“This is going to suck ass!”
Jenniane puffed a lock of copper hair from her eye as she sulked, laying on her brightly-colored bed. Her bare feet bounced against the headboard in frustration.
“It’s no different from last year, Jenni; sure it’s annoying, but what’s the big deal?”
Her best friend Adrian mashed buttons on the video game controller; her tone was simultaneously exasperated and distracted. Jenniane had been bitching about the Senior Halloween Masquerade more or less non-stop for the last week, ever since she’d been informed that her mom was, once again, going to chaperone. “My mom’s going to be there too, you know.”
“Yeah, but your mom doesn’t give a shit!” Jenniane whined, with a note in her voice that set Adrian’s teeth on edge. “My mom will be watching me like a hawk! It’s going to be so… lame!”
Adrian rolled her eyes and dropped the controller, turning on her friend. “Oh, gee, I’m Jenni and it sucks soooo much to have a mom that cares about me and pays attention to me,” she mocked, running her hand through her black hair with faux anxiety. “You should really chill, babe. My mom hardly even looks at me!”
“Maybe you should wear tighter jeans; she seems to look a lot at the girls in tight jeans.”
“Not funny!” Adrian lobbed a killing gaze at Jenniane, who barely stifled a giggle. Sounds of anguish wafted from the video game, and Adrian retrieved her controller to save herself from certain demise. “All I’m saying is, you should go easy on your mom. That’s all. She’s… she’s nice. You don’t see her good qualities.”
“Look, it is what it is. If you’re not going to do something about it, I don’t want to hear any more bitching. I’m tired of hearing about the ‘stupid’ fairy queen costume you have to wear, and how you won’t get to dance the way you want or with who you want and how you can’t sneak off with KJ and make out in the locker room, and how your life is just ruined because your last school dance before prom is just ruined. Either figure out how to fix it, or suck it up and get some perspective!”
“Do something about it? Like what?” Jenniane pondered, scrunching up her nose. “Like do some voodoo and hope she gets sick?”
“Yeah, sure. Voodoo. Great idea. Get on that.”
Other than the sounds of mayhem from Adrian’s game, the room was silent for a few minutes.
“What if we switch costumes?” Jenniane blurted out.
“Stick to voodoo, babe,” Adrian sighed.
“No, really. When our moms leave to set up, we can dye our hair and switch costumes! We wear the same size! My mom will be watching you all night, and I can do whatever!”
“What if she wants to talk to me?” Adrian asked, some concern in her voice.
“Just, you know, be huffy and emo.”
“God knows that’s your favorite conversation style. So, what, just huff and sigh and walk away so she doesn’t hear my voice?”
“Lame!” Adrian grimaced. “No way. Plus, if my mom wants to talk to you, do you even know enough sign language to pull it off? You’ve only been practicing for like a year. You fuck up something easy and it’s game over.”
“Sure I do! Plus, how likely is that anyway? You just said she doesn’t pay attention to you!”
Adrian heaved a deep, defeated sigh. “This is a stupid idea, Jenni.”
“Why?” Jenniane pressed.
“Because… it just is,” Adrian replied, a tinge of nervousness in her voice. “So much can go wrong, and for what?”
“What could go wrong?”
“I dunno, something. Anything.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to start bitching again.” Jenniane said, turning to face the wall.
“Jesus Christ!” Adrian threw her hands in the air. “If it’ll shut you up for the next week, fine. Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Are you absolutely sure this fits the dress code?” Jenniane asked as she examined herself critically in the full-length closet mirror. Adrian’s dryad costume consisted of a brown strapless tube dress festooned with large, stylized fabric leaves, and textured to mimic the bark of a tree. It clung tightly to her waist, deftly highlighting the curve of her hips and the above-average swell of her bust. Soft green vines twined sensuously around Jenniane’s arms and legs.
“To the milimeter,” Adrian replied, doing a little spin in the costume that was formerly Jenniane’s. “My God, this is so pretty! I can’t believe you were complaining about it!”
The fairy queen costume was a strapless, multi-layered, ankle-length dress made from skillful applications of peach and cream taffeta and fluffy chiffon, dusted with a liberal application of glitter. It hid her waist and long legs, but Adrian’s biggest worry was that she seemed like she was on the verge of spilling out on the top. Fingerless, elbow-length white gloves completed the ensemble, and Adrian really did feel like royalty.
Jenniane turned to give her friend a once-over. “You make that look way better than I did.”
“My tits are a little bigger than yours. Your mom better not notice this grand canyon of cleavage up here, or we’re fucked.”
“Here,” Jenni reached into her closet and pulled canlı bahis şirketleri out a lightweight cream scarf. “Throw this on, it’ll be perfect. Ok, final check, masks on!”
Jenniane’s shoulder-length hair had taken the black dye perfectly. Adrian’s hair had turned out a shade darker than Jenni’s natural copper, but nobody would notice with the lighting so low. Beyond that, with the masks (and Adrian’s scarf), they were better than passable for each other.
Satisfied, Jenniane put the finishing touches on her makeup and Adrian applied a thin layer of body glitter to her arms and shoulders while they waited for their ride. It was just about go time.
Jenniane seemed calm and confident, but Adrian was a bundle of nerves. So much could go wrong, really wrong, and she found herself regretting that she’d agreed to this stupid plan. She didn’t see what Jenni gained from this; having a mom who was interested and engaged in her life didn’t sound like that much of a torture. What she wouldn’t give for a gesture of affection or a fun conversation with her mom!
Their ride showed up right on time, and they were off.
They arrived at the dance and drifted towards the punch, unsure of what to do now. Jenni searched the crowd for KJ, but Adrian hadn’t thought this far ahead. Should she mingle? Her voice would give away the ruse to any of her friends, and what if they slipped up and outed her? She couldn’t come up with an idea of what a worst-case scenario would entail, which made her even more anxious.
“Oh, look at you two!”
The thick, deliberate pronunciation of one who was born without hearing caught their attention and they turned, seeing Adrian’s mom Lisa walking over to them. She was 39, tall, athletic, and shared Adrian’s natural jet black hair. She wore a blue fitted dress that came down to her knees, hugging every curve along the way.
“You girls look stunning! Your mom made the punch,” she looked at her disguised daughter, “it’s just delightful! Let her know I said so! We’ll be trying to stay out of you kids’ way, but don’t go getting into trouble. At least not too much trouble.”
Lisa smiled saucily, and Adrian thought she saw her mom give her a very subtle wink. Why would her mom wink at Jenni? Jenni never got into trouble. Her mom made sure of that.
Lisa wiggled her fingers at the pair and wandered off. Adrian found that she’d been holding her breath; she let out a trembling exhale as Jenni giggled excitedly.
“It works! Oh my God, it’s perfect! I’m going to go dance!”
An hour later, Adrian was still at the punch bowl. She hadn’t gotten the courage to move off into the crowd, and was simultaneously bored stiff and terrified. Jenniane, meanwhile, had no such reservations; she flitted from group to group, stopping only to dance as risquely as possible with anyone who struck her fancy, or refill her punch with a conspiratorial smile at her friend. Adrian hadn’t seen KJ, but she assumed he was somewhere in the throng, or else Jenni wouldn’t be nearly so happy.
Things had been going surprisingly well, and Adrian had just about mustered the courage to get into the spirit of things, when events took a sharp turn.
Jenni came back to the punch bowl, only to discover there were no more cups left. “Well, shit,” she griped, “Have you seen the extra cups?”
“They’re probably under the table,” Adrian suggested, gesturing to the hanging tablecloth. Jenniane bent over to fish them out, when her mom seemingly materialized out of thin air behind her.
Sylvia was a broad-shouldered, wasp-waisted, 36-year-old redhead whose green eyes could change from loving and receptive to hard as jade at a moment’s notice, and right now they were seriously jade. Her satin green cocktail dress caught the light of the lamp on the table as it shifted against her hips, and she threw a well-aimed slap directly at Jenniane’s exposed skin just below her buttocks.
Jenniane squeaked and popped upright, rubbing her backside and opening her mouth to object, but when she saw her mother, she clamped her jaw shut so fast her teeth rattled.
“Adrian, what have I told you about the importance of the dress code!” she scolded. “You skirt is far, far too short to be decent!”
“Sylvie, what’s wrong?” Lisa saw the commotion and hurried over, putting herself at an angle where the lamplight would illuminate the redhead’s face and let her read the other woman’s lips.
“Your daughter’s dress is too short,” Sylvia repeated deliberately, making sure to enunciate each word. Lisa cocked her head, then sighed.
“No it’s not, Sylvie, I measured it myself. Exactly six inches above the knee.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not so sure. I’d like to go to the admin office and measure it, if it’s all the same to you.”
Lisa waved her hand dismissively. “Fine, but if it’s not good, she doesn’t have a ride home right now. Figure something out please?”
“Ok, that will do.” Sylvia turned back to the disguised Jenniane. “I don’t want to hear a single word from you, young lady; if you sass me I will drive you home myself, canlı kaçak iddaa you understand?” Jenniane, dumbstruck, nodded silently. “Good. Go to the admin office and wait for me. I’ll be right behind you.”
It took all of Jenni’s will not to reply with “Yes mom” as she shuffled out of the gym, shoulders slumped in fear and embarrassment. Sylvia had a hushed conversation with another chaperone, the left the gym as well, leaving Adrian alone with the punch and her mother.
Lisa retrieved the spare cups and poured punch for herself and Adrian. “I’m so sorry about that. You know your mother. But at least you have a few moments without her staring at you.”
“Yeah,” Adrian breathed, offering a hesitant smile.
“So how are your art classes coming?”
Adrian was perplexed, and a little angry. Her mother never asked her about her activities! Why would she ask Jenni?
“Pretty good, I guess. I like oil painting the best, I think.”
Lisa engaged Adrian in small talk for some time; at first Adrian only allowed it because she had to keep the deception going as long as possible while she looked for an escape. When Jenni and Sylvia didn’t immediately return, she was sure the gig was about to be up in the most awkward way possible. After a bit, however, she found she enjoyed talking to her mother, that she craved the normalcy of conversation and light affection from this normally cold and distant woman. She found herself smiling at Lisa’s light touches on her hand and arm, and giggling at her jokes. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of this an hour ago; the only person she could safely talk to her was the one person who couldn’t hear her voice.
Lisa pulled Adrian from her wandering thoughts with a flurry of hand motions; ‘How’s your sign language coming?’ she asked in ASL.
Adrian smiled, and signed back: ‘Very well, thank you. I’m enjoying learning it!’
Lisa’s mouth pursed into an O of pleased surprise. ‘You have very nimble fingers!’ She followed it with another wink, this one more open. ‘Would you like to dance?’
Was her mother trying to hit on Jenniane? Adrian followed the conversation back in her mind, and realized that she’d missed several oblique flirtations. Rage built in the pit of her stomach; everyone had heard the rumors about Adrian’s mom checking out the girls from school, and there were more scandalous rumors attached to those, but Adrian had dismissed them entirely. Lisa couldn’t bother to be interested in her own daughter, much less anyone else! To find that there was truth in the gossip, that Adrian had been neglected in favor of… who? Every other girl in her class? It was indescribably insulting.
At the same time, another thought pushed its way into her mind. If this was the way to get approval and affection from her mother… well, God knew she’d made lots of unhealthy choices and taken lots of risks for just that kind of attention from mother-figures. What was one more? This ruse would be over any minute, as soon as Sylvia came back… maybe she should play along, enjoy every gentle touch and kind word that she possibly could from this unique interaction.
Something on her face, or in the length of her hesitation, however, caused Lisa to become concerned. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I’ve offended you. I overstepped myself.” She turned to leave, but Adrian stopped her with a touch on her arm.
‘Not at all,’ she signed. ‘I’d love to dance with you.’ Her smile was tender, and Lisa returned it with one of her own. The high school senior and her mother stepped, arm in arm, onto the dance floor.
The smooth bassline of the Red Hot Chili Peppers “Dark Necessities” rolled out of the speakers. Lisa and Adrian moved to the beat, at first separate dancers who just happened to be in the same place, then, slowly, the distance between them began to shrink. Lisa’s hand brushed Adrian’s hip once, twice, then came to rest in the hollow of the younger woman’s waist. Adrian followed suit, and soon both women were swaying together, their bodies just inches apart, their eyes locked on each other.
Adrian felt light-headed, the surrealism of the situation crossing wires with a growing desire to be touched by this woman, whom Adrian had known all her life but was just now meeting for the first time. She gave herself over to this strange game she was playing, forgetting who Lisa was to her while at the same time revelling in the power than came with the knowledge she had of their true relationship.
Adrian reached up and undid the scarf at her neck, allowing it to fall open and frame, rather than conceal, the smooth skin of her cleavage. “Now that Mom’s not here, I guess I don’t need this,” she said quietly, letting her lips fully pronounce each word.
“I agree, you don’t.” Lisa’s eyes bluntly trailed over the young woman’s flesh, her gaze as solid as a fingertip caress, and Adrian shivered. A part of her wondered what she was doing, what she was getting herself into, how wrong and twisted it all was, but another, growing part of her wanted more. Wanted Lisa to respond, to escalate.
Lisa, as if reading the girl’s mind, canlı kaçak bahis finished off the last vestige of distance between them. Their bodies pressed together, and Adrian felt heat blossoming inside of her at the feel of her mother’s softness.
Adrian knew they couldn’t stay like this for long without attracting too much attention from the other dancers, or, god forbid, a chaperone. Still, she pressed tighter against the taller woman, her mind whirling and her skin covered in goosebumps, unwilling to trade this sensation for the safety of both their reputations.
Lisa, more aware of the clock ticking on their moment, gently pulled away, letting her hands linger on Adrian’s hips. Adrian’s lips pursed into a disappointed pout.
Lisa’s hands moved hesitantly, signing out: ‘I have the key to the teacher’s lounge. Would you like to talk there for a bit?”
Adrian hesitated for a moment; fear rose in her gut to fight against her desire. How far would she really go? What was wrong with her?
Then she took Lisa’s hand in her own, and nodded.
Jenniane trudged into the admin office, tugging the dryad dress down on her thighs. Her heart was racing, but she tried to keep her hopes up; if she just stayed quiet, maybe her mother wouldn’t discover her ruse. Maybe all hell wouldn’t break loose. Maybe she wouldn’t end up grounded until she left for college. Maybe her car keys wouldn’t be confiscated. Maybe she wouldn’t be locked into the cellar and fed only bread and water for the next year.
Ok, maybe she was a little panicked. But it would be fine, she told herself. It would be fine.
The office was dim; only one out of every four of the fluorescent lights was on, which gave the place a sort of creepy, abandoned feeling. The bright red exit sign glowed stoically above the back door to the teacher’s parking lot, silently tempting Jenniane to make a run for it and not look back. This was awful. Adrian had been right. She should never have tried this.
Jenni leaned her elbows on the long counter at the front of the room, just inside the wall of glass looking out to the darkened hallway. She planted her feet about shoulder-width apart, and dropped her head onto her arms. Her mother frequently measured her skirts, so she was well acquainted with the appropriate position. Maybe if she assumed it before the older woman came in, it would be one less opportunity for conversation. She huffed, trying not to cry as her incriminatingly-black hair fell into her face.
She heard the door open and close behind her, and she tensed. She expected to feel the cold metal edge of a ruler against her skin, and hear the disapproving cluck of her mother passing judgment on the scantness of ‘Adrian’s’ wardrobe choice.
“Well aren’t you the cheeky one?”
Sylvia’s voice was low, sultry, and held a smile on the corners. Jenniane felt warm fingertips touch her inner thigh just above her knee and slide softly upwards, leaving a line of fire behind them. She gasped, and turned around to look at her mother.
Sylvia interrupted her with a kiss; forceful yet soft lips pressed tightly against her own, the tip of the older woman’s tongue stealing into her open mouth and sliding atop the surprised teen’s. Sylvia pulled away after a fraction of a second, and before Jenniane’s mind could catch up, her mother transferred the oral affections to the nape of Jennian’s neck.
“I’m sorry Adrian,” she whispered between nibbles, “I know it’s risky, I know we said we wouldn’t tonight, but you look so hot in that costume and I couldn’t keep my hands off you!”
What? Jenniane’s head was spinning. Her mother’s fingers slipped further up her thigh, under her dress, teasing the cleft where her leg met her torso, and those large, soft lips continued to attack her neck, sucking and nibbling. What the hell was going on?
“I can’t wait to get home, I need you now. Just a taste, baby,” Sylvia purred. She lifted her head and kissed Jenniane again, slipping her tongue across the teen’s lips. Her free hand rested on Jenni’s hip and those long, gentle fingers played with the fabric of her panties.
Jenni’s mind was spinning. Her mother was sleeping with her best friend?? For how long?? How could they have kept this secret from her?? Since when was Adrian a lesbian?? Since when was her MOTHER a lesbian?? And how the fuck was she going to get out of this?? Jenni couldn’t tell her mother that she was making a horrible mistake without revealing herself, and it didn’t occur to the young woman that her mother couldn’t possibly get her in trouble after engaging in this behavior. Her mind was stuck on ‘do not be discovered at any cost!’ and was slow to shift gears.
She did the only thing she could think of; she opened her mouth and let her mother’s tongue meet her own.
Jenniane was no stranger to kissing, though she hadn’t ever tried it with another girl before; she closed her eyes, trying to envision KJ on the other end of those lips as she returned Sylvia’s enthusiastic kiss. But KJ’s lips were hard, his tongue insistent, his technique… lacking. Sylvia was entirely different. Her lips were big and soft and stimulated Jenni’s in ways that KJ couldn’t dream of; her tongue was a spanish dancer in the girl’s mouth, weaving and bobbing in a seductive, passionate rhythm that inspired her own to follow its lead.