Sapphic Voices Romance

DYING DECLARATION

Part One

This Story is definitely "adults only" and is an unusual erotic tale.

This was, I thought to myself as I dialed, the second strangest phone call I have ever made.

What was even more bizarre was that the strangest phone call I had ever made was only two months ago. Fifty-one years old, I thought sardonically, and breaking personal records right and left.

That call two months ago had been to my son, who lives with his new wife in Colorado. I heard the words of that conversation echo in my mind, clashing with the soulless, digital beeps of the numbers I was dialing. Brian, it looks like I have cancer, and it looks like it might be too late to do anything about it…It was astounding really, how when I made the phone call, it felt strange saying the words, and not heart wrenching like I thought it would be.

He had taken time off from work, bless him, and flown down to be with me, knowing I had no one else. But what could he do? We cried together, held each other, took a couple of long walks, and he promised he would be back, and spend as much time as he could, and bring Gina along. There were no grandchildren in my life, and as much as I wanted them, I was also relieved that they were not going to be around to attend my funeral.

Pancreatic cancer, the oncologist told me with a sympathetic shake of his head, was the toughest one, because it creeps up on you and doesn’t let you know it’s there until it has the knife to your throat.

In the past two months I had been through it all: anger, frustration, sadness, self-pity, and then, finally acceptance. Once I got through that obstacle course of emotions I was doing what I should be doing—living. Next month was the Alaskan cruise that I had never taken, and two days after that, a skydive. Yes, I was pulling out all the stops. It would only be a short time, I know, until I would be too weak to do all this stuff. Make the “to-do” list now, I committed to myself, and have these experiences before it is simply too late. A month ago, I couldn’t wake up and make it to the kitchen without stopping to cry. Now, I got out of bed quickly, shook off the pain, took my medication, and cursed the five hours of sleep, wishing there was a way to live without it, and eager to drink in as much of this existence as I could before God took me out of here and to the next level. This was the new Susan Orlander, and my only regret was that I hadn’t started living like that eight years ago, when my husband and I divorced. Better late than never, I suppose, but gosh Susan, talk about late. I laughed out loud at myself when I thought this. I loved to laugh, and I resolved to laugh as often as I could while I had the strength.

I had about eight thousand dollars to play with, and the rest, about twenty-five thousand or so, was earmarked for Brian and Gina. Start a college fund for my little grandchild, I told them. I’ll take a chunk out for myself and be selfish for the last few months of my life.

The phone was ringing. Maybe this is the strangest call I have ever made, even eclipsing the notification call to Brian. I’ll just have to wait and see.

Three days ago, watching TV late one night I saw a show with that had an odd scene in it. Two women walk out of a bar together, talked for a few moments at a car, and then start kissing passionately. It stirred something inside me. I had always had fleeting fantasies, and even a few dreams, of being with another woman, but had never done it. I talked to a therapist and mentioned it, and she didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

“Most women have the fantasy, or at least the curiosity, Susan,” she had said. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t mean your lesbian, or bisexual. Most women never act on it, and you probably won’t. You’re married, you have a family, you have a conscience, and you just won’t risk it.”

And she was right. I didn’t. But that was when I was married, when I carried around all those layers of concern and appropriateness. Now, I was the sentenced prisoner, being asked if I wanted a last cigarette before the blindfold.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I would. Do it, I told myself. Like the Alaskan cruise and the skydiving, just do it.

But how to go about it, I started to wonder? Hang out in lesbian bars? I couldn’t do that. I didn’t even like heterosexual bars that much. I mean, my physical appearance is not the issue. For a fifty-one year old woman, I was in good shape. I kept myself pretty fit, and though there was a little sag of my breasts, and the hint of spread in my backside, I was still shapely, and pretty clear of wrinkles. I was still attractive. I know because men and women alike had told me so.

Besides, I don’t think women would put as much emphasis on looks. Still, the bar scene was out. So what, then?-- approach a good female friend, and say, “Hey, I want to jump in bed with you because I want to experience a woman before I die!” The lezzie bar might be easier than doing that to a true friend.

And then it hit me. I didn’t want to hurt a friend, risk an emotional development and then die on someone, but I wanted to feel a woman’s body, feel what it’s like to make love to another female. The only choice was, at first, distasteful, and then, like the evolution of my emotions about dying, totally reasonable: A call girl.

It was time to hit the yellow pages. With someone who does this professionally, several aspects of my search are eliminated: no hunting, no rejection, no embarrassment and disrespect of anyone I know, and no long games of persuasion. I pay her, and she comes to me. And I certainly didn’t have to worry about contracting a deadly disease. I was immune to everything now. But were there call girls who would do this? I was about to find out. The second strangest phone call of my life was being answered.

“Angels On Call, how can I help you?” The woman’s voice sounded professional and calm.

I cleared my throat. Just be direct, I told myself. The worst they can do is hang up. “Hi,” I said pleasantly, as if I were about to order a gift basket for someone, “I was uh..wondering if you have any women there who, ah, would spend time with another woman. Me, that is.”

“Yes, we do,” she said, not sounding surprised at all. “I have a few girls who will do that actually. Is this for a threesome, with you and a guy, or….?”

I smiled. That must be fairly popular, I thought. “No, just me.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Yes, I have a few girls available.”

Girls available. What an odd sounding phrase, to be spoken to me. “What do you need from me, I mean where do we go from here?”

“Well, hon, first of all, is there any type of girl you are looking for? Specific physical things, race, size, hair color...?”

I let out a little laugh. Look over the menu, Susan, and pick an entrée. “Well, I don’t know, I mean I’m assuming they are all pretty young and pretty attractive—“

“Yes, they all are that,” she joined me in the little laugh, and I was much more comfortable now.

“I just want someone who has umm..experience. That won’t feel uncomfortable with me, you know—“

“Don’t worry. I’ve got just the girl. Raquel. She’s twenty-four, and pretty open-minded, and I’m pretty sure she’s bi.”

“Hm. Well fine, now umm..how much is all this costing me?”

“There’s a flat fee of $300 for her to come out, and that’s for an hour and a half with her. That’s just for being with her. Anything other than companionship you have to negotiate with her. Your activities and time you’ll discuss with Raquel, and if she requires more, than you work it out with her.”

Raquel. A shiver went through me, and I already was fascinated by this mystery call girl.

There would be more than an hour and half. I wasn’t a guy, who wanted to “get laid.” I wanted an experience, one I could smile about on my death bed, which was currently being prepared by the guy with the hooded cloak and the sickle. I knew already this was a good decision.

I paid the flat fee over the phone with my credit card, and supplied my address, and directions. The woman assured me that Raquel would be arriving within an hour to an hour and a half. My house was a little ways out of the city, and it would take her a while to get here.

I tingled with excitement. There was so many unanswerable questions about all this, bridges I knew that had to be crossed before we really found out where we were going. I was journeying into the grand unknown in just a few months. Why not get some practice?

I walked through the living room and made sure it looked neat, then I got into the shower. Just my nakedness, the water rushing over my body, and the certainty that a woman was coming here, to my house, to introduce me to my first lesbian experience, aroused me tremendously. I had a light, dancing feeling in my chest. My fingers went to my sex and stroked gently, but I resisted the urge to masturbate. I wanted to save my sexual energy for what lay ahead.

I toweled off and went to my closet. What to wear? I laughed at myself. I’ve had to dress for many different occasions, but never for the prospect of a call girl coming to my home. I chose a cotton lilac drawstring skirt, knee length, and a simple tan crinkle tank top. I would skip a bra, and with a pair of yellow cotton panties under the skirt, that was it. I decided to keep it basic. Together the look was relaxed (much more than I was!) and almost earthy. The skirt and top went nicely with my long silver hair (such a better word than “gray”-- I had stopped coloring it two years ago, especially when people commented on how nice it looked long and natural). I was home. My house was earth tones, Mexican tile, and wood. Ceiling fans with rattan blades, and big Afghan throw rugs. I wondered what Raquel, probably used to meeting men in hotels, would think of being here.

I put a fingertip-sized dab of my favorite musk behind each ear, and one in between my breasts. A light dusting of blush on the cheeks, and only a tiny bit of eyeliner, and I was done. No lipstick. I didn’t wear it often anymore, and didn’t really need it. My lips are thin, and naturally pursed in the middle.

I turned both ways in the mirror. Not bad, Susan Orlander, for an over-50, dying broad.

Almost instantly, I regretted the phone call. A vision of a “prostitute”—that’s what she was, wasn’t it?---pushed it’s way into my mind’s eye, like a burglar coming in a window. A saw this pretty, pouty, overly made up girl, eyes dulled by robotic sex, chomping gum and counting my money. She’d go through the motions with me, because I was paying her.

Well, if she turned out to be like that, I would just consider the three hundred dollars a gambling loss and ask her to be on her way.

Feeling the hammering of my jugular veins, I went to the living room, and put on some soft classical music. Then I thought about it, and wondered what she liked. Screw it. Nervously, I switched the stereo off completely. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 3:05pm. She was scheduled to arrive right around now. The woman on the phone said about 3pm, give or take for traffic. Relax, Susan!

I headed to the kitchen and decided to open a bottle of wine. On the way, I heard the gentle crunch of tires on my gravel drive, and peeked out the window. My heart thumped faster in my chest as I strained to see who was getting out of the shiny blue Nissan sports car, and then I decided to wait until she got to the door.
I went to the kitchen, uncorked a bottle of Merlot, and waited for the doorbell to ring.

I opened the door. Well, she was beautiful, alright.

“Hi, are you..Susan?” Her eyes swept me quickly, but met my eyes and stayed there. The woman on the phone at Angels On Call had not asked my age, and I was wondering just how surprised Raquel was.

“Yes,” I smiled “And you are Raquel.”

“That’s me.” Her smile was bright, charming in fact, and her demeanor caught me off guard. She did not in any way fit the bored, gum-chomping sex tramp that my brain had feared.

Raquel came in and I saw her eyes sweep the room, taking it in as she set her purse on the sofa. She was dressed in a white body hugging tube dress that outlined a nearly perfect body. Her breasts were big, but looked natural, and well, she was a knockout. She was petite, a couple of inches shorter than me, and reminded me of Meg Ryan in her early years, with the same type of long haircut, only Raquel’s was light brown with blonde highlights, flowing over her shoulders in straight, silky strands, out of which peeked a pair of gold hoop earrings. She looked sexy without looking cheap, and I was relieved for that. Her green eyes were calm and focused as she accepted my invitation to sit. She crossed her legs.

“Well, this is different,” she said, smiling softly.

“Not as different as it is for me,” I said, causing her to laugh a little.

“Ok, so let’s get the business out of the way.”

I nodded.

“How long do you want me to stay?” she asked pleasantly, her head tilted to one side. “That is, if you know yet. If you like, we can spend the hour and a half you paid for, and you can decide then, or whatever. But I need to have an idea of how long our, umm..session is, and what you are looking for.”

I had already thought about that, and I knew the answer.

“I’ll make this easy,” I said, swallowing hard. But it wasn’t easy. Not for me. I took a breath, and took the leap.

“I want you to stay until tomorrow morning,” I said, holding her gaze. Her eyebrows lifted when I said this. “And,” I said, glancing away and then back to her, “I want you to be..um…willing to do everything, and anything with me.”

She nodded slowly, “Everything and anything…” she repeated, looking my body up and down quickly.

“Look,” I said, “one thing I want to be clear on, Raquel, please. I have a son your age. If my being fifty-one years old is somehow unpleasant to you…well, that’s fine, I really won’t take offense. I just want you to be comfortable with me, and relaxed enough to just be…adventurous I guess is the word I’m looking for.” I watched her carefully.

She nodded. “I think I understand. Adventurous is not a problem, Susan. But know that I have limitations—no animals, no children, no scat.”

“You don’t have to worry about me being involved in those first two—what is ‘scat’?”

She forced a smile, then closed her eyes. “Poo-pooh. Crap.”

I flinched. “Oh god, no. People actually ask you—“

“Yes, you would be amazed what people have asked me to do. But I don’t deal with any of those three things, under any circumstances, no matter how much money they offer.”

I liked her for that. “I’m not into that either. I just want to be able to let loose, and take some time, and relax, and just do things with you I’ve only fantasized about. I want you to relax too, not feel like you have to pretend anything…just be yourself, and be open to whatever I want.”

She looked at me deeply, and said quietly, “You got it.”

Her certainty filled me with a deep thrill, and I had to take a long breath. I felt my lips getting dry.

“And as for your umm..age..Susan, you look lovely to me. I mean, you look great, you have nothing to worry about. I think your hair is gorgeous, by the way,” she said.

What a relief. “Thank you,” I replied. “Before we go on, would you like a glass of wine, or something else?”

“I normally don’t when I’m working, but it sounds nice. If you’re going to have a glass I’ll have one with you.”

I came back with two glasses of the Merlot, and I sat closer to her.

“So,” she said, wanting to get the numbers thing out of the way, which I was glad for. I wanted that part to be settled too. “You want me overnight, and you want me all the way.”

It sounded weird when she said it that way, but yes, that’s what I wanted.

“Yes,” I said.

She stood up with her glass, and walked slowly by my curio shelf, looking at the collection of copper miniature sea creatures, pictures, hand-made wood coasters from Brazil, and other knick-knacks I had gathered in my travels. Then she sauntered over by a painting of a street in Key West, a sleepy scene of coconut trees shading pink and white houses. I watched her as she walked, obviously doing some calculating and assessing as she moved gracefully through my living room. She was an alarmingly pretty young woman.

She took another long sip of wine, turned and walked to me.

“Ok. I’ll need two thousand,” she said. She looked at me almost with a glint of worry, as if I would back out, or try at least try and haggle her, but I didn’t care.

“Two thousand,” I repeated with a nod, and fished into my leather portfolio. I opened a large envelope, and counted out twenty one one-hundred dollar bills, and handed them to her.

She nodded, impressed, and smiled as she carefully put the money in her purse. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m all yours, now,” she said, spreading her arms and laughing gently. “Do you want me to get undressed now, or…?”

“Let’s take a little walk, if you don’t mind. I want to show you my garden. Get the feel of the place with me. That would make me comfortable first.”

“That’s what’s important,” Raquel said, “you being comfortable, and enjoying this.”

Her green eyes, the way she said that, put me at ease. I opened the sliding door that led to my garden, and she stepped outside. Once we began walking the stone footpath, I took her hand. It felt good in mine, soft, and small, and the way she gave mine a little squeeze. Our shoulders brushed as we walked through the lush, winding path that snaked through my acre of back yard.

It was a sweet, relaxing walk, during which I explained my fantasy, my unfulfilled desire, to be with a woman, but I didn’t tell her about the cancer. She really didn’t need to know that, and it might freak her out, I figured.

By the time we got near the end of the footpath, which ended at my pool, I had a burning desire to kiss Raquel, and find out what a woman’s lips felt like on mine. I turned to her, and took both her hands now. She looked at me and smiled. I’m sure it was a look she had probably ray-gunned a thousand men with, but right now, it was for me, and it was real, and it felt deeply erotic to be here, in my garden, with a woman who was-- for a little while anyway—all mine.


She slid into my embrace, warm, silky and fragrant. At first it had all the characteristics of hugging a close friend, or a sister—until the kiss came. It was delicious, sensual, and went almost instantly from a hesitant tasting to full, unabated deep kissing—we devoured each other’s mouths, our tongues stabbing, probing, and her body pressed warmly to me. I felt a new host of sensations sparkle inside me.

We kissed there at the end of the stone footpath for at least a full two minutes, exchanging soft moans into each other’s mouths. Was she acting, I wondered?

When we pulled apart I looked into her eyes, and if she was acting, she deserved an Oscar. Raquel truly seemed to be enjoying herself. I told myself to stop worrying about that. If she was acting a little, so what? Just enjoy it, experience it.

“Would you like to take a little swim?”

“Sure,” she said, and I was so grateful she didn’t say something like, “hey this is your show, whatever you want.”

I really wanted her to undress me. So, Susan, tell her you want her to! You just handed her two thousand dollars. She’s going to say “no”?

“I would love it if you took my clothes off.”

She grinned. “So would I.”

Raquel unbuttoned my tank, and slid it off my arms. As she did, she asked me, gently, “Susan, you’ve never been with another woman, ever?”

“Never,” I said. I didn’t count the slumber party with my best friend, when I was fifteen, and my lovely pal Teresa rubbed my pussy in the dark, whispering, “Doesn’t that feel great?” Oh, yes, it had, and so I had done it to her, and we giggled, and nuzzled, and rubbed, and eventually went to sleep. Hardly a woman to woman, lesbian affair.

“You have, though…yes?”

She nodded. “Many times, but very rarely..this way.”

“Work wise, you mean.”

“Right. I’ve had two threesomes, you know, a guy wants to fulfill the fantasy and have his girlfriend be with another chick. Like that.”

“And you’ve been the other chick.”

She laughed a little. “Yeah. Only once have I had a job that was just girl on girl.”

I was fascinated to know who the woman who called was.

“What kind of woman, was it…curious, like me?”

Raquel took a moment to softly caress my breasts, but she could tell I wanted to take this slowly, so she slid her hands down to the drawstring of my skirt, knelt, and untied it.

“It was a lesbian business woman. She was here on some kind of convention, and had just gotten a promotion. They wanted to surprise her with a girl in her hotel room.” The story enthralled me. What a secret world there was out there.

Goosebumps erupted on my legs as she helped me step out of the skirt.

“Ta-da,” Raquel sang. “I was the surprise girl.”

“Did you find that exciting?”

“Actually, I did.”

“And her?”

She peeled my panties down, and off, and felt a naughty thrill, being naked in my back yard, with a beautiful young woman, fully dressed—for now—disrobing me for all nature to see.

“Oh she was surprised all right. It was pretty hot.”

“My turn,” I said, eager to get her—my surprise girl--out of her clothes, and she smiled softly as I relieved her of her snug fitting dress, heels, and thong panties. I took a moment as I dropped her panties on top of the pile of our clothes, to look up the length of her body and admire it. What a body. I sighed deeply. Oh, to be twenty-four again! Stop it, Susan, I joked darkly with myself. How about making it to fifty-two instead!

“You are truly blessed, Raquel,” I told her.

I took her hand again and we went down the steps into the irregular shaped pool. I had this built years ago, and it had a coral waterfall and grotto that was really lovely. All around were trees and shrubbery, and my neighbor could see nothing, unless they were at a particular spot of their fence, bending down and peering between the bougainvilleas.

I haven’t had that much fun in a pool since I was a teenager. We swam, chatted, and then splashed each other occasionally, her following my playful lead. Then, we would just spontaneously drift together, and hug each other, and kiss softly. I tickled her at one point and she shrieked, swimming away, then running at the shallow end while I chased her, and we wrestled playfully, trying to tickle each other, laughing like school kids. A couple of times, I would lay back into her, and she would hold me and we drifted. It felt so good, her breasts against my shoulder, and her kissing me teasingly behind my ear.

We went on and on like this, teasing, drifting, kissing, splashing, hugging, for nearly forty-five minutes, and the tide of my desire had risen so that I knew the teasing had to end. My womanhood was warm and tingly, even under the water. I swallowed my nervousness, and patted the edge of the pool, near the top step.

“Come sit up here for me,” I said to her.

Raquel moved up the steps and sat on the edge, one leg dangling in the water, the other on the top step. She watched me silently, a smile that looked like curiosity on her face, as I moved between her legs.

What does she think of this crazy lady, I wondered, old her enough to be her mom, splurging like this on sixteen hours of total taboo?

I had my feet on the bottom of the three foot depth, and she leaned back, her hands at her sides. I looked up at her, and she knew what I wanted, so she pulled the foot that was on the step out of the water, and planted it, glistening with beads of water, on the pool’s edge. Her closely trimmed, beautiful pussy, dripping gently from our swim, was open in front of me.

I leaned up, positioned close to her, and licked one breast, then took it hungrily in my mouth.

She hummed her approval, leaning her head back with her eyes closed.

I slid my arms around her waist, and sucked her breasts, tasting pool water along with her soft, sunny-smelling skin. It was wonderful. I could feel my own nipples gently pressing against her. Slowly, I moved my mouth down, sampling her taut, young tummy.

Soon, my lips were brushing the thin tan line that ran along her pelvis, dipping slightly above her mound, and then swooping back up to disappear in a tantalizing curve around to the back of her body.

I brought my head up, smiled up at her, and then kissed the inside of her knee, that was bent next to me. I could feel her squirm when I gently raked my nails along the outside of her thighs, and moved my mouth down, swabbing the inside of her leg with wet kisses.

“Yeahh..” I heard her whisper softly as my cheek brushed her vulva. My kisses were now anointing the groin cleft right by her pussy. Her whisper made me shiver with desire.

All I had to do was turn my head to the left, and her pussy was there, the tiny soft hairs brushing my lips and nose. I took both my thumbs, placed them on her labia, and pulled gently outward, spreading her. It was entrancing, being so close to her, seeing at tongue’s length the womanly ornament that had been only a reflection in the mirror for the last fifty-one years.

In taking in the close-up sight of her pudenda, her inner folds, and her hooded love bud, her aroma was now was in my face, gentle, meaty, and compelling.

I looked up into that angelic face just before I licked. I was flush with excitement as the bare flesh of her sex met my tongue. Her taste was intoxicating! I had tasted my own juices before when I masturbated, sucking at my slickened fingers and wondered, would another woman taste like this? Her taste was similar, but all her own, and I wanted more.

I could see her tummy heaving out of the corner of my eye as I continued my licking, stopping every so often to suck the tender, slippery delicacies of her pussy in between my lips. I pressed my face in, feeling her juices anoint me, and licked her feverishly, concentrating on her clit as much as I could. God, how beautiful it felt, the sun on my back, my body half in the water, and this young goddess splayed before me, giving me her fruit so generously. Her hand was on my head, and she was moaning sweetly. Everything else, everything, including every last thought of my sickness, melted away.

I looked past her at one point to the soft grass under a low shade tree. I wanted her there. She looked at me, her breasts heaving, as I backed away and then climbed the steps, exited the pool and came up behind her.

“Come….here,” I directed her breathlessly. It was only a few steps to the warm, soft grass, and I laid my young beauty out there and stretched myself out between her legs. I ate her for another fifteen minutes, at least, until she came. I didn’t even stop to wonder what was theatrics and what was real. It was real to me. I made her cum.

My own womanhood was a sticky swamp of desire. For some reason though, I wanted her hand. I knew I had all night with her, and I would be able to have her mouth whenever I wanted. I wanted to feel her fingers inside me now, and I wanted to see her face at the same time.

I rested my head on her mound, and enjoyed the stroking of her fingers in my silver hair, which was spread around her thighs and tummy. What a sight, as I lay my head sideways on her warm mons: my silver hair, on the lower regions of a woman, with her slick essence on my lips.

“You sure you’ve never been with a woman before?” Raquel asked from above.

I beamed at the compliment. “I fantasize well, I guess,” I said happily, and turned my face so I could kiss the top, bony part of her mound.

“I’d love to taste you,” she said. That thrilled me, but I was going to tease myself, make myself wait for that treat later.

“Please put your fingers in me..I want to feel you in me,” I said, scrambling up and sitting on the grass next to her.

“Sure,” she said, nodding, as she turned and propped herself up on one elbow. The other hand slid between my thighs, her two fingers nestling in an explorative, probing way before my very wet opening yielded to her gentle push, and let the two fingers slipped in.

“Unhhmm……” I moaned as I watched her. I let her finger me like that for a couple of minutes, then I spread my legs wider. “Put two more fingers in…” I urged her,
”C’mon, fuck me…”

“Yeah!” she smiled, delighted at my excited demand.

It was divine, this lady’s four slender fingers forming a knobby, pliant cock in me, and I writhed as the sensations racing along my vaginal walls spread to the rest of my body.

She looked at me those pretty eyes,framed by the honey-tinged hair, and blurted out in a naughty voice, “Want the whole thing?”

“Wha..what? What do you mean?” I panted, unsure if I understood.

“My whole hand,” she said, “let me give you my whole fist…”

The thought of it sent a bolt of delicious danger through me. “Yes,” I said, “give it to me.”

Raquel brought her fingers out to my gooey opening, then made a fist, and twisting gently, worked it inside me. I arched, the stretching of my sex at first painful and then overwhelmingly pleasurable. With a comforting hand on my tummy, she slowly burrowed the warhead she had made deeper, her wrist disappearing in my pussy as I looked down in wonder.

“Ohgodddd….” I gasped raggedly, as she worked the fist back a little then deeper, sinking it in to the middle of her forearm. I squealed loudly as she gripped my breast with one hand and drove her phallic arm deeper still, almost to her elbow. Her eyes were fixed on me, gleaming, her mouth open with concentration, as she pulled back, then drilled back in, plowing my depths like I’ve never experienced. I looked at her through lust glazed eyes and fantasized at that moment that she was some desperate, beautiful intruder in my home, and that I had been unable to stop her from raping me here in my back yard. That thought drove me over the top, as her pretty little arm speared me yet again, a soft squishy sound coming from my center as she took me. My climax rattled me to the core, and my entire body came alive with a long, ecstatic shock wave.

I shrieked, holding onto her shoulders as she fucked me so mercilessly with that fisted forearm, and I finally collapsed backward onto the grass, tugging at her arm for her to unplug her silky weapon from me.

Slowly, she withdrew, her arm coated with my nectar, and I watched in joy-shattered wonder.

I pulled her to me, and held her close; she rocked me, my face against her neck for the longest time, the incredible, seismic sensations of the fist-fucking slowly ebbing in her embrace.

“Goddam Raquel”..I whispered into her skin, “…unbelievable..”

“Mmmm…I loved it,” she said soothingly, and I felt her kiss my head.

She released me, and stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said, “could you real quick show me the bathroom? I have to pee.”

“Oh sure,” I said, looking up at her. Then, I was overcome with another desire, one that just boiled to the surface, from deep within my hidden closet of taboo fantasies. She had just shaken it all loose, and I didn’t expect this, but I wanted it. I embraced her waist, on my knees, and pressed my body gently to her. My face was right by her belly button.

“Pee here,” I said, my heart pounding. “Please, pee on me, just like this…can you?”

She looked down at me, seriously at first, then a small laugh punctuated her stare. She nodded, and then closed her eyes briefly. I felt her take a deep breath, and she looked out over the trees, and the pool. I felt and saw her bladder lurch once, twice, and I shivered with anticipation.

Then, it came. Her hot, pungent liquid gushed from her young body and immediately splashed steadily against my chest, over my breasts, burning them pleasantly. I went weak with excitement, smelling her urine as it coursed down my front, splashing, dripping and running in warm, acidic rivers between my legs, over my pussy, down my legs. I looked up at her, and she smiled down as the stream of her release slowed, then pulsed out again, dousing my body in another generous flow of warm, gently stinging liquid. I laid my face against her belly, feeling her pussy hairs on my throat as the pee gently trickled to a stop.

Then, I reached down between my legs, rubbed my clit, and came immediately, clutching her body and shuddering as a powerful climax seized me.

She just stroked my hair as I orgasmed shamelessly at her feet, my body freshly doused with her urine. I never knew I wanted it, until that moment. And having it, right when I wanted it, was something I never knew would be so powerful.

“Wow, you are something else, Susan…” she whispered down at me.

I could only loll my face against her belly and kiss there in response.

She stroked my head for a few moments, her pee drying on my naked body in the lingering afternoon sun, until I looked up and said, “Take a shower with me?”
“Sure,” she said.

Again, we held hands, and walked slowly back to the house.

I tried not to count the hours we had left, but I felt a delighted thrill when I thought that I still had the entire night with my very own, sensual, willing, real life love doll.


“That was a bit of surprise,” she said, smiling as she soaped up my neck and breasts.

I nodded, as the water drummed against my back. “For me, too. It kind of came out of nowhere, but that’s, well…that’s what made it really exciting. I wanted it all of a sudden, and I felt comfortable asking you.”

“I liked it,” she said with a shrug. “It was really very cool. I’m glad we—you did it. Fulfilling your fantasies is what this is all about, right?” She went to her knees, and made wide, circular sweeps with the sponge on my tummy, sides, and up underneath my breasts. “We,” she had said, and stopped herself. I liked the fact that she felt that my adventure had also become hers, and not so much a “you pay me, I do what you say” kind of thing. That was the reality, the arrangement; I knew that, of course. But so far, she made it seem so natural, like she was really enjoying herself. I watched her, as she carefully washed me, and the look on her face was one of involvement rather than paid compliance. Enough, Susan, I told myself. Stop second-guessing…well the movement of her sponge made all the weighing and assessing in my head quickly disappear. She was looking up at me, a soft smile on her face, as she worked the soapy sponge in slow circles in my pubis, delving and swabbing to get in the groin creases around my vulva, and finally, excruciatingly, a long swipe from the top of my slit back, down, under, until the sponge was teasing my anus.

I leaned back against the shower wall as she bathed me. She rinsed the sponge, and washed my private areas with care and tenderness. It was more than luxury, having someone bathe me like this. I closed my eyes for a moment, and took it in. It was pure splendor. She rinsed me, and moved to my thighs, down my legs, until all traces of that wild and forbidden shower she had given me were erased.

She stood, and I took the sponge from her.

“My turn,” I said, getting a delighted nod from her.

Using her techniques, I bathed her just as carefully, and sensually, marveling at her young, nearly flawless body as I went.

When we were done, we toweled each other off. She looked at me as if to say, “what’s next on the agenda?”

I went to the linen closet and took out a big, wool blanket I kept for cold winter nights. Though it wasn’t exactly cold out, fall was upon us, and there was a bite to the air once the sun went down.

“Let’s relax on the sofa a bit, ok?” I said.

“Sure…do we um, wear anything for this?”

I thought for a moment, more out of dramatic pause then any real decision-making, then shook my head. “Nope. I don’t think we should.”

She laughed a hearty, natural laugh, throwing her head back a little bit, her eyes gleaming at me in the hallway. “I like the way you think, Susan,” she said.

I got the Merlot, which still had about half the bottle remaining, and grabbed our wine glasses on the way. I switched on the TV, and sat down on the sofa, pulling my legs up while Raquel poured the wine. I patted the spot next to me, and to my delight, my new—albeit temporary—companion cuddled up to me, and I covered us both with the blanket. I shivered with the silky smoothness of her body up next to me, our bodies both warm and flowery scented from the shower.

There was some silly comedy show with stand-up comics on TV, and she giggled as she snuggled closer, leaning against me. “This is fun!” she said, as she took a sip of her wine.

“Isn’t it?” Our eyes met for a moment, and it was as if neither of us, twelve hours ago, could have really envisioned being here, like this: her, naked under a blanket watching TV with an older woman…me in my own house, with a young and beautiful call girl, snuggled up to me like we were at some deliciously naughty slumber party.

We watched and laughed, changed channels when a lousy act came on, and then ended up back on that channel again. Bumping against each other under the blanket we laughed and commented, draining a second, then a third glass of wine and leaving the Merlot bottle empty. It was such a sweet time, innocent in its own way, save for the touching of our skin under the blanket. I was surprised how much this young woman, twenty-seven years my junior, agreed with me on what was funny and what wasn’t, and how we seemed to be in sync. It was like I had a new girlfriend, and I really liked her. We were having fun, the way we had in the pool. Through it all, there was the unspoken understanding, building with erotic silence in both of us, that there was more pleasure to come.

“Am I…” she said softly during a commercial, “what you expected? I mean, you’re ok with everything so far?” She was looking down, and trailing her finger down my shoulder. She almost sounded insecure.

I had no idea that she even second-guess herself.

“Raquel, you’re wonderful,” I said, “this is better than I could have dreamed of.”

She grinned happily. “Good. I’m glad.”

And she delighted me with a kiss on my neck, soft and lingering. I leaned my head to the opposite side, urging her to go on. She did, moving her kisses slowly lower, along my collarbone.

Then she whispered something in my ear that made my heart surge with wicked excitement. “Tell me what you want,” her warm, baby-like breath said.

I looked down into her green eyes and felt my own breath leave me.

“Go down on me…slowly…make love to me,” I said, and before she could acknowledge, I planted a kiss on her mouth, and our arms were around each other. I turned to her under the blanket and then leaned back, and she followed me with her mouth still on mine. I was half sitting as I rested my back against the pillows on the arm of the sofa, as Raquel’s lovely face descended to my breasts. She took a nipple in her mouth and sucked gently.

My senses awakened at her touch, alive and tingling. Her tongue licked and teased both nipples and she lathered my breasts with the most luscious lashes and suckings. I was fast turning to melted butter in her hands.

Raquel’s hair was brushing my pelvis softly when her face sank between my open thighs. I let out a long, high moan as her tongue went to work on me down there. God, it was exquisite, the way she ate me!

I could feel, every so often, her breasts brushing the backs of my thighs as she licked and teased every nook and cranny of my womanhood. This girl’s mouth was turning my pussy into a bubbling lava bed, and my heart into a veritable fireworks show.

I was only vaguely aware of her words, so lost I had become in the sensations that were seizing me. I could swear at point I heard, from between my thighs, her voice murmur, “ohh Susan you are delicious…”

That finished me. My body was soon quaking with intense currents of pleasure, and where each one ended in my nerves another popped and streaked through me. I could not ever remember climaxing for so long. My fingers must have felt like talons to her, so tightly I gripped her arms as she tried to corral my squirming body.
Finally, the waves stopped battering me, and she slid up to lay on top of me. I slipped my arms around her, running them down her back, to that round, perfect butt, and she kissed me deeply.

I was enthralled at tasting myself, particularly on her mouth. Another spasm welled up in me as her pussy, snug against mine, ground softly against me. I pushed up against her, my clit pressing and rubbing against her thigh as she kissed me. Another thunderous orgasm seized me, and I moaned into her mouth.

“Mmmmm…” She hummed. She gently broke the kiss, and with one finger brushed and pulled some silvery strands of hair from my face as I looked up at her.

“Wow…” I exhaled. There was nothing else to say, and I’m not sure if I could find the words. She had shaken me deeply, and I felt suddenly as young and vibrant as she was.

We shared some nice “cool-down” kisses then, pecking each other’s lips and nose, eyes, cheeks, and I finally patted her bottom.

“Let’s cuddle some more,” I suggested. I felt my stomach growl, but I didn’t want to waste a second eating. Then, I thought, it would be nice to eat with her.

“Hungry at all?” I asked as we resumed our cuddling position under the blanket.

“Actually, yeah, but don’t go to any trouble, I mean….”

I finished the sentence in my head, something like, “dinner doesn’t have to be part of the deal..”

“Do you mind frozen pizza?” I asked her.

She giggled. “No, no problem at all. Can we add a little salad?”

I was so happy she wanted to suggest that. “Sure! Tell you what, I’m going to bathroom, and you can look in the fridge and throw together whatever salad you want. I’ll put the pizza in the oven.”

I went to my room and got us each a robe. It wasn’t a modesty issue, but I think it gave us both a break from the total nakedness, so that when—not if---it happened again, it would be even more exciting.

I was on cloud nine at that point, and I had forgotten any of this to be a “process” of my end-of-life explorations. I was living a fantasy, and it was sweet beyond belief. What we had done already! And-- I stole a glance at the clock--it was only nine o’clock. We had the whole evening ahead of us.

When I got back from the bathroom, tying my robe, Raquel was crouched down, cleaning up a small mess with a paper towel. She looked up at me with a scrunched up face.

“I was trying to get the lettuce out, and I broke a jar of artichoke hearts. Sorry, Susan!” She put a paper towel full of the small broken jar fragments in the garbage bin, and swabbed the last oily remnants of her accident up with a sponge.

I put my hands on my hips, and feigned anger. “Why you baaad little girl! You’re in trouble now!” Then I laughed, “Honey, don’t worry about it.”

She rose, and dropped the sponge in the sink, and I could see a blush in her face as she stood in front of me.

“Will I…get a spanking?” she asked in a little girl voice, her eyes looking up in mock fear.

I laughed, playing along with the joke. “Is that what you want?” I said back.

But then her voice got lower, and she swallowed as she stepped closer to me. She nodded and said, “Can I tell you something? A little secret?”

“Sure, tell me.” I was pleasantly surprised that maybe Raquel was going to share one of her fantasies with me.

“I have always had this fantasy, “she started, smiling sheepishly, her lovely hair still a little tousled from our lovemaking on the sofa, “of being spanked, you know…uh…being a young girl and getting in trouble, having someone take me over their knee, pull my panties down and punishing me.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. Then she opened them, and her pretty green eyes shone at me.

“And the person spanking me is always a woman,” she said, “an older woman.” Her eyes, fixed on mine, told the whole story.

Goosebumps raced over my skin. Was she asking me to play in her fantasy?? If she was, I was more than ready. Never even in my own staring-down-death-in-my-final-months fantasies could I have envisioned the call girl I was going to hire, asking me to fulfill her. My loins, still reeling from a roller coaster of sexual adventure today, stirred with an entirely new, fresh arousal.

“I just might have to set you straight, and see that you get what you’ve got coming to you,” I said, peppering my voice with a stern, authoritative tone.

She closed her eyes again. “Ohyesss” she whispered.

“Let’s do it right,” I said, “how are you dressed when we start this?”

She beamed with delight, that I would want to add the detail she wanted. “Ok, well, it’s like I’m in that schoolgirl mode, you know?” She giggled. “And the woman—you—are the strict headmistress of the school, something like that.”

I nodded, brimming with desire to do this with her. “Well, I have no schoolgirl clothes…” This set us both laughing, then her eyes went wide.

“I do--In the car.”

“You do??”

“Yes, I keep a bunch of different clothes in a gym bag, for customers who want to role play stuff. Men love the schoolgirl outfit. I’ve got the saddle shoes, knee socks, the whole works”

I thought for a moment about my wardrobe. Oh, I could ad lib a headmistress pretty good. “Go get your schoolgirl stuff on, I’m going to go change—“ I pointed to the den, “and meet me in the headmistress’ office.”

Her mouth hung open in stunned delight. “You mean, you’ll really do it?”

“I can’t wait to,” I said with a smile.

“Awesome,” she grinned, and trotted out to her car with her keys.

The oven alarm buzzed, and I turned it off. Dinner would wait, and I was sure Raquel would agree.


I dressed in a long black skirt, with a pair of leather high heeled boots I might wear winter shopping twice a year, if that often. I found a long sleeve button down midriff blouse that looked old fashioned enough to be part of the headmistress’ outfit. I checked myself in the mirror, swimming with excitement, like a girl in a high school play. I psyched myself into the dominant role, ready to be strict and unforgiving. I knew just what she wanted. I had played with a similar fantasy, being held down and spanked, and as much as I tried to get Phil to do it during our marriage, he just never really got it.

I closed the door to the den, and sat down on the loveseat, sparkling with anticipation.

A feeble knock came on the door, and I almost laughed with delight as I heard her say, “Ma’am, may I come in?”

“Identify yourself, girl!” I said loudly.

“Raquel, Ma’am.”

“Ahh, Raquel, yes…” I said, as the scenario formed perfectly in my mind. Imagination was something I had never had to work at. “Come in.”

How perfectly adorable she looked! She had on a white blouse, tucked into a short, red plaid pleated skirt. Her white knee socks descended from just below to her knees down into a pair of black buckled saddle shoes. I smiled, in spite of the fact I was supposed to be meting out the punishment here.

I pointed to the floor in front of me, as Raquel stood meekly, slightly knock-kneed, hands behind her back. Oh, I’ll bet the men did go wild for this, I thought.

“Come stand here, Raquel.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She shuffled forward, head down.

I reached up and tipped her chin with my forefinger. “You know why you are here, don’t you?”

She nodded, and mumbled, “Yes, Ma’am…and I’m very sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough, Raquel. All the girls here know that smoking is absolutely forbidden on school grounds.”

A flicker of excitement went over her face, as she realized I had deepened her fantasy with a little dramatic detail.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I patted my lap. “Over my knee right now, young lady.”

She made a reluctant face, and then climbed over my lap, settling down with her pelvis draped on my thigh.

“Wait a minute. Get back up,” I told her.

She stood, looking at me. Her character and probably her real self were both wondering.

I stood as well. “I will not have my fine things crushed because of the misbehavior of one delinquent girl,” I said matter-of-factly, and I reached back and unhooked my skirt, and peeled it away from my body. I laid the skirt on the back of the sofa, and stood before her in a pair of black lace panties. She looked from my boots up to the panties, then up to me, and swallowed.

“Now then,” I said, sitting back down. “Now you can lay over my knee.”

She again draped herself on me, sighing slightly as her thighs and pelvis touched my now bare skin.

I took her short pleated skirt and pulled it up, laying it gently on her lower back. She had on a pair of little white cotton panties with pink bunny rabbits on them. Oh, this was a girl who went for the throat, I thought.

“Well, well, aren’t these panties just adorable,” I said, tugging at the waistband to bring them away from her beautiful round buttocks, then letting them snap back again.

I felt her shiver.

“There are not going to protect you one bit, I’m afraid, Raquel.”

I slowly pulled the girlish panties down, exposing that lush ass of hers, and peeled them ceremoniously down below her upper thighs, not satisfied with her exposure until they were bunched up at her knees.

Raquel squirmed, her naked pussy bumping “accidentally” against my thigh.

“Are you going to be a good girl and obey the rules from now on?” I demanded.

“Yes, I will, I prom---“

I cut into her reply with a sudden slap to one buttock. “Ow,” she complained.

“Silence, girl,” I ordered, really pouring it on for her. I whacked her defenseless bottom several more times, enjoying the quivering of the supple flesh, and her muffled whimpers. The whole time, her squirming pressed and ground her pussy hotly against my leg. Her buns were turning a deep pink. I looked over by her head. Strands of her silky hair was being blown away from her face with her deep breaths. I looked between her legs and saw her pudenda peeking out from between the bottoms of her buttocks, and could swear that telltale glisten existed there. I delivered about eight more spanks, with a couple of dramatic pauses in between, and I could tell she was climbing the walls now.

“And for good measure..” I said, blasting her backside two more times with my open palm.

“Ohhggoddd…” I heard her moan. Her pelvis worked slowly, then suddenly she was humping my thigh, gripping the arm of the loveseat. “I’m..ss-sorry m-mMa’am,” she grunted, and then she tossed her head, her body quaking, and squealed loudly.

I was rapt with her deep enjoyment, absolutely enthralled that she could reach a climax like this with me, lost in the fantasy I had helped her live out. She was cumming, on me. My own heart was racing.

She let out a long, ragged sigh, and collapsed slowly on me. “Oh yesss….” She whispered.

Then she climbed off me rapidly and threw her arms around me. “Oh Susan thank you…thank you..” she said, her body still trembling and her arms hugging me tightly. “That was so fucking good!”

I held her and just smiled with joy.

“The pleasure was mine, you naughty girl.”

She giggled into my neck and our faces slid into a kiss.

“Now,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “You know what happens when a girl gets punished and atones for her wrong doings, don’t you?”

“No, what?” she said, grinning.

“Pizza.”

We both were overcome with laughter, and, arm in arm, went back to the sofa, peeling off our clothes as we went.


Not ten minutes after we had snuggled back under the blanket, pizza slices in hand and delirious with the day of fantasy, lust, and exploration, the phone rang.
The third strangest phone call of my life had arrived.

****************

Raquel had her head on my shoulder, and I had a slice of pizza in one hand as Jay Leno told jokes on TV. And I was going to move this silky creature away from me, get up, and answer a telephone call? Not a chance. She glanced up at me to see if I was going to get up, and then nestled her head up to my shoulder again. I was in my lesbian blissful dream state and I didn’t want to wake up just yet.

One ear listened as the beep tone on the voice message speaker sounded from the kitchen.

“Hi Mom…” Brian’s voice began. I smiled. My son. It was his birthday tomorrow, and he had probably received the shirts I sent him, and his favorite coconut candies, which I had made and packaged carefully the week before.

“Surprise!” he and Gina’s voice squawked together. “We’re in town, and we’re right down the street, headed to your place…” I sat bolt upright, and Raquel looked at me.

“Hope you’re home!” My son continued cheerily. “ If not, we’ll just go in with our key, and we’ll see you when you get there…hope to see you in a few minutes!”

Click.

“Oh god.”

Raquel had heard the whole thing too, and no explanation was needed. “I’ll go,” she said, hurrying to get up and gather her things. “And I’ll come back later, if you like.”

“No—Raquel..” I said, thinking quickly. “By the time you get dressed and get halfway down the driveway, they’ll see you.” My driveway was a little over a quarter of a mile long, snaking through the woods before emerging onto the highway. I didn’t want them to see her leaving, it would be easier if she stayed. My mind raced for an explanation.

“I at least have to get dressed,” she said hurrying her naked body to my bedroom, where her sexy white tube dress was. I just didn’t have friends her age, that dressed like that, so the “visiting girlfriend” story would be a tough sell.

“You don’t happen to have like a medical therapist uniform…nurse outfit or something in that bag, do you?”

She paused. “Scrubs. I have like hospital scrubs in---“

“Put ‘em on. Hurry.”

“I mean---“

I pointed at her. “You’re my massage therapist. Just follow my lead ok?” I said as I hurriedly gathered up skirts and panties from the floor. “Brian and his surprises….” I muttered.

“Massage therapist,” she repeated.

“Yes, just play along with me. I know you can.”

She shrugged, and I looked out the window. A pair of headlights was about two hundred yards from the front of the house.

I quickly cleared the table of pizza and wine glasses. Gina, the angel that she was, always came here and cleaned things. My God that woman insisted on dusting, doing my laundry, helping in the kitchen, even making my bed, now that I was sick. She was so sweet it was maddening.

I went to the bedroom as Raquel was pulling on the scrubs and a pair of tennis shoes. Yes, she looked like a massage therapist. An impossibly cute and sexy one, but a massage therapist.

I stuffed her dress, panties, and shoes in one of my empty drawers and did a quick walk through of the house to make sure we hadn’t left anything else around.

A horn honked twice outside.

Raquel looked at me as she came out. “Two role-plays in one night,” she said, with a straight face.

I had to laugh.

Brian and Gina had their own key, but they knocked anyway, and rang the doorbell, probably because they saw a strange car in the driveway.

“Mom!” they both chimed, grinning as they came in, and looking around furtively, to see who the guest was. Raquel, sitting professionally at the dinner table,
smiled at them and waved her hand. As our hugging subsided, she got up, standing there with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Mom, we didn’t know you had company, are we interrupting someth---“

“Oh, not at all, honey…Raquel, I’d like you to meet my daughter-in-law, Gina, and my son, Brian….kids, Raquel is my massage therapist. Remember the doctor had recommended it..?”

“Hi,” Gina said, taking Raquel’s hand in both of hers, “so nice to meet you.” Brian greeted her then, and Raquel said, “Nice to meet you too, Susan told me so much about you in such a short period of time!”

“We certainly don’t want to interrupt your treatment,” Gina said with a concerned look.

“We just finished,” Raquel said with a calm smile. “The first session anyway. She has to have another one tomorrow.”

I do?

“Yes, she is wonderful,” I said as we all sat down at the table. “Brian you scoundrel. This is a surprise honey!”

“Aw, well, we missed you and I was able to get a couple of days off, so we decided to drive down on our way to Hilton Head.”

Were they staying? I wondered. I would have a hard time telling them no.

“That was so thoughtful, sweetheart,” I said, “and happy birthday, too,” I said, getting up and giving him another hug. Out of the corner of my eye, I could already spot Gina’s eyes sweeping the house to see what she could clean for me.

“Well,” Raquel said, “now I’m the one interrupting, so I’ll go.”

“Oh no,” Gina said, making a face, “must you? We haven’t even gotten to know you! Raquel, anyone who is taking care of Mom is special. Like part of our family.”

Raquel smiled at Gina as Gina held her hand. She glanced at me, probably wondering what “taking care of Mom” meant.

“Really, Raquel,” I chimed in, “You told me that for the first month, I’d need a massage at night and then one in the morning, to bolster my immune system, and all that, once a week.”

My son and his wife were listening attentively. “It’s late, and, you live so far away. It only makes sense for you to stay here, that is if you can.”

“Oh yes,” Gina insisted, “stay, Raquel. There are three bedrooms here.”

“Well, I don’t want to impose….” She said, sitting back down.

“Nonsense,” I said. “It only makes sense. For you to drive back out here tomorrow morning, with the rain we’ve been having, is silly.”

“Ok, I suppose I can stay,” she said, “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Great!” Gina said, clasping her hands together. My daughter-in-law loves to make new friends.

“Mom, we can take our bedroom, as usual?” Brian asked.

“Sure, honey, go bring your things in and get settled.”

As Brian brought in two small overnight bags, Gina and Raquel chatted. Gina was leaning over the table, focused keenly on my new “massage therapist.”

“I’m just amazed,” Gina said, “that things like massage can actually help with the cancer.”

Raquel glanced at me again, as if to say, “cancer, huh?”

She brushed back her hair and nodded. “We have no long-standing studies in place that show any cases where the cancer was cured, but one study showed breast cancer patients with a remission rate about 30% higher than those who didn’t get regular massages.”

I sat there dumbstruck. Raquel was pouring out the bullshit with such confidence and poise, I even started to wonder if she had some medical therapy background. Boy, could she think on her feet!

“Wow…” Gina whispered, very impressed.

“Massage has been a healer for thousands of years,” Raquel said, as if she had given this mini-lecture before. “We’re just now starting to realize its benefits in the medical field as a supplement to healing and treatment.”

Incredible! I took effort to keep my eyes from bulging and my mouth from dropping open. Now this was Oscar material!

“That’s so cool,” Gina said, beaming at her. You’ll have to give me your card before you go. One day, when I am down here and we have time, maybe I could get a session with you..?”

“Of course,” Raquel said with a smile. “I ran out of cards the other day and I’m having more printed out, but Susan has my number.”

Oh right, I thought. Just dial up Angels on Call, Gina, they’ll send her right over. I suppressed the urge to laugh out loud again.

I thought then of Gina, naked on a table with Raquel’s hands going to work on her. Oh boy.

I was in this strange state of trepidation, mixed with the high that came with our ad lib story working so well. Gina and Brian had swallowed it all, hook line and sinker, so far.

Brian joined us at the table, and the conversation changed, blessedly, to his job and things he and Gina were doing back home.

Raquel was the perfect guest, just involved and warm enough, but still the professional in scrubs, which she played much better than I ever thought possible.

“Oh, you guys live in Colorado,” she whined, “you’re sooo lucky!”

Then she added, “I’ve skiied there a couple of times with friends.”

“Yeah, where?” Brian asked.

“Breckenridge once, Steamboat Springs the other time…”

Gina and Brian smiled at each other. “We live right outside Breckenridge,” Gina said.

Raquel rolled her eyes dramatically. “Awesome,” she said.

The conversation meandered, much of it having to do with us, and Raquel bowed out. She looked at her watch (which I didn’t even remember her putting on), stood and stretched. “You guys visit,” she said. “I’m going to go to bed. It was so nice to meet you two.”

Gina was by her side instantly. “Come on, Raquel, I’ll make sure you have everything you need in there.”

“Susan,” Raquel said, looking back at me, “you’re a lucky lady, to have a family like this.”

“Oh I am very lucky, yes,” I said, still incredulous at her acting job.

I strained to hear whatever conversation was going on in the spare bedroom as Brian talked to me. I heard a couple of giggles, and heard Gina say, “We are very happy to know you, Raquel.”

My god, I thought, sitting there. How did all this happen, so fast?

When Gina came back, she was smiling, “What a great girl, Mom. I like her so much already!”

Yes, I’m kind of fond of her myself, I thought, hiding the wicked, secret smirk that was trying to sneak out onto my face.

“Gina, my darling, you love everybody,” I said, “and that’s why I love you.”

She hugged me, and then sat. “So, this massage really works, huh?”

“Oh, I don’t know, yet. It’s my first treatment. It felt wonderful, though. The doctor—no, Raquel said something that she had read about it slowing down the cell mutation. I don’t know…” I had to be careful to attribute things to the doctor. Brian spoke with him at least once a week.

“When’s your next appointment with the oncologist, Mom?” Brian asked.

“Two weeks.”

He nodded. We talked some more, and Gina headed to the kitchen. I heard the clink of wine glasses, and then the faucet come on. Damn, I thought. She is in dishwashing mode now, and I’m sure she’s wondering,what kind of massage therapist drinks wine with their patient.

I heard the oven door open and close. “I’ll put the pizza in the fridge for tomorrow, Mom,” she called out.

“Gina, for godssake, leave all that alone. I’ll get it.”

Thankfully, she complied.

As we all headed to bed, no one—except me—noticed that we walked right by a pair of little white and pink cotton panties which were just under the back of the sofa, barely sticking out.

I would make it a point to get up soon, for some water, and retrieve those.

I thought of the day, as I settled into bed, and thought of Raquel in her bed, next door to Gina and Brian, where we really couldn’t get to each other. What an incredible turn of events had occurred in such a short time!

I was woozy from the day of wild sex, slumber partying and drinking wine with my young, secret lover, and most recently, the hasty cover story.

Gina peeked her head in my room. “I’m going to get up early and fix us all a big breakfast! ‘Nite Mom.” Good god, that girl was impossible.

“Goodnite, sweetie.”

I closed my eyes, thinking of my lovely Raquel, wanting so much to kiss her goodnight. My plan had been to fall asleep with her, and wake up with her in my arms. Oh well. I couldn’t regret the rest of it, could I? Besides, Brian was visiting. How greedy did I need to be?

Sleep pulled me down quickly, my thoughts doing a lazy spiral, about what the morning would bring.

******************

It smelled like pancakes when my eyes opened.

I splashed my face and went out to the kitchen, feeling more than just a bit groggy from the previous day’s astounding romp of pleasure.

The whole aura of the house was different now, of course. I had planned last night’s sleep to be a temporary breather in between part two of the whirlwind tour through my private lesbian theme park. Instead, I was awaking to something pleasantly odd, a completely foreign, unrehearsed stage play. The leading lady, Raquel, was in the kitchen, I discovered, helping my daughter-in-law cook prepare breakfast.

I must be hallucinating this, I thought. Someone slipped LSD in my coffee yesterday morning, and it would all fade away when the drug wore off.

But there she was, the young woman who in eighteen hours had learned my body more intimately than perhaps anyone ever had, in a borrowed robe, chatting happily with my son’s wife, playing expertly the part of my massage therapist.

“There she is,” Gina sang as she saw me. “Mom,” she said, putting her arm around Raquel like a long lost sister, “I just love Raquel. We’ve been here talking since seven o’clock. She is awesome.”

That she is, I thought. Could this get any more bizarre?

Raquel hugged her back, and leaned her head against Gina’s. “Aww. What a sweetie.”

Good grief. Well, Susan, you have no one to blame but yourself. You could have let Raquel rush out of here, and explained to them that she was some insurance person, therapist, whatever. Admit it—you didn’t want her to go. Now, you’ve got this family love-fest.

Gina poured me some coffee and Raquel and I shared some long glances. Hers seemed to say, “All is well, relax.”

I sipped the coffee and Raquel went into business mode.

“Susan, what do you say we do your treatment about an hour after breakfast? Give your food time to settle in?”

“You know best. Sounds fine.”

Gina stirred the scrambled eggs. “And we’ll be out of your way. Brian and I will take a walk, or just read or something.”

“No problem,” Raquel said.

After breakfast, Brian said he wanted to take a swim.

“Oh, honey, let’s go in the pool later. Let Raquel give Mom her massage and give them some quiet. Take me to that antique store in town.”

Yes, for heaven’s sake, go the antique store, I begged.

“There’s no reason for you guys to run off,” Raquel said. “Go in the pool. We’ll be fine in here. My portable table is broken, and being repaired now , so we’re using Susan’s bedroom anyway.”

We are?

Gina shrugged, and Brian fixed her with one of those “told you so” looks, followed by the relieved look of a male who has escaped a trip to the antique store.
So they stayed.

After breakfast, Raquel went to the bathroom, then emerged with her famous, always-at-the-ready green scrubs on. “Ok, Susan, why don’t you get ready, and I’ll meet you at your bed.”

Gina and Brian were already walking out to the pool in their bathing suits, towels slung over their shoulders.

What, I wondered, could actually take place in my bedroom, with my son on the premises, splashing around innocently with his wife?

In case anyone came in, I continued with the script. I stripped, and lay face down on my bed with a towel over my butt.

Raquel came in, humming busily, with a bottle of massage oil.

“Don’t tell me, you had that stuff with you too,” I said, nodding to the bottle in her hand.

“Of course. A girl has to be prepared.”

I giggled, and she closed the door, peeking out to the pool area as she did. She came to me, leaned down and kissed my back, then my shoulders. What a lovely surprise that was!

“You are absolutely amazing,” I said, shaking my head wonder at her acting job.

“Moi?” she said in mock innocence, putting her hand on her breast.

“Talk about falling into a role…wow.”

“I was in drama in high school she said,” smiling.

Then, she rubbed some of the oil in her hands, warming it, and began caressing it into my shoulders.

“What—you’re actually going to give me a massage?”

“We can’t lie to your son, Susan.”

“Thank you.”

She let a minute go by, her hands making wide, very pleasant and soothing circles on my shoulders, before she spoke.

“So..you have cancer.”

“Yes.”

Her hands moved down, to my lower back. It felt good, the way the circles got smaller, the pressure more concentrated.

“How bad? I mean, what kind—“

“Terminal. They say I’ve got less than a year.” I sighed. Part of the spell seemed broken now.

“Susan…I’m sorry…I…”

“It’s all right, Raquel,” I said into the pillow. “It’s all right. I’ve been through every emotion you can imagine, and some you can’t. Now I’m just living. Living however I want to live. Which, by the way, I recommend highly. Before someone tells you that time is almost up.”

I heard her take a deep breath. “So, this…this is part of what…like one of those last-chance-to-fulfill-the-fantasy things..?

“Something like that, yes.”

She got up, and locked the door.

“What are you doing?”

“The extra sensual massage,” she said quietly. “It’s on special today.”

My son was outside, in the pool. I should feel funny about doing this, secretly enjoying a female lover, with him here.

But Brian had a female lover too, and they shared a bed in my home last night.

He was a big boy now, I thought, as Raquel’s oil-slickened fingers pushed aside the towel and moved lower on my ass.

TO BE CONTINUED

If you have enjoyed Nina Cutler's "DYING DECLARATION, Part One", then please be certain to e-mail her at  queen_traci@yahoo.com  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here to continue on to "DYING DECLARATION, Conclusion"

Click here for a list of all of Nina Cutler's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.