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From: themrlee@hotmail.com (The Mr. Lee)
Subject: {ASSM} [*]The Uncertainty of the Meek 1/4 FF, FM (The Mr. Lee)
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There are people who have read this story--originally posted in part here,
latter in full at our Website <http://pages.ripco.net/~metrdesn>--and
liked it quite a bit. We have wagered amongst ourselves about the extent
that the previous statement will impress you. This particular Mr. Lee
believes you will be mightily impressed, and thus the need for the
following disclaimer:
The following story contain descriptions of sex between people. No
animals were harmed
in the production of this story, as it was written by vegans. If the
depiction of sexual situations
between two women, or a woman and a man offends you, you should get a
life, and you
should not read this story until you do. If you have a harsh phobic
reaction to ancient
Greek and Roman philosophers and historians, you may also want to
avoid this story and
bone up on your Tom Clancy, who is devoid of historical or
philosophical intent. He is also
an American. This story contains graphic descriptions of digits. You
have been warned.
Another Mr. Lee has suggested such precautions are unnecessary, and
furthermore, waste precious bandwidth, as the likelihood of anyone
actually being impressed by the opening sentence enough that they would
continue to read is minimal, at best. Well, you can decide.
We love feedback, so if our harsh warning has not scared you away, please
let us know you read the story. You may also feel inclined to tell us if
you liked it, and anything that caught your eye. We might post additional
stories if sufficient attention, positive or negative, is paid. We can be
e-mailed at <TheMrLee@hotmail.com>. While your at it, we encourage you to
visit our Website at read even more of our writings. We care about you,
really.
The Uncertainty of the Meek
by the The Mysterious Mr. Lee Organization
Part One: A Tulip Breaks the Snow
My mom always told me, ³Michi, youıll inherit the world someday.²
Sometimes it was with consternation, sometimes it was with concern, but
most of the time it was with love and pride. Once I became a woman, I
often thought she was right. Despite the trend for self-help ³experts² and
counselors to tell women that they needed to speak-up about what they want
and be assertive, I found my timidity was a silent blessing. Timidity
hasnıt been an acquiescence to otherıs demands, but a quiet way of keeping
myself in the world. I suppose, my meekness has always worked because Iıve
been lucky enough to be surrounded by people who truly love me, and that
even when I had no idea that I knew, Iıve always known what Iıve wanted.
I am, and always have been, a lesbian. I donıt think of my self as being
³in the closet,² but Iım not particularly inclined to speak about my
personal life, so most of my neighbors and coworkers donıt know. Despite
my reluctance to enter into a potentially embarrassing conversation about
whom Iım sleeping with, Iım not ashamed of my sexual life. I occasionally
think that straight people, whose sexuality is so often displayed to the
world from billboards and supermarket tabloids, are the ones who need a
good cringe of self-consciousness at their obvious sexual behavior. But
I feel little liberty to condemn, as I never thought about my sexuality at
all until I was sixteen, and then may have just lucked into one that suits
me so well.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah slid her arm around my waist and snuggled against my backside. Weıd
been having sleep-overs as long as we knew each other, so I didnıt think
much about it. She ran her fingers through my hair as she told me she
wanted to play in the ABA after college, and be the next Dr. J. I was
always tired before she was, so just listened to her talk.
³Michi, I know there arenıt any girls in the pros, but Iım tall enough to
be a small guard, and nobody can shoot better than me.² I nodded sleepily,
contented with her body heat and her gentle strokes. Soon, I lost track of
her words. It was the rhythm of her voice that I loved, the edge of
excitement that was in every sentence. Her soothing fingers in my hair and
the sound of her voice was guiding me into a wonderful sleep.
She moved her face closer to my ear. I felt the warmth and dampness of her
breath. Her other hand caressed my hip, slowly, tentatively. The sound and
feel of her voice was like a sensual caress of trust. Even more than my
very loving parents, Sarah was the rock I built my secure world on.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah was my best friend since we met in fourth grade. Sarah is my
opposite. She is assertive, even aggressive, charismatic, always knows
what she wants, and is absolutely loyal.
When she played playground sports, she was always a captain, even if she
was the only girl. She bloomed early into an rock-hard amazon, and could
take any boy in school in anything she wanted to. I suspect she could pee
her name into the snow better if she wanted to. I was neither good nor bad
at sports, but my lack of apparent enthusiasm usually got me picked only
before the deeply incompetent athletes in playlot divying. But Sarah
always picked me first, even if she thought sheıd have to play twice as
hard to make up for my less than Jordanesque efforts.
Once I said she should pick me last, since nobody would take me before
then and she could get Tim Johnson or Noah Finkle, excellent athletes who
always ended up together since Sarah would not be separated from me.
She paused, her pretty green eyes scrunched up in concentration, before
saying, ³Michi, if you ended up on the other team, I couldnıt win. Iıd
never want you to lose.²
~~~~~~~~~~
It was the summer before our junior years, and either I was spending the
night with her, or she was with me. Our parents became good friends,
despite having little in common, solely due to our unshakable bond.
³Michi, what do you want to do when you grow up?² Her finger traced lines
on my upper arm, lazy and directionless. Her words were hot on my neck,
and felt better than ice cream on an August afternoon.
³I donıt know. Iıll find out when I get there.²
³You donıt have a plan?² She sounded almost indignant. Her words came out
as staccato stabs, each word enunciated with a perfect beat between. Her
finger stopped its lazy path as she flattened her palm on my shoulder.
³No, you know I donıt, Sarah. I guess Iıll get married and live next to
you and your husband.² It never occurred to me that I wouldnıt get
married, but I always imagined my adult life as living next to Sarah. The
men in our future lives were invisible and irrelevant.
Her hand slipped away from my shoulder as she rolled away. Our hips lost
contact. I felt my own breath speed up. My safety blanket had fallen off
in the night.
She rolled back, pressing herself against me so that every cell of my back
contacted her chest and stomach, like we shared oxygen through our pores.
One hand held my hips to hers, pressing on my inner thigh. Her other hand
wrapped around my shoulders pulling me firmly into her urgent embrace. Her
lips danced on my neck as she spoke.
³What if we never get married? Will you be my roommate?²
³Of course! But wonıt we get married?² I simply had never thought it could
be otherwise. I didnıt mean to sound panicked.
³Oh, Michi, Michi, of course you will if you want.² Her lips were pressed
against my ear, and I felt shivers race through my body. There was an
energy, a presence in my body I wasnıt used to and I began to shake
slightly. I think I felt a tear drop from her eye.
Her hand tip-toed from my thigh past my ribcage, brushing the outside of
my breast, to stoke my cheek.
³Have you thought about who youıll marry?²
³No!² It wasnıt a denial, as much as an almost incoherent expression of
surprise. I had been asked out a couple of times--always by awkward,
clueless boys who perhaps thought I was awaiting their rescue--but I never
thought about dating, let alone marrying. It was all an abstraction.
³Lisa Brown went down on Noah last week.²
I felt her tongue flick my earlobe as her lips traced the words on my
flesh. I felt very strange, like I was going to cry. I didnıt know why,
either. I kept shaking. Sarah stroked my cheek again.
³Do you think youıll go down on your husband when your married?² It was
one of the cruelest things Sarah had ever said to me. There was a hint of
mockery in her voice, not that silken caress that met my ear so often.
³Oh, shut up, Sarah, I wouldnıt even know. . .² I broke into quiet sobs. I
didnıt know why I was crying, but I couldnıt stop. Sarahıs arms moved
around my shoulders, and she began rocking me gently.
³Iım sorry, Michi, Iım sorry.² She turned my face towards hers and kissed
my cheeks and eyes over and over again. I turned towards her and buried my
face into her shoulder and cried until I fell asleep.
When I awoke, she was sprawled, my best friend, all over the bed, in her
usual way. Her mouth hung open, a line of drool hung like a spiderıs web
from the corner of her mouth to a wet spot on the pillow. One of her arms,
surely painfully asleep, was still under my shoulder. I sat up, propping
my pillow against the wall and took one of her hands into mine as I
thought about the night before. I still didnıt know why I had cried, or
what I had felt.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldnıt figure out what had happened. All I
knew was that I had the best friend in the world. I took her hand and
pressed it against my cheek, glowing.
~~~~~~~~~~
The start of school signaled a temporary end to our summer-long slumber
party, and Sarahıs arrival as the class beauty queen. By sixteen, I had
most of the curves I have now, albeit they were toner and probably more
attractive then. I was reasonably attractive and moderately fashionable,
but I didnıt draw attention to myself, so drew little notice from my
classmates. Sarah, always my opposite, was one of the people that everyone
in school knew of. If you started a sentence ³Sarah Fielding. . .,²
everyone would be guaranteed to know who you were talking about.
She broke her leg rock climbing in September, and the forced time-out from
athletics allowed her to develop breasts that must have been waiting for
her to slow down a second. Sarah will never be voluptuous, but by the time
her cast came off, she went from being the nearly breastless amazon queen
to a true beauty whose slight cleavage would draw stares when anyone could
get a look (not frequently, as Sarah rarely wore anything other than
t-shirts).
The small cadre of boy followers she always had grew into an army of
suitors. Most were too intimidated by her to actually go as far as asking
her out, or even for a dance, but a growing number started to send clues
her way that they were ripe for the picking.
Our Friday and Saturday night sleep-overs often turned to gossip about the
merits of this boy or that. While I couldnıt imagine dating anyone myself,
I assumed that Sarah--always unwilling to settle for anything less than
exactly what she wanted--was sizing up these boys in earnest.
~~~~~~~~~~
³Michi,² she said, her hand brushing across the front of my leg, ³Steve
asked me out today.²
Like usual, I was saving up my words for when they were truly needed, so I
let her go on without interruption.
³He came up to me after trig. He wants me to go to a movie with him next
weekend.² She pressed her lips into my ear and gave me a little tickle
over my sensitive ribs. I drew in my breath and felt a shiver move down my
side.
She continued to caress me, running her fingers through my hair, or stoke
my cheek as she went through the ritual of questions about the current
suitor. ³Is he cute, Michi, do you think so?² ³Michi, do you think heıd
try something?² ³Do you think heıd be nice to me, Michi?² ³Does he really
want to go out with me, or does he want to go out with Sarah Fielding?²
The last question always bought a slight giggle from me, which she paid
for with a kiss on my neck.
~~~~~~~~~~
Occasionally, our weekend nights were interrupted by a date. I would stay
home and read a book, while Sarah would come up with a list of everything
the poor boy had done wrong. It didnıt occur to me until much later that I
had gone farther with Sarah than any boy she had every dated, even though
I was neither trying, nor even realized that we were making out.
Once, after I had done something extremely unusual--perhaps stay out too
late--because a friend had egged me on, my mother asked the usual parent
question, ³If she asked you to jump off a cliff, would you?² With Sarah, I
would have, not because I had felt I had to do anything she said, but
because I trusted her so completely that I could not conceive that she
would ever do anything, or ask me to do something, which would hurt me.
So, when Sarahıs caresses became more bold, it didnıt occur to me that
there was anything either unusual or threatening about it.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah had finished her Saturday night summary of Friday nightıs poor date
and was chatting on about the movie she had seen. It was apparently much
more interesting than poor Rob, a boy who occasionally talked to me, and,
as a result, who I was fond of. By now, she was routinely kissing my neck
and caressing the sides of my breasts, with occasional brushes over the
top. I was usually aroused, although I didnıt quite think of it that
way--somehow, I just thought about it as being flushed or excited, or even
simply very friendly-happy. I was the most timid with myself.
I have never been verbose, so our evenings typically consisted of her
feeling me up while chatting away about whatever the topic of the day was.
But that night, she sucked my earlobe into her mouth and stroked it with
her tongue while her hands went under my t-shirt and slowly moved up to
the undersides of my breasts. Her words did not resume as her mouth moved
across my neck and her fingers began tracing circles around my nipples.
She pulled my shoulder down towards the bed and kissed her way across my
neck, her hand now vigorously caressing my breasts. I must have known what
was about to happen, but my mind was almost blank. In the darkness of the
room, all I could see was Sarahıs silhouette, her beautiful green eyes
sparkling, and her halo of golden hair. She sat up and my breathing almost
stopped. She pulled her t-shirt off, slowly, and tossed it aside.
She took each of my hands and kissed their palms in turn, pressing them to
her cheeks, and then breathed in from them deeply. I could see her breasts
rise. The only sound I heard was my heart beating.
She kept my hands in hers and lowered her lips to my ears. More breathily
than any words I had ever heard before, she said, ³Michi, take off your
shirt for me.²
The jolt of her words breaking the long silence almost took me out of my
growing trance. I responded too slowly, and she took my hands and guided
them to the bottom of my shirt and helped me take it off.
She laid me back down and kissed down from my neck to my right nipple. I
threw my head back, biting my lip. The pleasure was almost too intense.
Her tongue circled my nipple before she pulled her mouth away.
Climbing on top of me, she took my head into her hands and kissed my lips.
My lips parted for her tongue and we kissed, our breath coming in and out
of crushed nostrils in weak gasps, until we could no longer hold out. She
pulled her mouth away from mine and we sucked in the air, now full of the
scent of our arousal.
She kissed my face a hundred times, rapidly placing her moist lips on my
wet skin. She sat up next to me, her skin glowed red, visible even in the
dim lighting of my room. I could see every one of her teeth as she smiled.
³Michi, please, I need you to undress all the way. Please, Michi, please.²
It wasnıt the assertive voice Sarah normally used, but a desperate plea.
I lifted my bottom from the bed and pulled my panties off. They were
soaked. She took them from my fingers, brought them to her face, and
smelled them. When she took them away, I could see she was crying.
³Michi, Michi, I love you.² She bit her lip, her face an odd combination
of desperation, fear, and joy.
³I know,² I said, not knowing that I knew until that moment.
³No, Michi, I mean I am in love with you. I need you desperately.² Her
eyes, always on my own, turned away from me. She was shaking. Why she
should be afraid, my fearless Sarah, at this moment, I couldnıt fathom. Of
course she loved me, I loved her more than anything, literally anything, I
could dream of. Sarah, my world, my universe. I laughed almost silently.
³Sarah, I think Iıve always been in love with you,² once again, revealing
the truth to myself as well as Sarah.
She turned back to me, still looking apprehensive. ³I need you to make
love to me, Michi. Own me, Michi. Own me.²
I kissed her deeply, again until our breaths gave out. ³Iım not sure I
know how.²
She smiled and laid beside me. Her hand crept between my legs and began
stroking me while she kissed my breasts and neck. First her fingers stayed
away from my blossoming petals, just missing them as she caressed my inner
thigh. I clutched myself to her, and her caresses began to pluck at my
nectar. Her hand, if not experienced, was nuanced and subtle, and she
didnıt touch my clit or penetrate my tunnel until my eyes had lost focus,
and my back arched high. Then her fingers drove into me, slowly at first,
but rapidly increasing in pace. She let her thumb stroke my clit when she
pulled her fingers out on each stroke, and then dove back in.
She was crying my name over and over again, softly, desperately, as she
humped against my thigh. I began orgasming, my fingers digging into her
forearm and side, where they were when she brought me over the edge. It
was a delicious torment, pleasure so great it was almost unbearable. I
think if I could have spoken, I would have said it lasted for days,
although surely it was only a few minutes.
Once I returned to the world, I could not move. I just lay there, mouthing
³Sarah, my love, Sarah, Sarah,² and gibberish, over and over again. Sarah
still lay beside me, softly caressing me, rubbing against my thigh while I
recovered.
Then I dove into her. I kept asking, ³is this good?² as my mouth and
fingers explored every part of her body. My kisses became soft bites and
then kisses again, as I tasted her breasts, her neck, her wonderful,
perfect lips, her iron belly, her steel thighs. ³Yes, yes, yes,² was all
my verbose Sarah could reply.
Everything was kissed, caressed, touched, loved, except for there. ³Kiss
me there, Michi, please. Own me. Iım yours.²
I plunged between her thighs, putting her legs over my shoulder, and began
devouring her. I was determined to make her come until she broke my back
with her legs. She finally pushed my head away, ³No more. I canıt take any
more.²
The next morning, we didnıt know how to behave. Somehow, it had all
changed. We were in love, and had admitted it to each other, but how to
behave in from of our parents, at school? We didnıt know. We managed to
make it through Sunday brunch with my parents without acting too
strangely, and then went for a drive out to the countryside where we just
held hands and looked at the creek run.
--
This story is copyright 1999 the The Mysterious Mr. Lee Organization. Reposting is expressly forbidden, except with permission.
We at the The Mysterious Mr. Lee Organization adore feedback. Tell us what you liked, tell us what you hated, or just tell us you read the story. e-mail us at: TheMrLee@hotmail.com
Visit our wonderful Website at <http://pages.ripco.net/~metrdesn>
--
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments
are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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