contract. Their parents provided all the material things they required to
survive; in exchange, the children were supposed to repay that support with
perfection. Their part in the contract was to make good grades in school, avoid
all unpleasant matters that might embarrass their parents, marry well and
provide them with cookie-cutter grandchildren. Where her older siblings, Walt
and Kimberly, excelled at these things, she failed miserably. She had been a
mediocre student. The only time her photo ever appeared in the local paper was
in connection with a botched attempt to hold a Gay Pride parade. That had been
the final straw for her father. When she refused to beg God for forgiveness for
her wicked thoughts, he kicked her out of the house. She tried to contact them
once after the band was beginning to gain some public exposure, but as soon as
she mentioned the band, her mother hung up on her. She occasionally wondered
how Walt and Kim were doing, but she was afraid to call. If she didn't give
them a chance to reject her, she could hold on to the fantasy that someone out
there still cared if she were dead or alive.
She closed the shade and
stretched out across the bed on her stomach. She wondered what Anna was doing.
Had she gone to bed or was she still sitting in the den? Several times during
the day, she had caught herself watching Anna. She liked the easy manner in
which she moved. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. It had been a long
time since she'd felt anything for anyone. On a couple occasions, she had
wanted to reach over and smooth away the small crease that appeared between
Anna's eyebrows when she concentrated. Then there was the way her jeans
stretched so deliciously across her hips when she bent over the pool table. A
small ember of desire began to make itself known.
She rolled over on her back
and tucked her hands beneath her head. It made sense that she felt some inkling
of desire for Anna. After all, it had been almost two years since she'd made
love to anyone. She was young and healthy. Why shouldn't she feel desire? Lust, she told herself. She intended to keep a vow she made to herself after her
parents disowned her and Mary died. It was all right to think and lust after
Anna Pagonis, but it could never go beyond a fantasy. In the darkened bedroom,
she slipped her sweatpants off and opened her legs as an imaginary Anna slowly
trailed her fingers down Rona's stomach. She pulled a pillow over her face as
the fingers parted her swollen lips and began to stroke their way through the
creamy wetness. A whimper of pleasure escaped her as fingers slipped inside and
eased back out. As the first inklings of orgasm began, she rolled over onto her
stomach, straining against the fingers until escalating pressure melted into a
mediocre release of tension.
Afterward, feeling lonely and
dissatisfied, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. It was a long while before
she fell asleep.
Rona didn't know what time it
was when something jarred her awake. It took her a moment to remember that she
was no longer on the streets but in the relative safety of a home. Her pounding
heart began to slow as she tried to pinpoint what had disturbed her sleep. After
several seconds of careful listening, she realized that it was a dream rather
than a noise. She couldn't remember the details of the dream, but there was the
vaguest image of Anna being involved.
The following morning, Rona
was in the kitchen drinking coffee when Anna came in wearing expensive-looking
black slacks and a matching black and tan fitted jacket. The white sneakers on
her feet seemed out of place.
"Good morning," Anna
said as she hung the black nylon bag that she was carrying over the knob of the
door leading to the garage. "Are you always such an early bird?"
"I hope I didn't wake
you," she said as she filled a cup for Anna.
"No. I normally try to be
at the office by six-thirty. That's when I catch up on paperwork." She
took the proffered cup of coffee.
survive; in exchange, the children were supposed to repay that support with
perfection. Their part in the contract was to make good grades in school, avoid
all unpleasant matters that might embarrass their parents, marry well and
provide them with cookie-cutter grandchildren. Where her older siblings, Walt
and Kimberly, excelled at these things, she failed miserably. She had been a
mediocre student. The only time her photo ever appeared in the local paper was
in connection with a botched attempt to hold a Gay Pride parade. That had been
the final straw for her father. When she refused to beg God for forgiveness for
her wicked thoughts, he kicked her out of the house. She tried to contact them
once after the band was beginning to gain some public exposure, but as soon as
she mentioned the band, her mother hung up on her. She occasionally wondered
how Walt and Kim were doing, but she was afraid to call. If she didn't give
them a chance to reject her, she could hold on to the fantasy that someone out
there still cared if she were dead or alive.
She closed the shade and
stretched out across the bed on her stomach. She wondered what Anna was doing.
Had she gone to bed or was she still sitting in the den? Several times during
the day, she had caught herself watching Anna. She liked the easy manner in
which she moved. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. It had been a long
time since she'd felt anything for anyone. On a couple occasions, she had
wanted to reach over and smooth away the small crease that appeared between
Anna's eyebrows when she concentrated. Then there was the way her jeans
stretched so deliciously across her hips when she bent over the pool table. A
small ember of desire began to make itself known.
She rolled over on her back
and tucked her hands beneath her head. It made sense that she felt some inkling
of desire for Anna. After all, it had been almost two years since she'd made
love to anyone. She was young and healthy. Why shouldn't she feel desire? Lust, she told herself. She intended to keep a vow she made to herself after her
parents disowned her and Mary died. It was all right to think and lust after
Anna Pagonis, but it could never go beyond a fantasy. In the darkened bedroom,
she slipped her sweatpants off and opened her legs as an imaginary Anna slowly
trailed her fingers down Rona's stomach. She pulled a pillow over her face as
the fingers parted her swollen lips and began to stroke their way through the
creamy wetness. A whimper of pleasure escaped her as fingers slipped inside and
eased back out. As the first inklings of orgasm began, she rolled over onto her
stomach, straining against the fingers until escalating pressure melted into a
mediocre release of tension.
Afterward, feeling lonely and
dissatisfied, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. It was a long while before
she fell asleep.
Rona didn't know what time it
was when something jarred her awake. It took her a moment to remember that she
was no longer on the streets but in the relative safety of a home. Her pounding
heart began to slow as she tried to pinpoint what had disturbed her sleep. After
several seconds of careful listening, she realized that it was a dream rather
than a noise. She couldn't remember the details of the dream, but there was the
vaguest image of Anna being involved.
The following morning, Rona
was in the kitchen drinking coffee when Anna came in wearing expensive-looking
black slacks and a matching black and tan fitted jacket. The white sneakers on
her feet seemed out of place.
"Good morning," Anna
said as she hung the black nylon bag that she was carrying over the knob of the
door leading to the garage. "Are you always such an early bird?"
"I hope I didn't wake
you," she said as she filled a cup for Anna.
"No. I normally try to be
at the office by six-thirty. That's when I catch up on paperwork." She
took the proffered cup of coffee.
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