Page 16 of Melt With You

‘Did you hear something?’ Bette asked, and Dori held her breath.

‘Was nothing,’ Gael said softly. ‘A cat.’

He kissed her, and Dori saw that Bette no longer seemed to care about her privacy, just the way she and Rowan had felt whenever they’d made out in the phone booth. Or maybe the two thought they had plenty of privacy, half-hidden as they were in the doorway. It was only Dori’s angle that let her see them so easily. She hesitated, watching as Bette turned around, putting her hands up on the scuffed brick wall, offering herself to the café owner from behind.

‘Wait,’ he said, his voice mesmerizing in its command. ‘Not yet.’

He spun her back again to face him, then tugged at a chain around her neck, coming up with a tiny silver vial, which glinted in the light. Dori remembered that heart-shaped necklace, remembered thinking that the vial held perfume. She’d never considered the fact that Bette might be wearing a container of cocaine around her neck. How naïve she’d been. Now, she stared as Gael opened the top and helped himself to the contents. Dori couldn’t see the white powder that she sensed was in the ornate pendant.

‘Don’t use it all,’ Bette cooed, watching him inhale.

‘Plenty more where that came from, pretty baby,’ Gael assured her, offering a bit of the coke to his lady. Bette followed his lead.

Dori watched, breathless, as Gael then bent on his knees in the alley and slid Bette’s skirt to her hips. Below, her boss’s ripped stockings disappeared into the tops of her knee-high Doc Martens. She was like Pippi Longstocking on acid with those crazy, striped tights.

And now that she’d done the coke, she seemed even less concerned that someone might catch her. Especially since Gael was pressing his mouth to the front of her lemon-yellow panties. Bette gripped his broad shoulders, holding him to her. She closed her eyes and leant her head back against the red-brick wall, taking obvious pleasure in his mouth against her, even through the filmy barrier of her knickers.

Dori continued to watch, stuck fast to the spot, thinking about what she was seeing. There’d been plenty of talk of coke in high school. In fact, several members of the class ahead of hers, the seniors of 1986, had been part of an actual cocaine ring. The most popular kids had created it, robbing from each other’s homes during parties, selling the televisions and VCRs, and buying coke with the profits. The scandal had been astronomical, with kids formerly destined for Ivy League schools winding up with court dates instead. But Dori hadn’t hung out with any of them. Her mates had been into underage drinking, not drugs.

When she’d worked at the beauty supply store, there’d been a buzz about coke, as well. But Bette had always shielded Dori from the seedier side of things. She’d behaved like a mama tiger protecting her young. Hypocritically, Dori realized now, because the woman seemed to enjoy her mind-altering devices. Or maybe Bette hadn’t wanted Dori to become what she was.

Gael made a motion, and Bette slid her panties down her thighs and over her kick-ass boots. She stepped out of them, and Gael resumed the position, licking and sucking Bette’s pussy in such a fierce way that Dori imagined she could feel his tongue on the split between her own legs. She’d never realized that watching would be such a turn-on and, for an instant, she actually considered touching herself. The need was there. The urge to slip the hem of her short dress up to her hips, to put one hand under the waistband of her panties and rub her clit.

This was her fantasy after all, wasn’t it? She ought to be able to do what she wanted. In the past, she had often been upset with herself for not taking the initiative in her dreams. Like the time she’d dreamt about having sex with Jon Bon Jovi, only to have him say that he wanted to bang Violet instead, but that Dori could stay and watch if she wanted to. How could she have allowed herself to be tossed aside in her somnolant state? She’d been annoyed at Violet for a week, without ever explaining why.

Still, something kept her from the act of public masturbation, and she simply watched, memorizing each frame for later use.

Gael was handsome, without a doubt. The silver in his hair seemed only to emphasize his good looks. Now that she was an adult, too, she could finally appreciate just how attractive he was. The fact that he and Bette were doing coke didn’t make Dori less interested. She was amazed at how unabashed the two were in their vices, and she realized that she found their lack of inhibitions defiantly sexy.

Because now, Gael was standing up, and he gracefully spun Bette around, so that her palms were flat on the bricks and his body was directly behind hers. He started fast, slamming against Bette, thrusting into her at a speeded up rhythm, and Bette was groaning as if the pleasure was too much for her to handle in silence. God, the woman was sexy. She had her head back, her mouth open, eyes shut tight. Gael kept her moving to his own inner beat, hands on her hips, pummeling her.

Dori was going to have to give in. Any moment, she might simply come from the proximity to their pleasure. Like winning a contact high at a party where the marijuana smoke reached the ceiling. A contact orgasm. Was there such a thing? Could she get off simply from watching?

Gingerly, she pressed the heel of her palm against her pussy. Even through the barrier of her white minidress and nude-colored panties beneath, she could feel exactly how wet she was. Good sex begets good sex. That’s what Violet always said. The fact that she’d been on a cold streak until hooking up with Luke flickered through her mind. She’d had no desire for the past few months to be with anyone sexually. But now look at her. First, she’d been both Dominatrix and captive to the King of her high school. Now, she was nothing more than a Peeping Tom, palm dancing in circles over her sex, fingers cupping through the two layers of her clothing. After only seconds, she was forced to bite down on the groan of pleasure that threatened to escape from her own lips.

Still, she didn’t want to be seen, to be caught.

She only wanted to watch.

She couldn’t remember ever having watched anything like this before. On her twenty-first birthday, she’d walked into an unlocked unisex bathroom at Zebra in the city to find two men fucking. She’d been drunk enough to stop and stare for a moment, forever memorizing the image, and the men hadn’t seemed to mind. And then she’d muttered apologies – For what? For the fact that they’d left the door unlocked? – and scurried back to the table to tell Violet what she’d seen.

But this was different. She wasn’t apologizing. She wasn’t making her presence known in any form. She was simply gazing in wonder.

Gael said something to Bette after a few more thrusts, and the woman pulled forward with agonizing slowness. Dori caught a quick glimpse of Gael’s cock, and she drew in her breath at the length. Bette was a lucky girl, wasn’t she? Then Dori saw Bette turn around and go down on her knees, not seeming to feel the dirt and grit through her stockings. Or not caring at the bite of pain, if she felt it at all. Slowly, Bette began to slowly lick her own sweet juices off the man’s glistening rod, and Gael put his hands on Bette’s shoulders and moaned.

A fresh shudder traveled up Dori’s spine at the vision.

There was something so damn dirty about that to Dori. Something crazy sexy about the sight, as well. Did Bette enjoy the way she tasted? She seemed to. She sighed and licked her lips when she paused for breath. And there was no question at all about whether Gael enjoyed the way Bette’s mouth felt on him. Dori could tell from the way he stood, from the way his body seemed suddenly to grow tense, that he was close to release. She wondered if Bette would drink him dry, or if he would pull back from her sweet mouth before he came. Would he decorate her skin with the milky drops of his pleasure, or would he shoot against the burnt-red brick wall, using his own come to add his own graffiti there? Which concept did Dori find sexier? She didn’t know.

All she knew was that this was better than any porn she’d ever seen. Being close enough to feel a part of the scenario, yet removed enough not to actually have to engage.

Dori watched until an iron-gray alley cat leapt down next to her from the top of the rusty green dumpster, and she jumped. She saw Gael turn his head toward her, and she backed up quickly, retreating toward the mouth of the alley and then onto the main thoroughfare. Her legs felt weak as she walked, but she didn’t slow down the pace. She wanted to get as far away from Gael and Bette as possible.

Maybe they didn’t really exist. Maybe this whole thing was just a dream. But she wasn’t prepared to hang around and find out for sure.

Dori walked quickly to her house, on a mission for the first time since hitting her head on the concrete outside of the Creamery. She realized that she could have gone here right from the start. Gael had given her the necessary information earlier in the day: her family was away for the month. There simply had been too many thoughts for her to process at once. But now that she headed through the familiar lanes toward the house she’d grown up in, she remembered that the person who had been planning on house-sitting had canceled at the last minute. Her mother had hired a neighborhood kid to water the plants instead.

She had a month.

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