Happy Endings

A Short Story by Marlene Sexton

Copyright Marlene Sexton 2011

Published by Red Heels Press at Smashwords

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Emma stood and stretched next to the Volvo she had borrowed from her friend and editor. She wasn’t used to driving and it was taking a toll on her back even though she’d only been on the road for a couple of hours. It was another half hour or so to the bed and breakfast was head to in Connecticut, but it was getting dark and the roads were icy. Still it was nice to be out of the city and all the hustle and bustle.

The cold late afternoon air and the smell of the ocean coming from Fishers Island Sound were invigorating and Emma climbed back into the car and continued on her way. She needed to get away from her noisy flat and find some peace and quiet to finish the biography she was ghost writing for a fairly famous stage actress. She didn’t normally take that kind of work, but times were tough and Emma’s own macabre poetry and dark horror stories just weren’t selling. She needed some money and this particular actress paid well and was easy enough to work with.

Emma finally made it to the bed and breakfast, a large, old colonial style home set amongst pastures and orchards. It was about six o’clock and already dark, but the innkeeper, a short and stocky woman with short, graying hair, came out to greet Emma anyway.

“You must be Emma!” The middle-aged woman exclaimed. “We we’re getting worried about you with all the ice on the roads. I’m Gladys McGillicuddy and this is my husband Oscar,” she said as she pointed to the thin but hardy looking man just emerging from the inn.

“Hi, I’m Emma. I’m not used to driving, especially on icy roads at night. I went really, really slow.”

“Well, come on in and we’ll show you to your room. You practically have the place to yourself. We don’t get many folks mid-week in the winter, you know. No, no let Oscar get those bags.” Gladys told Emma as she tried to carry her own bags.

“Thank you, Oscar,” Emma replied. She already liked Gladys, who reminded her of her own mother who passed away when she was only thirteen. Oscar seemed like a nice man also, though he apparently didn’t say much. They were a cute couple.

Gladys showed Emma her room on the second floor overlooking the pastures across the road with a view of the sound when it was light Gladys promised. It was perfect even if Emma couldn’t see the supposed pastures or the picturesque Fishers Island Sound. Quiet, cozy and cheerful. Not at all like Emma’s dark and moody apartment in the city. She pulled out her laptop and set it on the small desk while Gladys went on about the inn.

“...and dinner is at five. Sorry you missed it, but I’ll whip something up for you so you don’t have to go to bed hungry. We also usually serve wine and dessert at seven, but since it’s only you and the Finnegans up in the suite and you got here so late, we won’t bother tonight. They keep to themselves anyway. We’ve barely seen them at all. Young couple, so they are probably busy, you know.”

Gladys winked and Emma giggled. She loved how quaint and perfect this all was. She thanked Gladys as the innkeeper turned down the bed and then left Emma to get settled. After Emma shut the door, she fell onto the soft bed and sighed. She hadn’t realized how much she needed this until just that moment. She loved living in the Boston. The nightlife, the interesting people and the parties were all so much fun, but this was nice too.

She suddenly remembered she promised to call her editor, friend and on again, off again girlfriend, Haya, to let her know she had arrived safely. Emma grabbed her iPhone and dialed Haya, a cute, curvy Jewish girl, and told her all about the inn.

“I kind of wish you were with me. It’s so quaint and romantic. I’m not sure Gladys would approve of two girls sharing a room, though. She seems a little old fashioned,” Emma observed.

“I thought we we’re broken up again,” Haya pointed out.

“Just sayin! Anyway, Gladys is bringing me dinner and then I’m going to bed. I’m beat from the drive. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

“OK. Night, Emma.”

“Good night,” Emma said and hung up. She slipped into a flannel nightshirt and big, fluffy slippers. Gladys showed up right then knocking lightly and Emma bid her to come in. Gladys had a small tray with meat, cheese and fruit, a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“You eat meat, don’t you dear?”

“Yes, why?” Emma asked.

“Oh, so many girls from the city don’t, you know. Oscar shot the deer this last fall and made the salami himself. The cheese is from the dairy down the road. I hope you like wine. I certainly do.”

“I love wine, thank you!”

“Mind if I join you, dear?” Gladys asked hopefully.

“No, I’d like the company. Thank you for the snack. I’ve only been here half an hour and I love the place already. I feel like I’m back at home,” Emma said as she held her glass while Gladys poured her a generous amount of red wine. Emma was fond of dark, Gothic styles, but she missed the cheeriness of her childhood home and the inn reminded her of life before her mother died.

Gladys took a seat on the bed opposite from Emma and sipped her wine. Emma ate the sliced salami, sharp cheddar and apple wedges, hungrier than she realized. The two women talked of Emma’s journey and the city as they polished off the bottle of wine. Gladys left to get another and they started working on that one too.

“One of the benefits of owning a bed and breakfast, you know. Not only do Oscar and I have a big wine cellar, but it’s tax deductible too!” Gladys exclaimed as she giggled and then asked, “So, Emma, what do you do in the city?”

“I’m a writer,” Emma replied.

“What do you write? Books? I read a lot of books up here in the winter, maybe I’ve read one of yours.”

“I doubt it. I write poetry and novels, mostly horror. I’m not really a happy endings kind of girl. I don’t really believe in them”

“Oh! I don’t like horror,” Gladys said sincerely.

“Well, apparently you’re not alone. It doesn’t sell well so I take on freelance work to pay the bills. I don’t like it as much, but a job is a job, right?” Emma explained.

“So, what’s a bright, pretty, young girl like you doing without a husband?” Gladys suddenly changed the subject. There it was, but Emma didn’t mind. She knew being a lesbian didn’t sit well with most folks, especially in the country, but she didn’t hold it against them. She had found most people didn’t judge her solely on her sexuality even if they generally had a negative view of it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, too personal wasn’t it?” Gladys apologized, apparently sensing Emma’s hesitation.

“No, its fine. I’ll be honest Gladys. I’m a lesbian. I’m not into men. I like them well enough as friends...well I guess I do. I don’t know many straight men. I like the gay men I know and the few straight ones I’ve gotten to know were nice enough. I’m just not attrac...Oh, that’s probably T.M.I.”

“T.M.I.?” Gladys asked.

“Too much information.”

“Oh! No, no dear. I’m not worried about it. Just curious is all. Live and let live I always say. As long as you’re happy. Do you have a girlfriend?” Gladys asked as she poured more wine. Emma was pleasantly surprised by the woman’s attitude.

“No. Well, sort of. I have an on again, off again relationship with my editor, Haya. It’s off right now,” Emma explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re a cute girl. What are you, thirty? You have time to find the right girl. Love always finds you when you least expect it, you know?”

I’m twenty-nine. I guess I am young, but I feel old. I’ll be thirty next summer. I feel like life is slipping away,” Emma said. She knew she was still relatively young, but it wasn’t how she felt. She was cute, however. Thin and pale, with dark hair and eyes. Emma usually wore dark clothes and more eye make up than she should, but it matched how she felt most of the time.

“Oh, Emma, you’re so young still. Wait until you’re my age. My goodness! Look at the time. I’d better let you get to bed. I’ve taken up enough of your evening. Besides, two bottles is my limit,” Gladys said and then snickered at herself, clearly a little tipsy.

“No, no. I’ve really enjoyed this. Thanks for keeping me company. I am tired, though,” Emma said beginning to feel the wine herself.

“Well, goodnight, dear. Breakfast is at 8:00 am. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night, Gladys. See you in the morning.”

Emma turned out the lamp by the bed and was asleep almost immediately. She dreamed of her mom, but at times Gladys took her place. Later she dreamed of Haya and then other women she had been with over the years. In the early hours of the morning, a new woman she didn’t know came to her in her dreams and they made love.

Emma woke up at about six. She pulled up the big comforter to ward off the cold. She could see her breath and the windows were frosty. The approaching sunrise bathed the room in a dull light. Despite the cold, she was flush and her face felt hot. The dream she had been having was one of the most intense she could remember. The details were elusive, but the feelings it generated were vivid. She did remember that she was about to climax as she came awake. She hated when that happened.

The wine and all the talk of finding love with Gladys had obviously worked their way into Emma’s subconscious. Still, she didn’t really feel frustrated. She felt satisfied somehow and full of energy. She got out of bed despite the cold, turned on her laptop and wrote until it was time to shower and head downstairs for breakfast.

Emma didn’t work on the biography she’d come here to finish, but instead wrote of the inn when it was a farmhouse long ago. Part of the reason she came here was to find a little inspiration. Apparently, she had. The ideas just came to her, but they were good. Really good! This could sell, Emma thought.

~~~

Breakfast was incredible and filling. Biscuits and deer sausage gravy, poached eggs, hash browns, juice and coffee. Emma was stuffed. The Finnegans weren’t there, just Gladys and Oscar. Oscar did talk a bit, but Gladys dominated the conversation. She regaled Emma with stories about the local area, its history and even some gossip about people Emma didn’t know. Emma loved every minute. She missed this family atmosphere.

After finishing her third cup of coffee, Emma excused herself to go for a short walk before she got to work. She mentioned how cold her room was and Oscar promised to look into it. Gladys told her about a nice trail in the woods that led to a place with a stunning view of the sound. Emma took the advice and, after bundling up, headed for the trail.

Gladys was right. The view was amazing. It only took about twenty minutes to get to the low ridge where Emma could see the sound and the pastured below the inn. She sat on a nearby fallen log and drank in the serenity of the place. She thought if she ever made it big as a novelist, she’d buy a farmhouse up here somewhere. Of course, she’d also have a nice condo in Boston. She loved it there too. However, she knew that would never happen if she didn’t get back to work so she headed back down to the inn.

About halfway down the trail, Emma saw a woman ahead through the bare trees. She assumed it was Mrs. Finnegan and tried to catch up to introduce herself. The woman disappeared behind a thick stand of trees and Emma lost her. Oh well, she’d probably see them at dinner or at dessert afterward, Emma thought. She returned to the inn and didn’t give it a second thought.

Emma banged out the last few chapters of the biography before noon and intended to begin her first rewrites after lunch, but the story she had begun writing that morning wouldn’t stop intruding on her thoughts. She decided that after lunch she would work on the new story. For lunch, she decided to wander up the road to a fish market Gladys had suggested. Emma loved fresh seafood.

Even though it was cold, she walked along the nearby docks after eating. After all, this was a working vacation and she was determined to make sure she got a good dose of the vacation part. She wandered around for longer than she intended, but was back in front of her laptop around half past two.

Her room was warm again and she assumed Oscar had fixed the heat. During her walk, ideas for her new novel, and she was sure it would be novel now, came almost too fast for her to commit to memory. This place and the inn seemed to speak to Emma.

She wrote almost fifteen thousand words before Gladys came to get her for dinner. The words just flowed from her mind and they had the makings of a great story. Romance, betrayal, redemption and secret longings, it was all there. Emma was amazed what getting out of her element could do for her imagination. She wished she didn’t have a deadline to meet on the autobiography so she could concentrate on her own work, but she did have to meet a deadline. However, she made a deal with herself that she would work hard to finish the paid work tonight and tomorrow and then spend the last day at the inn on her own project.

Dinner was fantastic. Pot roast, potatoes and fresh rolls with real butter. Simple but amazingly tasty. The Finnegans weren’t at dinner either and Emma was beginning to think they were figments of Gladys’ imagination. She mentioned seeing Mrs. Finnegan, but Gladys told her that they had left early in the morning to spend the day in Mystic. She supposed it could have been Mrs. Archer, who Gladys had mentioned owned the acreage behind the inn, out for a morning walk. Emma thought that must have been whom she saw.

Since the Finnegans weren’t back and had informed Gladys that they would be dining out, no wine and dessert was scheduled tonight either. That suited Emma just fine since it gave her more time to get the autobiography in shape to deliver to Haya upon her return to Boston and still free up the last day for her own work.

Gladys invited Emma to sit with her and open another bottle of wine but Emma declined. However, she promised to join Gladys tomorrow evening if she finished her work. Gladys looked disappointed initially, but lit up when Emma agreed to drink with her tomorrow.

Emma retired to her room and worked until after midnight. It was a grind, but she made some real progress and was sure she could finish by tomorrow afternoon if she kept up the pace. She backed up the file onto a USB drive and shut down her laptop, then quietly went to the shared bathroom down the hall. She caught sight of a woman in a blue dressing gown climbing the stairs to the suite in the attic space. Mrs. Finnegan, Emma assumed, though she hadn’t heard them return. So, she did exist.

Emma returned to her room and climbed into bed. As she was drifting off to sleep, she heard a woman’s voice moaning. It was barely audible, but clearly, she was in the throws of passion. The Finnegans were going at it apparently. The moaning stopped and Emma thought as she drifted off to sleep that Mr. Finnegan sure didn’t last very long. She smiled at the little joke and was asleep.

~~~

A woman came to Emma’s bed. It was the same woman from the dream the night before she was sure. She couldn’t make out the woman’s face. It was too dark. The woman slipped the flannel nightshirt over Emma’s head and began sucking her left nipple. The woman’s touch was electric. Emma moaned as the woman moved to her other breast and then kissed her way down Emma’s nude torso. Emma’s soft, alabaster skin tingled as the woman’s hands lightly caressed her. The room seemed lighter suddenly, but it was filled with mist. Emma could barely see beyond the end ofher nose but she felt the woman begin to lap at her pussy.

Emma was so wet and aroused. The woman’s touch was soft, almost ethereal, but her tongue was insistent and soon Emma was in the midst of an intense orgasm. It was like nothing she had felt before. It almost seemed as if the woman was infusing her with energy that spread throughout her body. Emma’s skin was beaded with perspiration and it felt as if it was a hundred degrees in the room. Emma’s bobbed, dark hair was sticking to her face and neck. Her small breasts were heaving as she fought to catch her breath. This woman was incredible.

Finally, Emma lost all control and was screaming loudly as the woman had two fingers inside her pussy and sucked at Emma’s clit. Emma’s hips bucked, trying to get the woman’s fingers deeper. The orgasm seemed to go on forever. Wave after wave of pleasure engulfed Emma. She felt as if she would lose herself in the pleasure forever and then suddenly the woman stopped and climbed next to Emma. The woman kissed her softly and held Emma close...

~~~

Emma awoke nude, her comforter had slipped off the end of the bed. Her nightshirt was on the floor next to her the bed. Like yesterday, it was freezing in her room. The windows were frosty, but the light was brighter than the previous morning. She grabbed the comforter and wrapped it around her naked body. She checked her phone. It was 7:32. Unlike last night, this dream left her feeling horny and frustrated, despite the intense orgasms she experienced. The dream was already becoming hazy and elusive in her memory, but the intensity of the pleasure was still clear to Emma.

Emma reached between her legs and stroked the thin patch of trimmed hair above her pussy. Then she slipped a finger into her unsurprisingly wet pussy. It felt good. Unlike the dream, this was real. God damn it, she was horny. Emma got into a slow rhythm that she knew would lead to a satisfying orgasm. Suddenly, a knock came at the door and Emma slipped her hand from between her legs, startled.

“Sorry, Emma, but it’s almost breakfast and I wasn’t sure if you were up,” came Gladys’ voice from the hallway.

“Yeah, I’m coming. Be down in twenty.”

“I’ll keep breakfast warm then, dear.”

She heard Gladys walk away. “Damn!” Emma cursed. She really wanted to come, but she was hungry too. Famished in fact. She felt like she had run a marathon during the night. By the looks of the room and the bedding, she had been thrashing around all night. Emma wasn’t entirely sure how she had shed her nightshirt, either. In any case, she had to work today, so she got up, showered quickly and went downstairs to eat.

Of course, the Finnegans were absent again. They drove to Bridgeport and took a ferry into the city for the day. They must be tired, Emma thought, since they were up so late making love. Gladys had mentioned they were young. Emma used to be able to have sex all night and function the next day but at almost thirty, it wasn’t nearly as easy as it used to be but Emma rarely turned down sex to get some more sleep.

Emma ate her share of breakfast and more. Today Gladys made waffles with maple syrup from a neighbor’s farm. Emma asked Gladys if she could have a bigger cup for the coffee. She explained she was going to be working hard all day and needed lots of “go juice”. Gladys brought her a big travel mug full of steaming coffee. Emma thanked her and asked if she would bring lunch to her room and then assured Gladys she would be done later that afternoon and looked forward to a few bottles of wine that evening. Gladys perked up at that and promised to make sure the house was quiet so Emma could work in peace.

~~~

It was four-thirty when Emma decided she had done all she could do. She was starting to make changes for the sake of making changes and second guessing edits she had been satisfied with earlier. It was time to stop. She backed up the file and closed down her laptop. She was exhausted, but it was finished. She realized she had barely touched the sandwich Gladys had brought her at noon and that she was famished.

She was really looking forward to dinner and then dessert and wine with Gladys. She really didn’t expect the Finnegans to show up. If she hadn’t seen Mrs. Finnegan last night, Emma would have questioned Gladys’ two-bottle limit. Gladys talked about them, but nobody ever saw them. She decided to take another shower and then dress for dinner. She didn’t bring anything fancy, but her sweats and loose sweater she was working in seemed a little too drab and dingy.

After a quick shower, she dressed in her room and realized it was warm again. She had forgotten to tell Oscar about it being cold again that morning, but remembered that after breakfast the warmth had returned. It was an old house and Emma figured that’s just how things were. She slipped into her jeans, a warm sweater and some comfortable old flats and headed downstairs.

Dinner was delicious and as Emma expected, the Finnegans were not back from the city yet. She didn’t even ask about them. Gladys served them the most delicious Shepard’s pie Emma had ever had. It really hit the spot and Emma had three servings. Emma knew she was gaining weight staying at the inn and would have to hit the gym when she got home. She wasn’t looking forward to that, but it wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying Gladys’ cooking either.

After dinner Emma, Gladys and Oscar sipped coffee as Oscar told them stories from his childhood growing up in Maine and his time in Vietnam. He left out the bad stuff and just waxed nostalgic about his buddies and their adventures on leave in Japan. He was really funny and Emma enjoyed his stories. Even Gladys didn’t seem to mind all the stories about Geisha girls.

After a bit, Oscar excused himself to go read and Gladys began clearing the dishes. Emma insisted on helping. Gladys resisted, but when Emma suggested they could crack open a bottle of wine while they worked, she relented. They cleared the table and Emma began doing the dishes as Gladys fetched a bottle of Merlot. They drank the entire bottle before they were done, talking and laughing as much as doing any actual work.

They retired to the main room and continued to drink, talk and laugh. Soon they emptied another bottle of wine and Gladys got up to retrieve a third and get some apple pie for each of them. The apples, Gladys explained, came from the trees up on the hill behind the inn. She seemed proud of that.

While Gladys was getting the wine and dessert, Emma looked around the room. The walls were dark paneling and covered with old paintings, photos and shelves with all manner of knick-knacks. Some of it looked really old; some looked like it had been placed there recently. A few portraits around the room looked as old as the house, including one of a stunning young girl. Emma wondered who she was.

Gladys returned and Emma forgot to inquire about the portraits. The pie was delicious and so was the wine. Emma was feeling rather warm and comfy, her head spinning just enough to be pleasant. Gladys tried to pry subtly into Emma’s private life, obviously curious about her choice of lifestyle. Emma thought it was cute and gladly told Gladys as much as she wanted to know.

Gladys seemed shocked at times and curious at others. Emma could see that most of it was foreign to Gladys, but that she had a very open mind. Emma thought that if Gladys was twenty years younger, she might show her a thing or two. The thought seemed so out of place, that Emma chalked it up to the wine.

“So, how did the book turnout?” Gladys asked clearly becoming flustered at all the frank talk of girl on girl relations, changing the subject.

“Oh, it’s done and not to shabby. It still needs to be edited by Haya, but I’ve done everything I can,” Emma replied.

“So then you have a free day tomorrow? You should go see Mystic. It’s a neat place. You’d like it.”

“Actually, I’ve started a new novel. It’s actually based on the inn. I just started getting ideas and writing them down. This place has been very inspiring. I promised myself that if I got the manuscript done today, I’d spend tomorrow working on the new book. I’d love to go explore the area, but I’m very excited about this book. You don’t mind me writing about your inn, do you?”

“Oh, heaven’s no! Oscar and I would be honored. What’s it about?”

“Kind of a period romance-slash-thriller. It’s not my usual kind of book but as I said, this place kind of inspires me. The main character is a woman named, Rebecca. The plot is pretty firm, but the details are still kind of coming to me.”

“The daughter of the folks that built this house back in 1769 was named Rebecca. Did you read that somewhere?” Gladys asked.

“No, I don’t think so. That’s kind of wild. Maybe I did read or hear about her,” Emma theorized. It was strange, but Rebecca wasn’t exactly an uncommon name. Probably a coincidence.

“That’s her picture over there, or so I’m told. It’s been hanging on the wall since we bought the place. Maybe you should do a little research and make it one of those, what do they call them...?”

“Historical drama?” Emma offered and she turned to look at the portrait again.

“Oh, yes, that’s it. I have some things you could look over if you’d like.”

Emma turned back to Gladys, “I’d like that, thank you. I’ll make you a bargain. If it gets published, I’ll make sure you and Oscar are mentioned in the acknowledgments and I’ll send you some free copies. Deal?”

“Oh! That would be exciting. Yes, yes, we have a deal. Emma, you’re such a sweetheart. I hope you come back here. I really have taken a liking to you, dear.”

Emma blushed, “Same here, Gladys. I’ve only known you for a few days, but you feel like my second mom.”

Gladys stood and went to Emma and hugged her, “You’re like the daughter I never had, dear,” and she started to cry. Emma hugged her back. It felt so good. She missed her real mom and Gladys filled that void, if only temporarily. She wondered again if Gladys was younger if things wouldn’t have turned out differently.

They had a connection and Emma felt a deep affection for the woman. The idea of making love to Gladys seemed a little strange given the circumstances, but it wasn’t repulsive either. Under different circumstances, a different time and place, who knew? It must be the wine, Emma thought, wondering how she had returned to this line of thinking.

They hugged and cried a little more and then each headed off to bed. Emma felt so warm and happy. The last few days had been some of the best of her life. She had met Gladys, finished her latest job and begun a great new book of her own. She knew she’d be back here many times in the future and thought about her little fantasy of buying a farmhouse here.

It occurred to Emma that her usually dreary outlook seemed much brighter here at the inn. She usually wasn’t so optimistic. Like she told Gladys, she didn’t believe in happy endings. When Emma’s mom died, things got dark and they seemed to stay that way. Emma wouldn’t call it depression, but she lost her optimism. Life became about the struggle and thoughts of happier times seemed out of place. However, in the last few days, those thoughts returned.

Emma was tired and drunk. She didn’t take her musing too seriously as she readied for bed. It was the wine, she thought again. Emma climbed under her covers and sighed. She did love it here. Gladys, the peace and quiet and just the feeling of the whole place made Emma happy. She fell asleep still smiling.

~~~

Emma awoke from a dreamless sleep. It was nearly pitch dark in her room, only starlight providing some barely perceptible illumination. She felt a presence and then her door quietly clicked shut. There was someone in her room!

“Who’s there?” she asked louder than she intended.

“Shhh,”came the response, “you’ll wake my husband, dear.”

Was that Gladys? Emma’s mind reeled. What was Gladys doing in her room in the middle of the night? She could barely make out the figure in the darkness, but could see the figure was removing a robe.

“What are you doing in here?” Emma whispered.

“I’ve been watching you, Emma. I must say that I find you quite attractive. I wanted to say something earlier, but if my husband were to discover my passions, he would surely be cross with me and turn me out into the night. I hope this is not too forward of me. It seems I am powerless before your beauty and grace.”

Gladys sounded strange, but she was whispering. Gladys had obviously been thinking the same thing Emma had. Emma wasn’t sure if she should do this. Her feelings were mixed. Gladys was such a sweet lady, but Emma had reservations. She was afraid what this might do to Gladys and wine or no wine, Emma wasn’t sure she really felt that way towards the woman.

The dark figure climbed under the covers before Emma could respond. The woman’s skin was cold, and Emma realized the room was freezing again. This wasn’t Gladys. The woman’s skin was soft and silky, her body small and slender. Mrs. Finnegan? Who else could it be? Emma thought she should be frightened, but she wasn’t. In fact, she had an overwhelming sense of well-being.

“Who are you?” Emma asked quietly.

“I am from upstairs. My name is Beth. You saw me last night, did you not?”

“Yes, I did. In the blue gown?”

“Indeed. Please forgive my forwardness. I know this isn’t proper, but you’ve occupied my thoughts ever since you arrived at this house. I am drawn to you in a way I cannot explain.”

“I don’t even know what you look like. I feel like this should be strange, that all of this should disturb me, but it doesn’t. Why are you here?” Emma asked.

“Why I am the woman of whom you’ve dreamed. I’ve come to share with you the forbidden pleasures only another woman can bestow. Why even now, I am already flush with...anticipation. Please, do not turn me away. I need you, Emma,” Beth pleaded.

The girl of whom she’d dreamed? She couldn’t have meant that literately but considering the dreams she had been having the past few nights, it was curious. The dream last night was different and not fueled by wine like the night before. Maybe seeing Beth at the stairs and hearing her moans of pleasure had worked their way into her subconscious. But how could Beth have known any of that? Still, she had a feeling that Beth was indeed the woman in her dream last night.

“Emma?” Beth prodded.

“Sorry, this is all so sudden, Beth. I’m a little overwhelmed and still a little groggy, but laying next you feels nice. I want to see you. Can we turn on a light?”

“No, please do not! I need the darkness. I am faint of heart. I cannot bear to suffer the light. Please?” Beth pleaded

Emma could not put her finger on it, but something wasn’t quite right. Maybe it was the way Beth spoke or just waking so suddenly. Emma wasn’t uneasy. In fact, just the opposite, but something nagged at her. “OK, we’ll leave the light off. I get a little bashful when I’m naked too. So, what now?”

“Emma, I would very much like it if you would take the lead. I am not well versed in the art of Sapphic love, or love of any kind for that matter. I defer to your expertise.”

Emma guessed that meant she should take the initiative. Beth spoke so strangely and with an accent she couldn’t quite place. She’d never heard where the Finnegans were from. In any case, the accent and the way she spoke was kind of sexy. Maybe Beth was from Nova Scotia. People talked funny up there, didn’t they?

Emma sat up on one elbow and cupped Beth’s breast in her hand as she bent to kiss her. Beth shuddered, obviously excited. She was still cold, but in a pleasant sort of way. Her cool skin was so soft, so smooth. Emma kissed her deeply and was already lost in this girl.

Emma had experienced one-night stands before and had been with inexperienced girls too, but this was different somehow. She seemed to have a connection with Beth she couldn’t explain, almost as if she knew the girl. Kissing her was so erotic. Emma needed more.

She began kissing Beth’s neck and then her breasts. They were soft and full, large for such a thin girl and perfect for playing with. The lack of light meant Emma had to rely on her sense of touch. She could feel the goose bumps appear on Beth’s skin as she caressed her and felt her nipples harden as she sucked them. Emma was so aroused, her pussy getting wet and beginning to feel warm. She adjusted her position so she could rub her pussy on Beth’s thigh.

Beth hardly made a noise, but her breathing deepened and quickened. Emma knew how to make her vocalize her pleasure. She kissed her way down Beth’s belly and began to blow on Beth’s pussy. Beth let a small moan escape her lips, but when Emma ran her tongue over Beth’s pussy, she stiffened and moaned aloud. Emma teased Beth for a while longer before she slipped her tongue inside Beth’s moistening pussy. Beth began breathing louder and moaning. Emma could sense Beth wanted to touch her.

“Beth, it’s OK to touch me,” she assured the girl. Beth did just that, placing her hands on Emma’s head, gently forcing it back between her legs, which she then wrapped around Emma’s body. Emma giggled at Beth’s sudden activity, as if she was waiting for permission. Emma continued to eat Beth’s pussy, loving the taste of the girl.

Beth began to writhe and moan more loudly and then she convulsed and whimpered as she had her first orgasm of the night. Emma wished Beth could make some noise, but she knew this wasn’t the place or time. However, Emma continued to pleasure the girl orally. Emma loved pleasing women with her mouth, especially when they were as responsive as Beth was.

Beth convulsed again and pressed Emma’s head more firmly into her pussy. Emma sucked Beth’s clit and slipped a finger into Beth’s tight pussy and began fucking the girl. Beth went over the edge. She began crying out loudly and Emma, lifted her head just enough to tell her to use a pillow. Beth seemed to understand and covered her face with Emma’s pillow as she continued to scream.

Emma refused to stop, even as the girl seemed to be trying to escape from the pleasure. Emma just wrapped her hands around Beth’s thighs and held tight as she teased Beth’s clit with her tongue. Beth could only stand one more intense orgasm before she begged Emma to stop.

“I cannot take any more of this, Emma! Please!” Beth hissed, attempting to suppress the urge to scream aloud. Emma complied, but not before giving Beth’s engorged clit one last suck, which caused Beth to shudder with joy. Emma then climbed alongside Beth and kissed her. Beth sucked her own juices from Emma’s tongue, apparently enjoying her own taste.

“Did you like that, Beth?” Emma asked already knowing the answer.

“Oh, yes! Emma that was wonderful. Truly, you are skilled in the art of making love. I cannot recall experiencing such pleasure. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Beth. I’m still not sure exactly why you’re here, but I’m glad you came.”

“Emma, I would like to return your affections. May I?”

“Yeah, I’d like that, Beth.”

Beth gently rolled Emma on to her back and kissed her deeply. Then began running her hand up and down Beth’s body letting it settle eventually on her pussy. Beth kissed Emma’s neck as she rubbed her hand softly up and down Emma’s pussy. Beth’s touch was electric, sending shivers up and down Emma’s body. Then Beth began to lick and suck Emma’s nipples as she rubbed Emma’s pussy harder.

Emma noticed the room was freezing and was sure she could have seen her breath if the room was brighter, but she wasn’t cold despite the comforter having fallen to the floor while she was pleasing Beth. Beth’s body was warm now but her hands were still freezing. It felt good, however, adding to the sensation.

Beth found Emma’s clit and began rubbing softly. Emma spread her legs to give Beth better access. Beth began rubbing faster and harder and Emma’s climax built within her. Suddenly the sensation was too much and she came. She tried to be quiet, but she couldn’t help gasping aloud as Beth rubbed her clit furiously. Emma placed her hand under Beth’s chin and raised her face to meet her own. She slipped her tongue into Beth’s mouth and Beth sucked it hard.

Emma was coming, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her body. She was all but screaming into Beth’s mouth as she was losing control. Beth continued to tease Emma’s clit and now Emma was squirming and writhing, unable to take the intense sensations. Beth stopped sucking Emma’s tongue and bit her nipple hard as she pressed harder on Emma’s clit and then finally stopped.

Emma stiffened, then relaxed and exhaled. She was spent and her muscles ached from tensing as she came. Beth kissed her softly and then laid her head on Emma’s breasts. The women lay there recuperating for many long pleasurable minutes. Emma could still feel the room was frigid, but she wasn’t cold in the slightest. She caressed Beth’s back as Beth drew circles on Emma’s belly with her finger.

Finally, Beth broke the silence, “Emma, was that pleasurable?”

“God, yes, Beth. That was incredible. I haven’t come that hard in along time. Have you been with a woman before?”

“No, not in the flesh. I’ve only imagined making love to another woman. My imaginings do not compare well with the actual act, however. I enjoyed giving you pleasure almost as much I enjoyed receiving. I am glad I have finally experienced the forbidden love of another woman.”

“Well, for a novice, you’re pretty good!”

“Thank you. I’m glad I was able to give you such pleasure.”

“Wanna do it again?” Emma asked hopefully.

“Oh, yes. Can we?”

“Most definitely, Beth!” Emma said glad, ready for another round. Emma sat up, turned her body, and began to climb over the top of Beth.

“What are you doing?” Beth asked, confused.

“This will let you give and receive at the same time. Trust me, it’s fantastic.”

“I trust you, Emma,” Beth replied and Emma let her pussy settle over Beth’s mouth and then lowered her torso onto Beth’s and began licking Beth’s pussy. Beth didn’t hesitate either, slipping her tongue into Emma’s pussy as if she we’re kissing it. It felt terrific. Emma slowly teased Beth’s clit with her tongue and lips. Both women seemed content to slow things down for a while.

After several minutes, Emma slipped a finger into Beth’s pussy. Emma tried to fit two fingers into the girl, but she was too tight. Beth moaned and bucked her hips, clearly enjoying the penetration along with Emma’s tongue on her clit. Beth followed suit and replaced her tongue with a finger in Emma’s pussy. However, she soon figured out she could fit two fingers inside and did.

Emma loved this position. Nothing was better, she reasoned, than a pussy in her face while another girl ate her. Well, almost nothing. She began rubbing Beth’s anus with the index finger of her other hand, smearing it with saliva and pussy juice. Beth moaned, apparently enjoying the anal play. Emma decided it was time to get serious.

She began humping Beth’s face and stopped tonguing Beth’s pussy long enough to say, “Trust me, Beth.”

“Umm, mmm,” was the only response Emma got and all she needed. She wet her finger, pressed it against Beth’s ass, and began to slip it in. Beth began humping back, moaning loudly into Emma’s pussy. It took a little effort, but soon Emma had her finger in Beth’s ass, another in the girl’s pussy and Beth’s clit between her lips.

Beth came loudly, writhing beneath Emma. Emma was close to coming too, enjoying Beth’s mouth and fingers immensely. Emma slid her finger in and out of Beth’s ass, rubbed her g-spot hard and sucked her clit deeply into her mouth. Emma wasn’t gentle. She fucked Beth hard and fast and Beth could no longer keep her mouth on Emma’s pussy.

Beth moaned loudly and bucked her hips violently, but this time she was not attempting to get away. She was fucking back. That was enough for Emma. Beth’s fingers fucked Emma’s pussy furiously and she came hard. She worked her hips to get Beth’s fingers deeper as she continued to climax repeatedly. Both women moaned and attempted to muffle their screams of pleasure.

Beth managed to begin sucking Emma’s clit again and Emma came one last time, her deepest, most satisfying orgasm yet. Beth came hard at the same moment, her body going stiff and she sounded as if she were crying. As the women’s orgasms subsided, Emma got up and turned her body so she was face to face with Beth. She slipped her tongue into Beth’s mouth and kissed her passionately. Beth responded as if she could not get enough of Emma.

For several eternal moments, they shared something very special. A bond of some sort grew between Emma and this girl. Emma felt closer to Beth at that moment than she had ever felt to anyone before in her life. They continued to embrace even after they ceased kissing, neither wanting this to end. Neither did they want to ruin the moment with words.

An hour ago, Emma hadn’t even met Beth, but now she felt a deep connection to the woman. She could barely make out Beth’s delicate features. The details were hidden, but she could see enough. Beth was beautiful and she was smiling. That warmed Emma’s heart.

Emma shifted to her side and held Beth in her arms. She never wanted to let go. Beth snuggled closer pressing her bare back tightly against Emma’s torso, entangling her legs with Emma’s. This was as close to perfect as Emma could imagine. The sex was good...who was she kidding, the sex was mind-blowingly fantastic...but lying with Beth now topped even that.

Finally, Beth spoke, “Emma, I’ve been waiting for someone. I think that person is you. I feel free and alive again. Thank you.”

That’s all she said. Emma found it a little strange, but everything Beth said sounded a little off. She considered responding, but what could she say? Instead, she hugged Beth tighter and kissed her shoulder. Beth sighed and Emma smiled at that. She considered pulling the comforter onto the bed, but she wasn’t about to leave Beth’s side. Besides, despite the chill in the air, Emma still wasn’t cold. Emma was wondering how that could be when she fell asleep holding Beth tightly.

~~~

Emma opened her eyes but quickly clamped them shut again. Her room was bright and surprisingly warm. The heat must have begun working again. She turned to find Beth, but she was gone. Emma figured she had to get back to her husband so as not to arouse his suspicion. That was disappointing. Emma would have liked to have seen her in the morning light.

She was under the comforter and she reasoned Beth must have tucked her in as she left. Even though the room was warm, the comforter was still cozy and felt so good against Emma’s naked body. She didn’t want to leave the bed, but breakfast would be ready soon. She could smell it already. Emma reluctantly decided she had better get up.

Emma showered, dressed, and then went to breakfast. As she walked down the hall, it occurred to her that seeing Beth might be awkward. She thought about it and reasoned that there wasn’t much she could do to change that and continued downstairs. She was a few minutes late and Gladys and Oscar were already there along with a young couple.

Emma sat down and Gladys got up to pour her some coffee as she introduced the couple, “Emma, these are the elusive Finnegans, Ron and Mary. See, I told you they were real.”

Everyone laughed at that except Emma. “You’re the Finnegans?” she asked

“Yes, glad to meet you. Emma is it? We would have liked to spend more time around the inn, but there is so much to see up this way,” Ron said in a distinct New Jersey accent.

“Gladys tells us you’re a writer, Emma. How exciting,” Mary said in the same accent. Both of the Finnegans were rather portly and Mary had short blonde hair. Emma was clearly confused and it must have shown.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Gladys asked.

“Did another guest check in last night, Gladys?”

“No? Why?”

“You don’t have anyone else staying here? You’re sure?”

“No dear. What’s the matter?”

“Can I speak to you upstairs, please?” Emma asked as her mind reeled.

“Of course, of course.” Gladys said, clearly concerned. Oscar and the Finnegans also wore looks of concern on their faces. Gladys followed Emma to her room and Emma closed the door. She sat on the bed and Gladys sat next to her.

“What is it, dear?” Gladys asked in a worried tone.

“Gladys, a woman came to my room last night. I thought it was you at first, but then the woman undressed and got into bed with me. I made love to her. I assumed it was Mrs. Finnegan, but she called herself Beth. It wasn’t Mary. The woman I was with last night was thin and had long hair. You’re sure no one else was here?”

“No. Nobody. I locked the house up myself last night after Ron and Mary got back and it was still buttoned up this morning nice and tight. What did she look like?”

“It was dark, Gladys, I could barely see her. She was thin with long hair, brown I think. I could see enough of her face to tell you she was beautiful, but not much more.”

“Should I call the police, dear?”

“No...I enjoyed it. I’m just a little confused. I assumed it was Mrs. Finnegan. The woman told me to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake her husband. She said she was from upstairs.”

“I don’t know, dear. Could it have been a dream?” Gladys suggested.

“No, I don’t think so. Well, I guess it could have been considering this woman clearly doesn’t exist,” Emma said resigning herself to the fact she was either dreaming last night or had gone crazy.

“Emma, I’ve had dreams that seemed real like that. Don’t worry about it. It was probably the wine,” Gladys said trying to reassure Emma. That made sense. It had happened before. She felt embarrassed, suddenly. The sex with Beth was too good to have been real she thought in retrospect. It still felt so real though.

“You must think I’m crazy, Gladys. I feel so foolish.”

“Don’t worry, dear. You’re not crazy and there is no need to be embarrassed. Dreams are funny sometimes. Honestly, I’ve had vivid dreams like that from time to time. It’s either that or maybe you’re seeing ghosts,” Gladys teased.

Emma went white and her eyes widened. Suddenly, Emma stood and walked from the room with purpose.

“Where are you going, Emma? Emma?” Gladys called after her.

Emma went to the main room where she and Gladys had shared wine and dessert last night. Gladys found Emma staring at the painting of Rebecca they had discussed the previous evening.

“What is it dear?” Gladys asked, plainly worried.

“That’s her, Gladys. The woman I made love with last night. I’m sure of it.”

“Dear, she’s been dead for two hundred years. I’m sure you just dreamed of it. You were staring at her picture last night. You probably just got her stuck in your head and dreamed about her. Besides, as I said last night, her name is Rebecca, not Beth. I was only kidding about the ghost, dear?”

Emma shook her head. It hadn’t been a dream, she was sure now. It was real. She had been drawn to the picture last night. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she felt a chill. She didn’t know why but she took the picture off the wall and turned it over. In faded ink it read, “Rebecca Elizabeth Hill”.

“Gladys, come look,” Emma said. Gladys did and gasped as she saw the middle name.

“Dear, that’s just coincidence, isn’t it?” Gladys asked, obviously not sure anymore.

It all came back to Emma. The coldness of the room and the intense feelings after the dreams. The woman on the trail and the woman she saw in the hall that looked nothing like Mary Finnegan. That was Beth. So was the moaning she had heard. Beth’s skin was so cold, but still so warm to the touch. She understood why she couldn’t place Beth’s accent and why she spoke so strangely and the enigmatic last words she spoke to Emma before they fell asleep in each other’s arms. She also understood Beth, Rebecca, was gone. She was waiting for Emma and she was now free to move on.

“Gladys, it was Rebecca. I am sure of it,” Emma said.

“But, dear, how? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either, but I know she’s gone now. What happened last night released her from this world. She told me as much, but I didn’t understand until now. She was waiting for me, or someone like me, all these years. I didn’t see Mrs. Archer or Mary. It was Beth. My crazy dreams, that was Beth too. Oh God, Gladys. I made love to a ghost last night.”

Emma took a seat, and hugged the picture to her chest and began to cry. Gladys took her seat across the room and welled up. Emma suddenly felt a profound sense of loss. Beth was gone, but at least she was free. That made Emma smile through her tears. Her emotions were conflicted, but through it all, she felt the warmth and love that she had shared with Beth. Suddenly, she thought of her new novel. The flood of ideas, the plot that she couldn’t get out of her head. It was all so vivid and full of life and now she knew why.

That was Beth, too. It was her life, her memories. Emma knew what she had to do. She got up and hugged Gladys, “I need to write!”

“Um...OK, Dear. If you think that will help.”

“No, Gladys. The new novel, all the ideas, it was Beth. It’s her memories and her life. I need to write it all down.”

“Oh! Well then go. Get to it. I’ll bring you lunch later,” Gladys said and all but pushed Emma towards the stairs.

“I love you, Gladys!” Emma called as she ran upstairs.

“I know, dear. I love you too,” Gladys called back.

~~~

That summer a silver Lexus pulled into the lot at Gladys and Oscar’s bed and breakfast. Now they simply called the inn Beth’s House. Gladys came running out of the inn with Oscar close behind.

“Oh my, it’s beautiful, Emma.” Gladys exclaimed and gave the girl a great big hug. Emma was the same girl she had met last winter, but maybe a little better dressed. She was still in black, but now it was all tights, skirts, blouses and heels. Rachael, Emma’s partner, gave Oscar a big hug as she emerged from the new car and then the girls traded and Emma hugged Oscar while Rachael hugged Gladys.

“She sure is a beauty, Emma!” Oscar added.

“Did you notice the license plate?” Emma asked.

Oscar and Gladys looked. It read “BETH”. Gladys teared up, “It’s beautiful, Emma!”

They all walked inside and sat in the main room. The spot on the wall where Beth’s picture had hung was still bare. Gladys happily let Emma take it home when she left last winter. They all sat, Emma with her arm around Rachael on the divan.

“I’ve got good news, you guys,” Emma said to Gladys and Oscar.

Gladys couldn’t wait, “The house closed, didn’t it?”

“Yes!” Emma said barely able to contain her excitement.

“Oh that’s wonderful!”

“I couldn’t imagine a better couple of neighbors, or prettier ones,” Oscar added and winked.

Emma had written all day after she discovered the truth about Beth and didn’t stop once she got back to the city. In less than a month, she presented the manuscript to Haya for editing and by the end of spring, it had been accepted by a large publishing house. Even though she was a new author in the genre of historical romance, the advance was substantial based on the quality of the work.

By midsummer, sales were through the roof and Emma was an up and coming new author. Her new agent, Rachael, negotiated a six-book deal with the publisher and got Emma the big advance. That wasn’t a problem for Emma. She had discovered she had far too much of Beth’s life in her head to put into one book. She was already working on the sequel.

Emma and Rachael found they had more in common than the publishing business and began dating. Emma introduced Rachael to Gladys and Oscar when she visited earlier in the year to give Gladys an advanced copy of her book. She introduced them as mom and dad.

~~~

That night while Emma slept in Rachael’s arms in the same room she had occupied the previous winter, she dreamed of Beth. It wasn’t sexual like before, however. Both women we’re nude and Beth simply held Emma and stroked her hair. All the world was white and they lay on a bed of mist. Emma felt nothing except for Beth’s touch. They lay together for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Beth’s hand touched Emma’s face and turned it towards her own. She kissed Emma deeply and passionately and then looked into her eyes.

“You will not come to me for a long time, but know that I await your arrival. I must go soon. I cannot linger here for long. You must live your life as I have lived mine. Know that I love you and someday we will be together again. Farewell, my sweet Emma”

Suddenly, Emma was adrift. She was not afraid, but she felt that profound sense of loss again, but she also felt a sense of hope. She already missed Beth.

~~~

Emma awoke up in Rachael’s arms. She felt safe and loved. She was already forgetting the journey she had taken during the night. She felt Rachael stir and then kiss her neck.

“Morning, sunshine.” Rachael said.

“Morning.”, Emma replied.

“Sleep well?”

“Actually I did, very well. I feel great this morning,” Emma answered honestly and then looked at her girlfriend and said, “I love you, Rach.”

“I love you too, Emma.

~~~

About the Author:

Marlene Sexton is just a regular girl with a wildly sexual imagination. She has been writing erotica for her own enjoyment. Now she wants to share her naughty stories with others. She enjoys writing about hot and steamy sex between characters that her readers can connect with in realistic, but exciting, situations. Marlene loves writing about married couples, lesbians, transsexuals and all manner of dominant woman fantasies. Of course, all of Marlene’s characters are consenting adults.

If you liked this book, check out Marlene’s other books on Smashwords. If you loved this book, please give it a positive review to help other readers find and enjoy Marlene’s books.

Connect with Marlene online:

Marlene’s Blog: http://marlenesexton.blogspot.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Marlene_Sexton

Thanks for reading!