Describing what was going on was difficult. Conscious thought receded as Tiler landed kiss after kiss on skin that tingled soon after contact, stoking lust that radiated outward in waves of heat, as Jia felt her breath hitch and catch on her throat. I need words to remember this. Words I should try to gather, soon, to write all of this down, so that when I’m old and grey and nodding by the fire, as Yeats wrote once, I’ll take down that book, and slowly read, and dream of the soft look her eyes hold now, and of (sorry Mr. Yeats) her passion deep. Will you still be around, then, to read that book with me Tiler? I hope so. Please. Please. Please, Tiler, be there and never leave.

Nearly two hours ago, they’d crashed through the door of the first bedroom they’d found after using the keys Aerin had tossed at Tiler so that they could unlock the sliding doors to the second floor. They’d haphazardly grabbed at each other’s clothing, but Tiler had been barely able to stand. She’d mumbled about feeling sleepy, overcome by exhaustion. Sounds from the party still going strong downstairs were muffled and then completely shut out as Jia closed the door. A confused series of actions followed: Tiler pointing at the bed, and Jia being nudged in that direction, then falling on the bed first, followed by Tiler, who’d collapsed on top of her. Amidst the still and darkness of the room, Tiler drifted off to sleep enveloped in a warm, welcome body-embrace from Jia. Stars in the night sky visible through the bedroom windows flickered on and off lazily, adding to a timeless hush and quiet in the room.

Jia had slipped out from under a lightly snoring Tiler, to use the bathroom, confused by what had happened. She’d washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face, reconciled to the reality that Tiler was not waking. She’d crept back to bed, unbuckled her “blade” and then had laid next to the sleeping stud. Confused about how quickly things had changed, she looked long and hard at the sleeping figure faced-down and spread-eagled on the bed. At length, she’d reached out automatically to caress the broad, muscular flanks of her back. Never did sleep wrapped in a sexy human look so good.  As she brushed Tiler’s bangs off of her face, tucking the longest strands over a well-shaped ear, she sighed again. Without the magnetism of those deep blue eyes holding her captive, the rest of Tiler’s features in repose had rearranged themselves into a sweetness and unguarded innocence, akin to a baby’s, not at all the veneer of a swaggering stud. Surely, at long last, this is a lover who wouldn’t hurt me, Jia had thought to herself, leaning forward to tenderly kiss Tiler’s forehead. Shortly thereafter she’d fallen asleep, too.

She wandered quietly to one corner of Aerin’s cavernous living room, converted tonight to a dance hall, unaware of being observed by more than one set of eyes, as she floated past noisy groups that had haphazardly formed and scattered around the floor. She paused beside a tall squarish side table, groaning with half-empty whisky and champagne bottles, not far from the path that led to the main kitchen of this vast penthouse that overlooked Central Park. She poured herself another glass of the Dom Perignon Rose’ that Aerin had popped open earlier.

What the fuck am I getting into? Do I seriously think this will work with Tiler?   I mean, really, what can she get from me that she can’t from all the other chicks she’s dated, or from the vast pool of blonde hotties out there who she’s yet to meet, or date, if that’s what she’s into? 99.99% of whom are likely to have both legs intact? Then she wouldn’t have to adjust all the time, and try to hide that she’s trying to adjust when she does.

Do I try to get out of this now before we both make a huge mistake? She’s admitted she has the worst track record with relationships, so yeah, fair warning, Jia. Plus there’s my shit: I KNOW that my sustaining a relationship with someone new, given my realities, has about the same chances as Angie and TJ would have building a pile of snowballs in the middle of Central Park on any given March weekend. That is, for the kids to do that, it would take a near-miraculous late spring snowstorm blasting out of nowhere. And for me? Well, it would take a miracle of greater magnitude than that in order for this thing with Tiler to work, too.

So, yeah, that is not a good combination of odds, on her side and mine – and if I count on a miracle happening, and plunge into this anyway, if this doesn’t work, this is going to hurt like … I can’t even describe it. It’s going to hurt. And I will be so fucked.

“So, Jia, are you hogging that bottle or are you sharing?” Rian asked, as she eyed their new friend, who was caressing the neck of the Dom Perignon Rose absentmindedly, while staring into space, looking miserable for some reason. The night had been a happy one for everybody else, as far as she could tell. People had been dancing, laughing, and singing their lungs out. Earlier, Jia had been cheering Tiler along together with Rachel and Rian, even.

Lying on the wooden floor, exhausted from the encounter, Bette reached for Tina’s hand but found, to her delight, that her hand had slipped between the blonde’s slick wide-spread legs instead.   Slowly, she stroked the warm, wet inner thigh, nudging upward with each stroke, running a fingernail around the hard nub when she got to it. A quick suck of air followed then she felt her still-panting wife tremble slightly at the contact.

“Bette! Tina!” the voices outside coincided with a low moan inside.

“Not a second too soon,” Tina croaked.

“Where’d they get to, do you know?” Alice’s loud voice floated past the thick wooden door into the darkened room that Bette and Tina had backed into, while kissing desperately, soon after Bette had arrived fifteen minutes earlier. They were somewhere in the first floor of Aerin’s penthouse, well-hidden from the motley crew that had gathered to listen to the mixes Tiler’s DJ friend had put together for Tiler’s parent’s upcoming silver wedding anniversary party.

Dana’s response was non-descript as she and Alice shuffled past the door.

“What the hell’s come over you?!” Tina whispered hoarsely after things grew silent in the hallway outside again, as she fended off repeat attempts by her wife to get round two of their impromptu “sexy time” going. Bette easily overcame those somewhat half-hearted attempts to keep her at bay, grinning as she resumed rubbing the hard nub. “So wet,” she murmured, delighted again, as she slipped two fingers deep into Tina’s gushing snatch.

“Somebody could fmhmmfp….” Tina tried again but her words were smothered by a wet, all-consuming kiss. Discernible whimpering joined low-pitched groans shortly after.

Just as Tina felt another orgasm gather speed, the familiar tingling sensation in her nether sensation giving way to … pounding feet rumbled in the hall past the door, accompanied by Shane’s voice, interrupted them again. G&*^%$mn it! “Lara, I swear, I had no idea that Alice was going to make that big a deal of it!”

“Yeah? No idea? None at all?” Lara’s sarcastic come-back was muffled but unmistakeable. Bette and Tina heard the doorknob turn a little and the door begin to open. But Shane shouted something back at Lara, in a distinctly teasing tone. The doorknob snapped back around and the door remained just slightly ajar.

Dressed in a slinky black close-fitting Armani dress and 6 foot 2 inches in her 4 inch Loubotins, Cindy Browne was indeed standing in the middle of the living room of Tiler’s Brooklyn townhouse, surrounded by Tiler’s friends, in the middle of a story that everyone was laughing about. Just as she started to lightly hold up the chin of a clearly nervous Jia, “…and, my dear, Tiler neglected to tell me just how beautiful you are. Which is a shame because I think you and this outfit would be the perfect vessel for a pair of vintage diamond earrings that my grandmother passed on to me. Made in London, handcrafted, absolutely flawless in the four Cs …” Tiler exclaimed again, “Mom!!! What are you doing here?”

Please, please. Let this not be true. Please!

Cindy let go of the beautiful blonde’s dimpled chin, whirled gracefully to her left and waved at her dumbfounded daughter, who’d paused at mid-step. “Honey, your friends kindly let me in!”

No visible reaction from Tiler, who looked to be so surprised she was only now setting her foot down on the step, eyes bugged out, continuing to stare at her mother.

All the eyeballs in the living room turned to look at a clearly confused Tiler, frozen like a marble statue halfway down the staircase.   A flutter of nervous coughs spread, and some half-feared the young stud, although looking absolutely hot tonight, had permanently lost her cool, along with her wits, even as Cindy continued talking, “ Yes, c’est moi, I’m really here and your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. I know that look, honey. You’re not imagining things.”

Pause. “Speaking of looks, my goodness, Tiler, you look absolutely smashing tonight! And have you actually grown since I last saw you?”

“Mom!!! You’re here!” Tiler repeated, unnecessarily.

With a shake of her head, Cindy approached the staircase, arms open. “Yes, I am! What’s the matter? Even if you close your eyes and shake your head three times, I’ll still be standing here! Listen, I know what you’re thinking ….”

Why do the women in my life always say they know what I’m thinking?

“… We’re supposed to see each other tomorrow still, when you come over to visit. So the last thing you expected was to see me here tonight. That’s what you were thinking, right? I know, I know — but your dad and I are having dinner tonight at a friend’s place five minutes from here, and I thought that I’d drop by to see you, first … why are you just standing there, honey? C’mon give your mom a hug and a kiss, darling!”

“You’re beautiful, attractive, sexy – you could have anyone you wanted.   Why not Tiler?”

Tina drew an arm around Jia’s shoulders and squeezed her in a friendly manner. She smirked at her fellow blonde, who’d raised her eyebrows in response, lost for words. Finally, Jia unlocked her tongue, sputtering at first. “This, this from the girls who’d casually dropped devastating inside dope about her, such as how un-gettable Tiler has been for as long as you’ve all known her? Yet you’re asking why I wasn’t confident about being able to…”

“As Tina just said, you’re beautiful, attractive, sexy, and may I add, smart. Plus, we finally know Tiler’s type – you! Tiler hasn’t been able to look away from you no matter what’s going on or who else is around, hot stuff.”

Unable to ignore the conversation going on in the living room that she could overhear from her en-suite bathroom in the second floor, Tiler purposely dropped her body-spray canister and elbowed the wooden box that housed cotton buds and other knick –knacks from the granite counter-top, hoping the noise they would make would be a big enough distraction to the women lightly grilling her angel.  That last remark sounded like it came from Rachel. My bosses are double-teaming my angel! The ensuing racket created by the loud, clattering sounds of hard objects dropping to the ceramic floor had the intended effect of quieting the teasing and chatter going on amongst the women waiting for Tiler in the living room of her Brooklyn townhouse.

All the women simultaneously looked up in the direction of the upstairs bathroom that they knew Tiler was in. They suppressed some giggles,, and then exchanged looks and smiles with one another. They didn’t stay quiet for long.

“Anyway, what matters is that she’s clearly into you. We can pump up your confidence later (cute giggles from Jia), because, girl, what we really want to know before Tiler joins us is how are you able to keep your panties on when you’re with her?   This beggars our collective imagination because we just can’t believe how you stay this chaste when you have our single, available, and gorgeous stud wrapped around your finger …” Diane.

“Ladies, maybe that’s asking for a bit much?” That was Aerin.