willing to even look me in the eye.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
Henna dries slowly.
Naked women, talking about anything that came to mind, filled my shop with laughter as often as not. The heavy smell of my art, that wet hay scent, even overpowered the smell of pizza. As the only woman with clothes on I felt as odd and out of place as I normally do, but this was different. Dream like even. Surrealist moments of embarrassment and pleasure interweaved within me. I wanted them to stay forever letting me enjoy seeing their bodies in such relaxed a moment. Soon even Madeline relaxed with being naked. Her prudery forgotten once the henna hid part of her skin so completely under the many intricate designs. She could not see that it more accented her curves, accentuated her beauty than hid anything. Maddy also did not know what to look for in the designs, the symbols. If my friend could read the Devanagari letters of my childhood she would see so many words now covered her body, hidden as simple designs. Words like love, passion, lust, and desire.
My words.
The words I dared not speak to her, even when the desire to do so ripped at my body like knives. Madeline with her lovely eyes, her beautiful smile and the body I so desired to feel next to mine in the night. To awaken next to in the morning. To make respond to my touch.
“Ragini!”
Hearing my name, I looked up. “Yes?”
“Off in some Hindu dream land?” asked Tasha. “I called your name three times.”
“Sorry? Do you need something?”
“Some of my henna flaked off when I moved.” She had an apologetic look to her, like she had stolen a sip of my soda. “Do we need to fix it?”
Getting up, settling my long kurti blouse to where it should be, I moved over to take a look at the designs. Where I had placed a flower upon the palm of her hand and inner wrist–taking advantage of the lighter skin there to make the larger design more flamboyant–some of my lines had dried and had begun to flake away. The skin under was now stained a burnt orange. As it should be.
“Oh, well it’s ruined.” I shook my head and sighed dramatically. “We will have to start over.”
Tasha’s dark eyes, under that headful of long, braided, pink hair went wide as her jaw dropped, and then she saw the twinkle in my eyes. Her pink painted lips pursed and her eyes narrowed making her wide nose wrinkle. She picked up a bamboo backscratcher from beside her.
“I am going to beat you so hard you will have bruises to wear for the wedding.”
Laughing, I dodged around my shop for a moment with the naked African-skinned woman chasing me, Tasha’s braids flying in a pink storm of whips and several other naked women laughed delightfully. It was a wonderful feeling. Like my childhood re-remembered. The time before the odd feelings took me to dark places. Dark times.
“Hey.” Madeline Sudden voice stopped bother of us. “That’s true, I didn’t think of that. Ragini, who will do your henna?” She looked to Jen, then asked “Can you do it?”
Jen started to nod even as I smiled and shook my head.
“I’ve already done mine.” Pulling my kurti to the side, I showed them the designs on the tops of my breasts that I had done in reverse using a mirror. “I’ve worked on it for the last few days. Except for my hands.” I shrugged. “I left them till I was sure all of yours were done. I’ll finish that here in a bit. “
“Can I do your hands?” asked Jennifer, eagerly.
I grinned at her. “Yes, you may. But … be careful, henna is addictive.”
Jen grinned.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Their artwork dried, the other women left. With many a thank you and comments about how lovely my work was and how they could not wait to see the shocked faces at the wedding tomorrow afternoon. I gave them instructions about how to use coconut oil to darken the stain and to protect it from water. They fluttered out of my shop like a cluster of butterflies, similar no doubt to the ones in Madeline’s stomach as she went to spend her last night as a single woman.
Jennifer was still here and, despite her henna being dry, she had decided to stay naked. As I cleaned up she sat watching me. Her eyes following me around my shop.
“You don’t want to go to the wedding, do you?”
Looking back at her startled, I shook my head. “Of course, I want to go. Why wouldn’t I?”
She gave me a look. “Well, I know if I was in love with someone I wouldn’t want to see them marrying someone else.”
“What? I hardly know Jim. I’m in no way in love with Madeline’s fiancé!”
Jen smiled and shook her head. “Not who I meant and you know it. Maddy.” Her lips quirked into a self-deprecating smirk . “Not that I’m immune to her beauty myself, but Madeline makes everyone fall in love with her. Most innocent people do that to us … that are less than innocent.”
My heart in my mouth, my pulse pushing it there thump by thump, I clenched my hands on the minor hope I felt surge through me. “I don’t know what you mean. I care for Madeline, but she’s a girl … a woman, like myself. We can’t have anything beyond friendship.”
Jen’s answer was a short chuckle. “Well, as you wish, Ragi. Let’s get started on your hands. Shall we?”
Ragi?
Moving to the seat that so many naked bottoms had graced today I eased into the chair, glad for once that I was clothed in the presence of another woman. In fact that Jen was naked made me uncomfortable, a strange sensation. As if her nudity and my clothes made us reversed in control. When she took my hand and began to wipe down my skin, I simply sat. Too stunned by what she had said to react. Mentally ambushed? Yes, a mental ambush from out of nowhere. Her question hitting when I was in a comfortable place, driving to the heart of me. To the place where secrets are kept.
Then she began to work on my hand.
Oh, the memories that came flooding back to me at that time. How long had it been since another woman held my hands and applied henna to me? How many long years where I drifted alone in a place so far away from those memories. Lost alone. Jennifer had managed only a few simple lines when the full weight of it all hit me. Hit me as sudden as her questions had. Madeline’s marriage, my loneliness, the banishment from my family, even this simple act bringing me back to the place I so longed for. All of it was too much.
A wet tear fell upon my hand, splashing over the fresh line. Wet henna paste ran down in a trail around my thumb.
My face was lifted up and Jennifer’s eyes were on mine, hers sparkling with a shared glitter of sorrow.
“I know,” she said.
And with that, the emotional dams broke. Jen pulled me to her and I was enwrapped around her, my hands filled with warm bare skin. I cried. I cried as years of need poured through me, and she accepted all of it. Took it from me in a way that I had not felt in my life since my Nani had last held me. But this was not the comfort of a kinswoman; no this was a woman that knew what I was and didn’t draw back as the women of my family had.
I held her. I could not have turned loose of her, not till I was empty of emotion and my eyes were as swollen as they had ever felt. Not even in the days after I had been cast out was I this emotional devastated. Then I had been in shock, my life was stolen, and the wounds fresh. Not the bone-deep hurt of loss like I felt now but the rawness of a fresh cut.
“I know. I know.”
That was all Jen said, and all was that she had to say as I cried myself out.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Jennifer used my keys to open the door of my apartment. The henna on my hands was still too wet to let me touch things. Holding them away from me, as if I was burned and afraid to touch anything lets it hurt, I let her take my life in her hands. She placed my purse on the counter, hers next to it, closed the door behind us and took my arm. I smiled when she guided me to my own couch as if I was an invalid. Jen grinned at me, recognizing the same thing.
“How do they do this in India? All the women of the household with wet henna hands! What if someone has to go pee? Who wipes?”
I laughed. “We use water to clean, not paper and then a sponge or towel to dry ourselves.”
“That still doesn’t answer who wipes.”
Smiling, I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. A silence fell when I did answer and looking at Jen I could see she was willing to sit all night waiting for an answer. I decided to break it by asking a question of my own.
“How did you know about me?”
Jen shrugged. “Do you have bottled water?” At my nod, she went to the kitchen and brought back two. I eyed the one she sat next to me and then held up my hands. She just gave me a quirky smile while taking a sip. “I’ll help with that. Well, I have been watching you since we met. I do that with everyone around me. My mom taught me to do that. I know that you love Madeline from the way you look at her. I know that you love women from the way you react when it comes up. Like this afternoon. I tossed that out to Angela almost to get that response you gave. But I was also watching the other ladies to see how they reacted. I think Tasha has been with women before as well. She gets this little quirky smile whenever it comes up. That I’ve got a secret kind of smile.”
“Really?” The idea of that lovely woman with another woman was arousing. My mind instantly began to wonder if that other woman had been as dark skinned as Tasha? I could picture such sugar-brown skin brushing against equally dark flesh. But of course, when I thought of it, I knew I wanted it to be my skin.
“Um, huh. Yep. Just look at her whenever women-on-women gets mentioned.” Jen gave me a sad smile. “I hate to burst your bubble, though. I’m afraid I think Madeline is a bit of a homophobe, just based on what I’ve seen.
“Well, I know she is a bit of a prude but …”
“No, it goes beyond that. I could hardly believe when she told me she was having a nude wedding. This is Jim’s idea and I promise he pushed her into it. I worry about her, really. She is too easily pushed into such thing by that man. She gave him control of herself almost from their second date. I don’t have high hopes.”
All I could do was shrug. I had met Jim only twice and was not thrilled with the man obviously due to the feeling I have for Madeline. I had noticed him do things like ordering her drink and dinner without questioning what she might like. Now in a long time couple, he might have clues what she would like, but they had only been together for eight months.
“I worry about her. Not her marriage.”
Admitting that was tough.
Jen nodded. “Yeah. But she will not listen. She wants to be married and have the white picket fence and the two point, three children. Maddy wants that bad enough to let herself be shackled. Eagerly be shackled.” Jen took my water bottle, opened the top and held it up before my face. At my nod, she brought it to my lips. “Don’t let me soak you.”
The cold water flowed past my lips and at my minor nod she tipped the bottle back. “Madeline wasn’t like this in college. She was the one who took the lead. She was the planner.”
“Yes! And then her mom started putting pressure on her for grandchildren. I was there and heard some of those conversations. You would have thought that Maddy was in her late thirties, not her mid-twenties. Her mom was terribly pushy. Every guy she knew had to be dated.”
Sitting back I nodded remembering that time myself. My take on it was a bit different; to me, it was a time when my friend was suddenly not available when I called. Not to go anywhere or do anything together. Madeline always had a date. It was also when her mother began to not give my messages to her daughter.
“I remember,” I said.
Jen nodded. “Tomorrow will be her mother’s victory.” She held up her henna-covered hand, the stain still an orange, but darkening. “I’m part of it. All I can hope is that the whole Nude Day Wedding, Jim wants, will be a good slap in that woman’s face that her daughter is now being led by the nose.”
“Why is he doing this? Do you know him well enough?”
Jen sat back and snuggled up into my couch cushions, sighed, then nodded. “Oh, yeah. See Jim’s an ass. Complete and total. Like us both, he sees Madeline as beautiful. Now we see the inside part of her, but I don’t think he sees beyond her body. Tomorrow, to all his friends, he is going to show off that body and braggingly wave his own dick, all at the same time. Here’s the woman I have gotten, and you won’t ever see better in your bed.” Jen looked down and shook her head. “I would weep if I could but find the tears.”
In the silence that followed, I could find a few tears for my friend Madeline. But, I think I wept them for myself.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
My henna was dry. The midnight hour had passed and still Jen and I sat in my living room talking. So many secrets I had held tight to my breasts I willingly gave to her. She held out her hands and took them without judgment. Then she gave me back secrets of her own.
Jen was bisexual. Had been since she was in early high school. She hides that she likes women because the women she has called her friends were not the type to accept that side of herself. To keep friends, Jen became only half of herself. Allowed only half to be seen.
Jen wanted Madeline herself, but she admitted it was pure lust on her part. Not love.
Jen had a crush on me!
My eyebrows rose to my hairline and she giggled herself into a fit when she told me that and saw my reaction. She waved off my embarrassed stuttering. “It’s lust as well. You are one incredibly sexy woman, and so exotic it gets me hot.”
I could not find words. My own feelings for women were more a desire to taste the ultimate forbidden fruit. To offer my own self to another for such a feast as well. Did I feel true lust for other women? What I felt for Madeline was desire, deep in my bones desire. She filled my mind in every waking moment of the day. Seeing her naked today had been a dream come true to my desires. And yes I wanted to do more than simple touch Madeline, but was it lust?
And looking at Jen, knowing what she looked like under the simple outfit, did I feel any lust for Jen? Were my desires for women directed simply at the woman I had once touched, tasted–and lost my family for–and the woman I wanted but couldn’t have?
My confusion must have been plastered all over my face.
Smiling, Jen got to her feet. Closing the distance between us, she leaned in and kissed me before I knew what she was about. Her lips, far sweeter than the white wine we had been sharing, were hot, wet and gone just as suddenly.
“I should go. Big day tomorrow.” Jen ran a hand through my black hair. “Or I guess I should say today. Get some rest, huh? Naked time will be here soon enough. Happy Nude Day, right?”
She went to walk away and I caught her hand. I wanted to say things but I could not make the words form. Without them, all I could do was tug at her fingers drawing her back to me. Jen knelt down till she was looking into my eyes.
“Yes?”
“I’ve … I’ve only ever been with one woman.” The woman before me gave me a sweet smile and squeezed my hand. “A family friend. We had to share a bed one night; her family came to our home due to a big holiday. I … touched her, that night. She didn’t seem to mind. She let me explore how I wanted. I even tasted her, once. Then the morning came ….”
Jen hugged me to her, and for a second time this day I was in her arms. My mind went instantly to the differences, her lack of clothes the first time, and I needed even more. When she pulled back, I didn’t want to let her go.
“Ragini, you need to move past that event. You need to find someone and simply have some fun.” She smiled and winked at me. “And yes, if you like, I will do a lot more than simply let you explore. younglesbiansluts.com You are too nice a woman to be alone dwelling in the past and on bad things.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
Jennifer brushed my cheek, wiping away a tear. “I do.”
** ** ** ** ** ** **
I’ve never felt more nervous. My hands shook, my whole body trembled. When we walked into my bedroom my pulse jumped. And yet I was so badly wanting this to happen.
Jen turned to look at me, gave me an understanding smile.
“Come here.”
I stepped willingly into her arms and turned up my mouth to her lips. Her kiss was so very sweet. Her touch, hands caressing my back through my blouse, aroused me in a way that nothing ever had before. My memories of that forbidden night back in my parent’s home fell to nothing at the simple feeling of her lips on my neck.
“Relax.”
“I’m trying. I can’t … I don’t,” I could not even make the words form.
“Shhh. There is only need and satisfaction of it here. Pleasure asked for and pleasure given.” She grabbed hold of the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Then she tugged at mine. “Come on, lovely. You’ve seen me naked all day, time to balance the scales.”
All my young life I ran naked. Even into my teens, I thought nothing of bathing in front of my family. In fact that casual nudity had been part of the problem that led me to this place. Seeing the beautiful women of my family and the many guests that often came to visit. Slowly, hesitantly I took hold of my kurti blouse and with a sense of unease pulled it up and over my head. Would she like how I looked? I was certainly different in body from the other ladies I had been around today. Except for Tasha, my skin was far darker than theirs. Only Angela had nipples larger than mine, and hers were nowhere near as dark. And none of the ladies had nearly as thick and dark pubic hair as me.
In fact, I wasn’t sure I was even willing to take off my pants here and now. Jennifer was clean shaven down there. I had not been that bare since I was a little girl and for her to see me with my thick bramble! Was bare what she liked? Would she be disgusted by me? Would she be ….
“Don’t stop,” Jen grinned. “Or, would you rather I did it for you? Or went first?”
I nodded, not really sure which question I was nodding to.
Jen stripped off her pants without hesitation and then her panties followed just as quickly. There was again before my eyes that smooth patch of skin, that swollen mount that makes me breathe so quickly to see. When she moved towards me I bit my bottom lip and stood still when my mind was screaming at me to flee. Her hands touching my lower belly, unbuttoning my pants, hands in places I have not felt in decades. I jumped when the button popped open. She was looking me in the eyes as the zipper purred down. I gasped when she knelt.
“Step out of your pants.”
I obeyed without question her command. More than willing to let her take control of me. I wanted that, needed her to take the decisions away and let me just be. Simply be, and enjoy what I want to happen here but can’t make myself move towards.
I sucked in a deep breath when her hands came to rest on my hips, the fingers curling into the tops of my panties. The elastic rolled then up as she slid her hands down my legs. My bare skin under her fingertips. When my pubic hair caught the cloth and she had to give it I tug I winced at her sudden gasp.
“Wow.”
And there it was, the disgust, the revilement. Her hatred of my thick dark hair, I felt my shame building second by second as she looked at me. Then, when her eyes turned up to my face, I was ready to flee my own bedroom.
“My god, that so beautiful,” said Jen her voice filled with quiet awe. Then her hand brushed through my wiry curls.
Oh, Uie Maa, light take me!
Was this what the only woman I had ever touched intimately felt when my hands had roamed her that long ago night? How could she have not enjoyed this? How could she have not taken my touch as the gift it had been meant as, how? And then Jen leaned into my body and rubbed her cheek in the thick hair, the very thing I had wanted to do to Madeline. When Jen began to kiss her way back up my belly and her mouth fastened upon my nipple I moaned.
Then her mouth, hot and wet was upon mine. Her kisses taking my breath from me, I was wet pottery to her when she tumbled us into my bed. Those lips began to teach me the ways of kissing a woman, a skill that mine did not have but that hers possessed in abundance. Oh, oh my yes, I was so eager a pupil to Jen’s mouth.
When my mouth was filled with the woman’s nipple and my tongue touched those metal barbells I was brought up sharp.
“What?”
“I don’t want to hurt you touching these,” I said my fingers moving to lightly touch the metal.
Jen’s laughter echoed around the room joyfully. She placed a simple pleasant kiss upon my lips.
“You can’t hurt my nipples. I love to have them tugged on. The piercings feel wonderful! I love them; tug them to your heart content.” Her fingers curled in my dark hair and she pulled my mouth back to her pierced nipple. With her encouraging tugs, I began to suckle, then to clamp my lips and teeth to those tender pieced of flesh, my teeth finding the piercing similar to a fork in a piece of steak. Sudden, hard and abrupt when encountered, but I quickly found them delightful to play with.
“Touch me.”
Moving my hand with no thought I ran my fingers across that valley of bare skin–feeling the hint of stubble rough against my fingertips–and then to a fold that was deliciously puffy, and so very wet. Jen smiled at my awkward exploring, then took my hand and began to guild me to what she enjoyed. Which is good, I was lost. I knew what felt good when I touch myself but when I touched there, on her, she flinched and moved from my fingers.
Then her mouth was on mine again and her hand was between my legs, Jen’s lips echoed mine as the feeling of her fingers parting me made me moan. Her hand caressing my most secret of places, the touch so different from my own fingers, brought the moisture pooling from within me. Her fingers moving with a wet sound that after moments she too began to make from my fingering.
I gasped at the abrupt removal of her hand and then she was pushing me hard into the mattress. I watched unsure of what was happening when she placed butterfly kiss on my lips, then chin, then light licks on my nipples. Teasing them even harder. When her mouth went past then and the kisses tickled my bare belly I knew what she was doing. I was unsure if I wanted her to do that. Well, at least till her teasing teeth tugged at my dark hair and her nose parted me. When her tongue pushed into my folds I could not have begged for a more delicious feeling to be done to me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was suddenly scared that she would obviously want me to do this to her, but even as I felt that moment of terror a desire to do that very thing flooded through me, taking any fear away. She was giving me pleasure in waves that shook me from my henna stained toes to my dark black hair. I felt a tingle that made me shake, I could not control the shiver in my legs but her hands gripped my thighs, stilling them. Then she placed a kiss on that thigh and then the other, little nibbling bites that made me jump. My eyes went wide at her chuckle.
“You are so sweet,” she said.
Am I? Ah, what do you say to that?
Then words were taken from me as her hand moved and two long fingers buried themselves inside me. What left my lips next could be best described as a scream. Her fingers were working within me, a twisting motion that took my passion to levels I had not known simple fingers could do.
Her tongue attacked my little bud and, with my hands full of my bed sheets, I begged her to stop but meant nothing of. And she knew that, or simply didn’t care what I wanted. Her mouth was devouring me. I felt turned inside out and … and … and
“Oh, Uie Maa!”
Again and again, I felt my body sending fiery sparks down every nerve ending. Touch them with a feeling that was feather light and aggressively brutal at the same time. I moaned, begged, screamed and with one last throaty cry I drifted into a place where the world was soft and billowy. I felt surrounded by curtains of silk, my mind disconnected from the wet limp thing that was still twitching in spasm. My mind walked through those lands of silk to golden palaces of opulent pleasure. No Raj had such glory build to them as I did to my sex. And within one palace such I opened my eyes to see Jen’s face before mine. A self-satisfying smile on her wet lips.
“Was it that good, Ragi? You took a little nap on me.”
“I–” there were no more words hidden behind that simple letter. Joyfully weeping, I wrapped her into my arms and she chuckled at my laughing tears.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
I had never believed I would awaken curled in a woman’s arms, naked. Nor that I would be awakened by that woman kissing me.
Blinking, I looked at Jen and smiled to match her smile.
“Suprabhaat,” she said grinning.
“And good morning to you too.” I did my best not to wince at her terrible pronunciation. “What time is … oh, we need to get going!”
Her hand cupped my left breast, teasing the nipple. “Yes, alas, my lovely. But I have to ask you something before we go.” Jen bit her bottom lip.
“Yes?”
“Was this a once and done?” The longing in her voice for it not to be was clear. In that tone, I sensed the same lonely desire for a forbidden love that I had felt for most of my life.
My answer was to kiss her.
I could smell myself upon another woman’s lips. Oh, the very naughtiness of that set my body to humming. Glancing over her bare shoulder at the clock, I decided we still had a little time to spare. And there was still a thing I wanted, that we had both been too tired to try last night. With a smile, I eased her back onto my bed and began to kiss my way across her body the same way she had done to me the night before. My eyes stayed with hers and I saw her grinning at me that I wanted to do this for her.
When my lips brushed the rough stubble, I paused and placed a deep kiss into the softness of that wonderful pillow of flesh. She put her hand on my head, fingers tightening in my hair when I let my lips drift down.
My mouth was on another woman’s sex. My lips were touching her in the most intimate place. Then, at her urging, I pressed my mouth into that welcoming valley. My first taste of her was a drink of musky wine, a flavor never before encountered but bringing me delight in that first sample. Then, when my tongue dove between prickly lips and found the source of that flavor, it flooded my mouth. Like a cat licking cream, I settled in to drink from this beautiful woman.
“Mmm.”
Jen’s fingers in my hair was a tightness that was delightful. A pulling that did not hurt but instead gave me a feeling of guidance. She was in control even though I was the one who initiated this. That feeling comforted me, given that I was taking steps I had never dreamed I would dance.
With slow gentle licks and a ravenous aggression, I varied everything I was doing. With no real clue but plenty of enthusiasm, I tried to copy what Jen had done to me last night. Her moans were encouraging, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they were real. There could be no way I was as experienced as she had been, not on my first try. Then, as if that very thought made matters worse, I began to doubt that I was doing anything down here right. Oh, but how naughty this was!
“Ragi?”
I looked up.
“Relax,” Jen smiled at me. “I promise that feels wonder.”
With a smile that must have been silly looking, I nodded, tried to relax and went back to licking her. Then I remembered how wonderful her fingers had felt inside me. I moved my hand and let a single finger slide into the wet, gripping, heated tightness of this woman. Her fingers in my hair gripped me pushing my mouth deeper. I twisted that finger ludely exploring her.
“Use two, maybe three. Oh, Ragi that feels … oh, damn yes.”
Letting her call what I was doing to her, I slipped that second finger into her. My tongue teased her silky nub, lapping at the bundle of nerves, I grinned when I heard her make a sound that I was sure was real. Sucking on her clit, I added my third finger.
Her thighs closed on my head scaring me but her hand would not let me pull away.
“Don’t stop. Please! Oh, please!”
Her begging and trembling thighs told me she was in the grip of the same pleasure that had consumed me last night. Eager to bring her all the pleasure she had given me; I took her nub back between my lips and moved my fingers inside her again.
“Yes!”
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Laying there in my sex-soaked bed of sin, my head pillowed upon Jen’s stomach with her absently brushing my hair between her fingers, I was in paradise. A delightful place I never wanted to leave. But of course ….
“We’ve got to get up and hurry or we’re going to miss Madeline’s wedding.” Jen’s caressing didn’t stop as she said this.
“Would that be such a bad thing?” I asked.
“For us? No, it wouldn’t. But for Maddy, it would be bad. Having two of her friends not be willing to come see her trying to make her life better.” Her fingers in my hair stopped. “That’s her point of view of this, that she is making her life better.”
With a sigh, I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Come on. We’ll get her married off to that twit, dance at the reception, drink too much and then go try to find our own happiness.”
“I don’t think I deserve that … sometimes.”
To confess that, even to a woman I’ve been so incredibly intimate with, was an emotional release. A bearing of a part of me that was far more kept hidden than my body under clothes.
Jen sat up, pulling me up with her.
“Ragi, no. Just no! There is no deserve or don’t deserve. There is only life and getting from it what you want.” Her henna covered hand caressed my cheek, I leaned into those fingers. “I wanted you, I got you. Does that mean I deserved this night of pleasure? No, it means I wanted it and did what I could to make it happen.”
I was thinking of that when she kissed me.
“Come on. Let’s go get naked and embarrassed in public. Angela is bringing her karaoke machine to the reception. ” She grinned at me. I giggled when she cupped her smallish breasts and gave them a shake. “I’ve got to go do my Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction impersonation.”
Smiling, I looked at those pierced nipples. “I think Tasha’s going to be doing that.”
Jen scoffs. “Just because she has the same skin tone as Janet does not mean she can have all the best singers. I am the queen of Janet Jackson karaoke. She can have Gaga.”
With her singing and me laughing we got dressed.
Jen was right, though, she really could sing.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Angela was already bigger than life and twice as loud.
Tasha seemed to want to blend into the background, let the world look past her to the more vibrant Angela.
Jen walked in with a glow around her that reeked of sexual afterglow. She grinned at questions and gave a sly smile as an answer.
Madeline was a mental, emotional, nervous train wreck in progress. It was clear she was going to die of embarrassment long before she even removed her clothes.
And me?
Well, I was … I was … I’m not sure what I was. Lost? Found? Somewhere in-between, maybe?
“Ragini, my henna looks awesome! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Suddenly finding myself in an Angela power hug, I looked to Jen who was chuckling. She motioned for me to give Angela’s plump ass a spank, but I didn’t do it.
I looked around me at the work of yesterday. My art, the effort of hand and eye. I saw the henna paste had long ago flaked off and the reddish stains had darkened to a luscious mahogany brown. Moving over to Tasha I took her hand and looked over the designs. I had spaced hers further apart to make her darker skin contrast. The dark stain had taken well and even with her chocolate skin tone the patterns showed well. She too gave me a hug. When our heads were close she whispered into my ear.
“Madeline’s a mess.”
I gave a little nod.
Moving over to the bride to be, I made a pretext of looking over the henna but I was looking over her. Her decorated hands were shaking, and she had a paleness to her skin that made my darker images stand out.
“Maddy?” When she looked up her eyes were red. “What is it?”
“I don’t know if I can do this. Why oh why did I ever agree to this? I don’t even like wearing a bikini to the beach! How can I stand naked in front of my parents, friends, strangers and a preacher? Oh, what was I thinking? Jim’s having the time of his life and I’m going to be sick.”
I was about to try and give an answer when there was a tap on the door. A male voice came through the cheap wooden partition. “Wedding time, ladies.”
Behind me, the other bridesmaids began to either finish disrobing or began putting on the simple white terry cloth robes they would wear out to where the ceremony was going to take place, in the flower garden. Glancing back I saw familiar skin appearing.
“Give us a moment, please?” I asked when they were ready and Madeline had not even begun to undress. Angela began to say something boisterous, but Tasha took her arm and led her out the room whispering to her the whole time. Jen gave me a smile, a nod and then pulled the door closed behind her.
The tears began the moment the door closed.
Hugging my best friend in the world to me, I offered the comfort of what a shoulder and a few soft words could give. I listened as she told me how she had not slept last night, how she had been sick twice this morning, how she was not feeling like a bride but like a stripper. What words of mine would help when she told me how Jim had sent her texts all morning about how much he was looking forwards to this, how happy he was, and how sexy he thought the whole “Nude Wedding” was going to be? I tried to find some helpful words, none the less.
There was another knock on the door. Another urging to join the wedding.
When Madeline began to remove her clothing I felt like a rapist to be helping her. I gave fake smiles as I helped adjust her veil, the only article of clothing she had. She quickly donned the soft, white robe. The thing cloth around her seemed to give her the courage to go face the new life she was getting herself into.
I handed her the white lily bouquet; most likely her mother’s choice. Madeline hates lilies. She looked at it, tears still hovering behind those lovely eyes.
“Maybe I can use this to hide behind?”
My gaze went to her breasts covered by terry cloth. “You will need more flowers.”
She gave a chuckle that was half sob. “Well, quick call the florist! I guess I’m ready.” She looked at me still fully dressed. “Come on Ragi, nudy girl time.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I watched her leave. Standing there, white robe in hand, I knew that was what I was really doing today. She was leaving me behind. My Maddy, my best friend in the world was going to soon be gone. The parts of her I have loved since we first met were going to be suppressed by her new life till the woman I loved was but a pale shadow. Looking down at that fistful of white bathrobe, I crunched the material in my fists but made no change to the soft cloth. Suddenly I tried to tear it, to rip it. Nothing I did made any difference, all my strength useless against the fabric. That was how everything felt at the moment.
Nothing I did would make the least change today.
The knock on the door, this time, was less pleasant. Impatient. The world wanted to see me naked.
** ** ** ** ** **
My white sandals crunched the gravel of the path underfoot as I walked through flowers. Hundreds, thousands. All bright shades and frilly leafed. Their normal growth trimmed and shaped to make them more appealing to the eyes of the viewer. Tamed, perhaps to make them more vibrant, but tamed all the same. And, there in the middle of the garden by a white gazebo, were the most beautiful flowers of all. My friends.
And the rest of the wedding party and guests. Weeds?
The full extent of my artwork was on display. Bare skin in abundance. Each bridesmaid held a cluster of flowers, also lilies, in hand. I saw that the groomsmen each had been given a small wreath of greenery. The groom, Jim, had his on his head, like a crown of Roman leaves. And he was standing like he was the very Cesar. As I approached I noticed his eyes taking in every hip and curve of the other ladies, and that hint of a smile lurking in his eyes told me something. That had been part of Jim’s idea for this, getting to see Madeline’s friends naked.
When I approached, I saw his eyes cut to me. Jim nudged the arm next to him and a grin of anticipation pass between him and his best man, Mark.
There was a white folding chair to one side and I saw the robes piled there. Moving over to it I took a deep breath and untied my white robe. When I shed the covering, I got the expected response.
“Ah, Ragi?” Tasha made a pass over her body and then pointed to me.
“Hey, what’s up?”
My eyes went to Jim and I leveled him a look of scorn. Walking past the other bridesmaids, no explanations given but a shared smile for Jen, I stopped in front of Madeline. The confused look in her eyes was pitiable. I let my eyes slide down the length of her nude body, seeing my artwork displayed on the loveliest of canvases. I saw the flush to her skin as my eyes came back up and met hers. Madeline bit her bottom lip then looked at my short dress.
“Ragini honey, you’re supposed to be naked. Remember?”
Reaching up I lifted her veil back from in front of her face, revealing those beautiful eyes, pools so deep I wanted to go swimming in them all night. I let myself take in every last freckle on her nose, every eyelash, every curve of her lips.
“I am naked. Now and forever.” Looking over at my friends I knew this might lose me all of them, well not one. Jen’s gaze met mine with assurance. She would be there to pick up the pieces of my shattered life. When I looked back at my best friend I smiled at Maddy’s confusion. Then I raised my voice so all could hear. “Madeline, I’m a lesbian. I always have been. And, I’ve always been in love with you.”
A hushed silence killed the scattering of whispers that had been drifting to us from the wedding audience. I didn’t waste a glance to see what any of them looked like. To see if their faces were full of disgust … that familiar disgust I knew from the past. I didn’t care about their opinions of me. Nor did I care any longer about the vile opinions of those that had thrown me out into the world. No, the only face I watched was the one before my eyes. I interrupted her before her parted lips found speech.
“This marriage is a bad thing for you. It will end tears.” I gave her a sad smile. “When you’re ready to see that and to leave Jim, I will be there for you.”
Her mouth sprang open when I used the two flowers in my bridesmaid’s bouquet to caress her rose-wine nipple, making it perk. Madeline’s henna patterned hand sprang to cover that breast.
Near to laughing at the look on her face, I let the twin white flowers I held fall to lay at her feet.
“I’ve never liked lilies either. And I would have never embarrassed you in public like this gaandu behind me.” My own henna covered hand brushed her cheek. “We’re a lot alike I think.”
Before she could stop me, I leaned those last few feet and placed a soft kiss, upon lips I have longed to kiss for years. It was fleeting but will remain in my mind forever. Leaving her shocked to her core and speechless, I passed the other bridesmaids. Jen caught my hand and gave it a squeeze. Tasha looked at me uncertainly. Angela … Angela had that look that I knew so well. And she, unlike Madeline, was not at a loss for words.
“Never would have taken you for a lezzy.” Angela curled her lip a bit, almost as if she smelled something rank. “Makes my skin crawl now to know how much I let you touch me, yesterday.”
Stopping in front of her I took a deep breath. Turning my head slightly, I looked her up and down. “Angela, I hate to tell you this … but that dress makes you look really fat.”
Jen’s giggling laughter followed me down the aisle as I left the wedding.
