Sheila and Her Friends, Redux
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This was my first story. As your comments suggested, it sure could use some editing. So with lots of that editing, I consolidated the separate chapters into one novella (21000 plus words) to make it more readable for you, dear reader…
A second part is on the way.
Friends Don’t Eat Friends
In the dark…so hungry, again!
By the ornate column in the old bar stands Sheila, a stunning woman of vastly indeterminate age. She’s in shadow just far enough away so as not to be bothered by the bartender or his customers. Being the residual of her encounters, Sheila wants the babes in the woods, innocents, to bring back what she’s lost long, long ago.
And here they be, the new ones, tantalizing appetizers: The wispy haired red head with sad eyes and an elfin face, her lean body a beautiful tender morsel. The confident salesman on the prowl, his closer’s smile a tad too bright. The hooked-up couple whose touch, cool and calculating, belies hollow enthusiasm.
As she focuses on them, they become satellites in the sun of her subtle yet undeniable attention. One by one they notice the odd warmth, turn instinctively to that beguiling something, felt but unseen, in the dark of the bar. Little movements, a step here, an adjustment there, edging closer, unconsciously, toward the platinum-haired Sheila who is still, quiescent by the column, radiant in ways unseen, like the moon to the ocean. Draw near weaves the call of her attraction as they smile and laugh and do whatever to preen, to show off, to be noticed, to be selected: Please!
Sheila smiles. It is all she needs to do to gather the she-kittens, scampering after their catnip and those puppies all aglow in the scent, tails wagging, dicks-up and ready.
Come home to mama Sheila, thinks. I’m so hungry. (And a little nervous she admits—that unknowingness—so unlikely after these many years.)
Here in Bisbee, Arizona, a mining town turned arty, she’s been an unknowable presence for a long, long time. Small and cliquey, the town hardly remembers her, the traces are faint and to be found in the most unlikely places. The county recorder’s office lists Sheila as the owner of Bisbee’s oldest, now defunct whorehouse, the deed older than the oldest resident, save one–its owner.
Sheila stirs. There’s a problem in this overt stalking. She doesn’t want to draw the unwanted attention nor the fretful memories of the unselected. How could she last so long otherwise? She must winnow them, then send the right one on an unobtrusive search. She eases the attraction and moves away to mollify her unsuspecting devotees. Now she focuses a single intention and draws on an unruly instinct to push it forth: An electric impulse from eye to eye like some strange invisible sigh.
Across the room, Julie feels an unmistakable tingle and wonders, why now? What is this sexual urge when all I’m doing is idly looking at that curious woman by the column, who has somehow slipped away.
There! Just like that stepping out the door. I was going to that place by the Copper Queen anyway…
One to go, a take out bakery for a pretty muffin, her skin a glaze of snowy white butter cream, delicious to lick, Sheila thinks as she stops by a railing to adjust her shoe so that the pretty redhead can catchup.
“These hilly streets are hard on heels,” Julie says as she comes near the strange woman with that fantastic silver hair. Normally shy, she is surprised at her boldness.
“I know,” Sheila says. “It was just vanity to wear them.” Then she reaches out and steadies herself by touching Julie’s shoulder.
Julie is electrified; she holds onto Sheila’s arm like a drowning swimmer, her body sinking. Suddenly both are shuddering, shivers spiking through them. Like stepping from arctic ice into desert sun, their bodies charged.
“Ow!” Julie shouts, “You shocked me. Talk about static!” As she leans against Sheila to keep from falling.
She is trembling and then laughing. “Yeah, we could light up this town! I hope I didn’t scare you,” Sheila says and pats Julie’s arm timidly. (Her mind whirling, Like you scared me–why did I react this way to one of the innocents?)
Julie surprises herself by saying, “We should drink to the newfound lights of Bisbee?” And hopes the woman doesn’t notice her blushing.
“Yes, we should! I’m Sheila…” Instead of squeezing her arm or shaking her hand, she leans into Julie and kisses her cheek lightly.
Julie trembles and says, “Nice to meet you, my name is Julie,” and cannot resist the impulse to brush her fingertips against Sheila’s cheek lingering at her chin as though she too were ready to kiss her.
“Gee, Sheila, I’m usually shy. Here I am acting so…ah familiar. Sorry…”
“No worries,” Sheila says, “let’s make it a funny start for new friends!” (Why would I say that?–It will surely be a very short friendship, Do friends Keçiören Escort eat friends?)
They walk up the hill in the dark, utterly companionable, arms swinging, hands touching, eager to be held; the women oddly at ease in the mystery of each other’s company.
Ahead three shapes silhouetted by a streetlight turn onto their narrow street and walk towards them. Men, their shadows ominous.
Sheila notices Julie tense. “Don’t worry about them,” Sheila says, and takes Julie’s hand.
“They might tease us–or worst,” Julie replies, but squeezes Sheila’s hand tighter.
“We could get lucky,” Sheila murmurs.
“I could use the exercise.”
“If you say so,” Julie says, surprised now at her own sanguine attitude. In fact, she is more excited than afraid. There seems something unassailable, even invincible about the two of them together, electric ladies of the night. She says it aloud, “Electric ladies of the night.”
“I know,” Sheila says, “I heard you the first time.”
Julie stops walking and looks at her new friend. “That’s weird ’cause I didn’t say it out loud the first time. Oh! Oh! Now I can hear you thinking, clear as a bell inside my head, ‘This is so complicated.’— Like your plan for us changed.”
“You know what else, Sheila, I can even tell that you are resisting the change because it so surprising for, your term, an innocent like me.”
Meanwhile the shadows turn into noisy, rowdy men in slouch hats, a sometimes sinister affectation of the town’s bad boys.
“Hellooo there ladies,” one of them leers, his voice filled with false cheer. “You two want some company?” he adds predictably.
“Nope cowboy,” Sheila says pleasantly, still holding Julie’s hand.
“Just cause you like her pretty tits, don’t mean we can’t too!” He says, moving toward them.
Later, Julie can’t remember what possessed her to shift sideways and arc her leg, tilting her foot at an angle so as to strike effortlessly, up and out, to cleanly break his jaw. Sheila stares at her in amazement and thinks, I thought I was tough!
Julie doesn’t miss a beat, “You are girlfriend,” she replies out loud, “I’d be running away madly without you here at my side.”
The man with the broken jaw is moaning, slumped on the street. One of his friends pulls a small-caliber gun and raises his hand to point it at the girls. There is a blur and Julie hears the unmistakable crack of bones breaking (like a wishbone snapping she thinks and then hears Sheila in her mind say, I wish you hadn’t seen that).
No matter, Julie replies silently, you are my hero.
The final man runs past them.
Julie turns around and hugs Sheila and smiles coyly, “What are super girl friends for.”
“You scare me,” Sheila says. “I could probably have talked them out of any problems, you know.”
“I know it now but not before, I guess I was defending your honor.” Julie says thoughtfully.
“My honor? I don’t have any.”
“Yes, yes you do. Even if you do suck their blood,” Julie says and stops and stares, shocked, at her new friend. “Is that what you want to do to me–too?”
The men on the ground are still groaning. The man with the broken hand is crawling toward a board beside the road: The persistence of testosterone.
Julie stares hard at Sheila and then kisses her on the mouth. “Feed on him, I can wait until you stop loving me. Jeez, what melodrama!” She adds as she dabs a tear.
Sheila begins to cry, too, “I don’t get to know what love is…”
Julie holds her tighter then and thinks, I can’t believe I’ve fallen for someone who might break my heart and even kill me. A woman no less!
“You are so funny Julie!” Sheila says, wiping her eyes, as she casually reaches up to stop the board swinging down toward the back of her head. You don’t have to watch this you know.
“Yes, I do.” Julie says. “Friends don’t let friends eat alone…yuk!”
Sheila turns to her meal and lifts the man’s startled body like a rag doll. “I hope you don’t run away after you see this, but if you do I promise not to come after you.”
Julie smiles timidly and stays to watch as Sheila sinks her eye teeth into the squirming man’s neck and silently feeds until he is still.
Oddly, there is not much blood, a dribble here and there, not like the movies at all, Julie thinks.
Julie pulls her away from the man with broken jaw who has passed out. Don’t be greedy girlfriend, she thinks.
Am I still? Sheila wonders and feels a warm sensation when she hears Julie’s silent reply, Best friends for life—my life. And yours. Just don’t eat your friend…
Now Julie has a wad of tissues in her hand and is busy wiping Sheila’s face to remove the traces of the man’s blood, some of it pink from Shiela’s tears, tears that won’t stop.
“Let’s go. Don’t cry my pretty baby vampire.” Julie Etimesgut Escort says aloud but not before she kisses Sheila again on lips that just a moment ago were red with someone’s blood.
You could call that a commitment, Julie thinks. Sheila starts to smile then laughs. Her tears gone now, happy to have a friend–finally.
They go to another bar. This one a relic of countless miners who worked here over the past hundred plus years. An ornamental tin ceiling and a thick wooden bar, old and gouged and battered, but strangely comforting: They both feel it—inviting.
We’ve been here before, Julie thinks, knowing Sheila understands her without a word being spoken, marveling at this weird, wonderful intimacy.
I am older than this bar. I feel as nicked and used as it looks. If it weren’t for the blood, I’d look exactly like one of the too-old whores that worked here in its hay-day. (Jeez, I hope I can block that ugly thought from my new friend, she thinks.)
Julie gently strokes Sheila’s hand as though she were taking the hurt away from an injured child. Didn’t work. I don’t think you’ll ever be an old whore. I love being your new friend, though! This is for you, a kiss wrapped in me, girlfriend! Julie directs this thought at Sheila with a radiant smile. Then she sighs, her eyes misty, and leans over quickly to kiss the top of Sheila’s hand.
“You’re making me embarrassed,” Sheila says out loud, some predator am I, she adds silently.
You’re my favorite and only predator! Won’t you tell me how? (I’m not sure, I mean ‘how,’ Sheila, but you know I also don’t ever want to lose you! Dumb thing to say since I’ve only known you for less than an hour!)
Ever is a really long time, but to tell the truth you had me when you kissed me and called me your baby vampire.
I called you my ‘pretty’ baby vampire. I think you just like the “pretty” part or you’d eat me alive like you wanted too before.
“I know,” Sheila says, aloud “now I’d rather die than hurt you–or let anyone else touch a hair on your sexy head.”
“You probably already know what I want to ask, since you mentioned sexy,” Julie sighs, her blush obvious.
“You want to know about us in bed, doesn’t take a mind reader to figure that out, miss squirmy, my hot little sex muffin. I don’t need any special senses. I can feel your heat and even smell the ambrosia. How tantalizing of you!”
“Well, don’t embarrass me with facts, Vamp!” Julie says and is interrupted from her lustful thoughts by the pretty bartender.
“What’ll it be, ladies?” The bartender smiles, and adds, looking oddly at Sheila, “Are you the Vamp?”
“Yep,” Sheila says, “call me Miss V. Two reds, please, to celebrate my vamphood and my new girlfriend. Pick something mellow and crisp, love.”
“Coming right up, Miss V.” In a few minutes she comes back with two glasses filled to the brim with an excellent red wine. “The first two are on me. Just because you two look so hot together. My name is Lily and I’m jealous, to tell the truth, I feel like I should know you–even though I’m straight.” And smiles wistfully as she moves down the bar to serve another customer.
“Look at her perky ass, Julie, look at it like a man might, see its possibilities, how her fine curves beacon. Isn’t it good enough to eat?
Huh! Julie thinks, is that how you express your attraction to me?
Julie’s is surprised then when she experiences a thought like a delightful giggle, a laugh! It shimmers, tickling her, lighting up her mind.
Yes, my love, she would be exactly that–a gift to you and us–someone to enjoy together so that we don’t overwhelm our…attraction. Sheila is still then her mind almost empty except for a kind of hum that Julie somehow feels in the pit of her stomach.
So you want to seduce her so that we have a…a buffer? “You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” Julie asks aloud for emphasis. She can’t shake an odd sense of protectiveness for the bartender.
I’ve already started seducing her just like I thought I did with you until I … fell.
“Fell?” Julie says.
Yes. The word hovers unspoken like an invitation in her mind.
“Maybe everyone (except men Julie remembers) will be the same. Your powers of seduction will seduce anyone for you?”
“Could be, but during these many years I know an exception when I see it,” Sheila shrugs nervously.
“So what’s this about already seducing her? I didn’t feel that weird attraction like when I could hardly keep from touching you.”
(Jeez, I’m still stroking your hand no wonder we’re drawing attention, she thinks as she looks about the room and finds smiling women and pretty girls looking at them, their wistful smiles a hesitant invitation.)
Better get use to it, sweetie, when the electric ladies of the night shine everyone glows!
Julie Demetevler Escort shyly looks down, blushing. “Sheila,” she whispers, “I’m so wet.”
“I know,” Sheila says, “I think they do too although they can’t quit understand how.”
“OK,” Julie, says, “everyone’s hot and has that loving feeling…but what about the pretty bartender. How does she know she’s the one?”
“I have to kind of snag her like I did you. I need to focus on something attractive to her and to me and I have to isolate her so that I am not randomly heating up the room.”
“That’s cute ‘heating up the room.’ I remember feeling separate and then swoosh there you were in my head.”
“Not everyone gets a swoosh, Julie, you are special. I don’t know why. But just so you know, after all these long years you really are someone to die for.”
“That’s nice! I like you too, but do we have to get to know each other over or even under,” she giggles, “the pretty bartender? You’re sure you won’t get carried away and hurt her?”
Again, a shiver, an odd sensation, something warm and misty makes her look more closely at the bartender.
No, Sheila thinks, we’re going to love the beautiful temple of her body and on her alter we will feed her desire. She will be very happy you chose her.
I chose her…?
Tip Your Lovely Bartender
When the bar closes, Lily gives the tables a last swipe. Sheila and Julie are sitting together at the end of the bar. Lily wonders why she let them stay past closing. She is hurrying, nervously trying to finish the cleanup. Julie gets up and grabs an extra rag and helps with the tables. Lily looks at her gratefully.
Julie tells her, “You don’t have to worry about Miss V who is sitting over there preening herself like an indulgent cat.”
Julie pitches her voice, looking at Sheila meaningfully, and says, “You don’t have to be with us unless you really, really want to. Don’t pay any attention to her mental caresses. Just do whatever you want.”
Lily looks from Julie to Sheila uncertainly. “I don’t know what I want. Both of you are so, so hot,” she says, “I’m scared because this is weird. I told you I’m straight. I’m also, well, excited. I mean like more excited than ever. I want you to like me, to…have sex with me! I feel like a cat in heat, screeching filled with desire, it makes my head spin.”
“Just the way it should be,” Sheila says, as she walks slowly toward them, hips swaying, eyes smiling, breasts lightly bouncing–their perkiness just to let you know. Julie looks at Lily, and tells her, “Here comes your she-mate, Miss Screech, better know what you’re doing.”
Then, Julie reaches out to Lily and puts one hand on her bottom, her fingers dimpling the hollow between her hips, clothed thinly in leopards. Instinctively, the other hand she places in front, firmly on her mound. She holds her hotness steady, enormously pleased with how right this feels, and asks Lily,
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were naked? Would anyone see through these dusty windows?” The question is moot, there is a swirl of air and suddenly Julie feels warm round flesh beneath her hands–the hot plump curve of Lily’s ass. Her other hand feels the silky hair of Lily’s bush, wetting her fingers.
“Guess you are ready, huh?”
“You don’t have any clothes on either,” Lily stares.
“Guess who did that?”
“Tell me again I’ll be OK?”
“Yes, we only want to love you. You are like a delicious salad, between Sheila and me and dinner.”
“Sheila is my personal cliche: She is hungry for love.”
“In all the right places,” Sheila grins, as she drops lightly to her knees, using a pleasingly long tongue, shiny and wet and pink, to trace Julie’s fingers outlined on Lily’s mound.
“God,” Lily moans. “You two are so…so…oh. If you touch me again, I’ll cum just thinking about it.”
“Hope so,” says Julie, kissing her as she slips a finger in between Lily’s hips and touches her bottom, fingers stroking. Sheila’s tongue slips past the fingers of Julie’s other hand, now spread wide to give her access to Lily’s pussy.
Lily can’t think, all she can do is feel the fingers probing, the tongue licking, and then her clitty, her sweet little clitty, being nuzzled between Julie’s fingers as Sheila’s long tongue takes ownership and swirls her over the edge, again and again, until there is no stopping her greatest cum ever.
All the while Julie and Lily kiss and kiss, randy angels from the past gone wild.
Lily settles down enough to breathe. She moans again, “This may surprise you but I’ve never been with a woman, let alone, two.”
“Well, join the crowd,” Julie says, “I’ve never touched anyone like I’m touching you. Not even Sheila. Sheila said we needed you as a buffer…if this is buffering, what’s the real thing?”
“Happy to be your first, really, really happy!” Lily says laughing. She is blinking rapidly and looking from Julie to Sheila with moon eyes like a teenager in love.
Aren’t you girls, sweet, Sheila thinks.
You sure–you started it?
Let’s focus on Lily, I want her to come big at least three times.
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