("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text ----------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2014. Please do not remove the author information nor make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. ----------------------------------------------------- The Longest Two Weeks by Red Redman (redman@seductive.com) *** A rich woman and a poor woman get together. The money matters at first, but love soon takes over and they live happily ever after. (FF, rom) *** I walked into the house and knew immediately that something was wrong. Everything was too quiet. It's funny. Lani had only been living with me for six months now and already it seemed as much her home as mine. It seemed like ours. I've had other live-in lovers. Some of them lasted much longer than this. But this was the first time I had every thought of my home as "ours." Her car was in the driveway, the little red Beamer I had bought her. She had to be here. But everything was deathly quiet. Lani always had the music going. There was always life with her around. Something was wrong. Maybe not. Don't be melodramatic, Margaret, I told myself. It's a big house. Maybe she's outside. Still, it didn't feel right. An indistinguishable noise drew my attention to the front sitting room. That was odd. Lani never goes in that room unless we're entertaining guests. She says it's too stiff. Too formal. There's a part of Lani that will always be a country girl. She doesn't care for formalities, certainly not the formalities of the rich. It's one of her most endearing qualities to me. The moment I entered the room, my stomach dropped. Lani sat across the room in one of the large, overstuffed chairs that had come down from my parents and their parents before them. She was wearing her old clothes. Blue jeans. A knit shirt. Around her on the floor were her suitcases. On the table in front of her were keys, a stack of papers and a few of the many personal gifts that I had given her over the months. It looked as though she was packed to leave. "Hello, Margaret," she said. Her voice was high and sweet. She had a beautiful, if untrained, soprano. Just the sound of it made me remember one of our first evenings. Too much wine. Too much good food. Lani's sweet, clear voice singing with the songs on the radio. It was one of the first nights she had touched my heart. The first of many. "Hello, Lani," I responded. "What's this?" "This?" she said. A simple word. A simple word filled with meaning. She was trying to sound determined ...mature... decisive. She would have, too, except that her voice cracked in the middle of so short a word, betraying deep emotion. Her eyes fought back tears for a moment. Then she tossed her head, sending a cascade of auburn curls flying over her shoulder. She held her head up determined; her neck as thin and regal as any patrician blue blood I had ever been to school with. "It's time for me to be leaving." Just like that? No other explanation? I waited, expectantly. Lani waited me out. "This is sudden. Is there a reason?" I asked finally. "I thought we didn't owe each other explanations," she replied sharply. "Isn't that what we decided? No commitments. No explanations." "Yes. That's what we had said. Then." Then was when we had first met. Lani was new in town, waitressing at a coffee bar. Some of the girls and I had stopped by late at night. I had been taken with her. So taken that I had stayed behind, much to the delight of my running-mates. They had left me there after several pointed jabs at my expense over my reputation for "slumming." To my friends, this meant my taste for young, naive girls who were a bit on the unrefined side. And perhaps I have been guilty of that in the past. My sophisticated friends bore me. I grow weary of hearing who is sleeping with whom, what vacation spots are just fabulous and who got so drunk at the last party that they trashed themselves. Money and sophistication do not necessarily make people more interesting. After a while, it simply makes them more predictable. But Lani was different. Certainly different from my friends. Different even from the other unsophisticated girls that I had turned to on occasion. Oh, she still had some things in common with them. She still believed that money would solve her problems. That's typical of someone who's never lived with wealth. But she also combined naivete with common sense in a very endearing fashion. She had left Texas because her small town didn't accept a pretty young girl with no interest in boys, but she didn't feel pressured to don any of the urban lesbian roles either. She was unique to my experience. A girl comfortable in her skin, but looking for something better than what she had, too. "Is there anything about our arrangement that has displeased you?" I asked her. Arrangement. I hate that word, but I couldn't think of anything better to describe what we had. Lani lived with me. We shared a house and we shared a bed. Neither one of us had wanted the back and forth of dating. We had instantly connected with one another. We had found each other intriguing, exciting. But it wasn't just passion. There was passion, to be sure. But there was also more. Even so, we had both wanted to keep our options open. Well, that's not entirely honest on my part. Growing up in the circles that I did has made me very protective of status and lifestyle. I may get turned on by poor, unsophisticated girls, but I wouldn't necessarily want to make one my life partner. In the end, I was as protective of class as any other of my circle. But it wasn't entirely one sided. Lani had just moved to the city. She wasn't certain where she wanted to end up, either. She was intrigued and attracted to my lifestyle and friends, but she was hardly in love. She wanted to see how the other half lived, but she didn't rush into my arms with her eyes closed. And she had certainly enjoyed herself. My friends, for all their ribbing of me, had been eager to experience Lani's charms. Our arrangement was not exclusive. Having been installed in my home, Lani had the pick of my friends. At least the female friends who appreciated the company of other females. And she had taken advantage of that aspect of our relationship. We entertained frequently, especially at first. Lani as often ended in the guest bedroom as in mine. Neither of us lacked for companionship on such nights. But lately things had changed. We had been staying in more, enjoying one another's company. We had spent evenings reading together, of all things! Lani had even convinced me to listen to the Dixie Chicks. Worse yet, I had enjoyed them. I had enjoyed it all. I had enjoyed her. Until two nights ago. We had thrown a little intimate party. Just a few friends to share our meal and company. I had drunk too much wine. Fallen back on bad habits. Invited another girl to my bed. Spent the rest of the evening regretting it. She had been beautiful. She had been a delightful, intelligent woman. But she hadn't been Lani. I found myself missing her smile, her tenderness, and her lips. Lani's lips are hypnotizing. They call to me. They speak to me. "It just isn't the same now, Margaret. I thought I could keep my distance. I know you don't want to make a commitment and I thought I didn't want one either. I love the new clothes and the new cars. But two nights ago, when you left the room with Alexis, I found out that I loved something else even more." I paused, letting her words sink in. Perhaps if I could just tell her how I feel... "Does it make any difference if I told you that the whole time I couldn't stop thinking of you?" "It helps. It doesn't change my mind," Lani said wistfully. "Does it make any difference that I've regretted it every moment since?" "Not really. I don't wish you any regrets." "Does it make any difference that I've fallen in love with you?" She sat immobile. Tears began to stream down her face. I wanted to run to her, to kiss those tears, to hold her so close to me that she could never think to leave. "It might. If it's true," she finally choked out. "It is true! What can I do to prove to you that it's true?" I begged her. Wouldn't my friends be delighted at that! Me begging her! "You could come visit me," she whispered softly. My heart sank again. "I have a place on the Northside already. It's small. Nothing like this. I'm going to get a job. I have three month's rent saved up. A little money for groceries. I better find a job pretty quick, eh?" She chuckled. A lonely, sad chuckle. I nodded to her. I tried not to lose it. I was close. "I still have my old stuff in storage," she continued. "I have a twin bed. I'll save the other side for you. If you really mean it." I smiled and began to wipe back the tears I didn't even realize had fallen. There was still hope. "But not too soon," she whispered. "Give me two weeks to get on my feet." I went to her, gathering her in my arms. "I'll let you pay half the rent," she laughed a little sadly. "If you decide to stay, that is. But you'll have to listen to my music." "I could live with that," I said, trying to memorize forever her face at this moment. "Do you think I should find a job, too?" I chuckled. "Let's not push it. Let's just take it one step at a time." "Okay, Lani. In two weeks then." END Other stories at from this author at: ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Redman/ * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 80