Mirror

“I think Alessandra is your spirit animal,” Rafe said as he poured vermouth into their mason jars, and Eliza stared at him agape.

“What are you even saying?” she said, taking a sip of the vermouth and taking in its herbaceousness. 

Her husband looked at her, taking off his apron.

“I mean, I think she is something that you want to be. Something about her that you admire, and that is why you are so obsessed with her.”


“I am not obsessed with Alessandra!” she denied as she looked at him, finally closing her mouth. “I have been through a lot with her and more than I should have been through for someone who is just a friend, don’t you think so?”

“I do think so, Eliza, but that does not mean that you do not admire her. From the time she got involved with Oscar, you were jealous of her, and then you friended her, then you wanted her–”

“I never wanted her Rafe, let’s be very clear about that.”

He sighed.

“Look, all I know is there is something deeper here, and I am not sure what it is.”

“I know,” Eliza finally conceded. “I know that there is something deeper here, and I am not sure what it is either.” Rafe took a sip of his own vermouth, and then he kissed her forehead. Eliza put her arms around him. “I do not know what it is about her, but she just got to me, you know?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I know.”

“I am actually glad she is with Leon. Going to shows and seeing her was a lot to contend with because she is not a small shot in the art world, and we were so close at one point…”


Eliza remembered Alessandra seeing her get involved with Emmanuel, and she knew at that point that Alessa knew something about her that she did not know about herself. She knew her too well, and that was what made her so close to her because she felt like she knew her like she was like her. She was more animal with Alessa than she had been before her, and she had never done some of the things that she did with her with anyone else. Not being friends with her anymore meant that someone knew who she really was who could use that against her, and it made her feel small. 

She thought that she had made the most profound human connection with someone that was now not a part of her life. Who else would she be that person with? Was she even herself with Alessa? Rafe was her husband, and that was a deep but different kind of connection. Jeanne was her sister, but that was something different too. Oscar was her lover. Bibi was her daughter. But Alessa had been her mirror.

 

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Dear Diary…

“You are too worried about this Eliza,” Oscar said as he put his hand around her wrist gently and she looked up at him from her phone.

His eyes were soft as he looked at her but serious.

There were new pictures of Alessandra and who Eliza knew was Leon together on Instagram. She knew his profile because they had all been intimate at one point kissing over his dick in a soft-core threesome. One of the things that probably made Alessa think there was more between them. But there was not a close-up of Leon, and Eliza could only think that Leon would not have wanted to be in the pictures and that it was Alessa’s show — her social media.

Leon was a gentleman if nothing else, Eliza had always thought there was something about them, He was always there for Alessa. He was one of the few people that Alessandra could be intimate with and then still be around all of the time. She must have loved him, and the way she was looking at him on her Instagram. Kissing his hand like she had kissed his dick. The way she looked up at him and he held her intimately. It looked like the picture version of an adolescent girl’s Dear Diary entry.

Except it was visual.

Leon was handsome, but the way Alessa took pictures of him he looked almost godlike. One picture of his mouth was so obscene. The close-up smile on his face looked obscene with happiness, Eliza wondered how they had gotten so close so quickly when she was doing so many tortured artist pictures previously.

“You called me over to look at her Instagrm because you thought she was posting disturbing things, now you are mad because it looks like she is on love?”


“You’ve seen her and Leon together–where did that come from? It feels like she is just fucking with us…”

Eliza ran a manicured finger over the screen, and Oscar picked up her hand and kissed it.

“Fucking with us, or with you?”

She stared at him, her mouth open.

“Eliza, Alessandra is not worried about me anymore that is for sure. She was infatuated with you when she was with me. I used to tease her that she was only with me to meet you.”


“She said the same thing about you. That she left you because you were still in love with me.”


“When have I been out of love with you Eliza?”

She put her phone down, when he leaned in to kiss her. His mouth warm, a weapon to induce desire. The first time he kissed her, she was never the same after.

“Smile at me the way that Leon smiled at Alessa…” he said.

How could she smile at him when he was kissing her so thoroughly?

 

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Belonging

Alessandra threw the last of their belongings into the back of Leon’s truck. Half of the reason why she agreed to go with him was that he offered to drive her to the woods. He closed the truck and looked down at her with a soft smile. What had happened between them made everything so different, and changed the way she looked at everything around her.

She had come here in a very dark place. Seeing Oscar and Eliza together had been very rough for her. Her breakup with Oscar had been amicable enough, it was clear that he could not possibly love her as much as he loved Eliza. And seeing Eliza be with everyone around her and deny her was torturous. She got it that she was not into women, but there was something about the dynamic of their relationship and her rebuff that really hurt her. Everything Alessandra posted online recently had been reflective of that — intentionally or not. But what she saw here, what was so clear with her looking up at Leon looking down at her haloed by the sun was that in her darkest moment she wanted to be with him.

She felt safe with him, she felt safe to be around him because she knew he would not judge her for being herself. Alessandra knew she was complicated she was every cliche of an artist, but she also deserved to be loved and she wanted to love. 

It just never worked out for her.

“Sometimes I think I can see your brain moving on its axis,” he smiled and kissed her forehead. She flushed because it was such a sweet tender kiss and nothing like the kisses they had shared for the duration of their trip, but it was so heartfelt she almost could not bear it.

Almost could not bear him.

Leon had his own crosses to bear, but he was the kindest most thoughtful man she knew and with a heart so big.

She stood on tiptoes and he hugged her, bringing her close to his body like he was afraid he would lose her if her let her go. Like a butterfly captured would flitter away. 

Alessandra did not want to be released, she belonged here.

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Silence

In silence, Leon took Alessandra’s hand, and she squeezed his elbow. It was not like they had never had sex before, but they had never made love before.

That was what this was.

The anticipation ran through her like electricity, and she felt the tension in his body too. Excitement and maybe trepidation?

She kissed his upper arm, and he squeezed her hand tighter. They walked into the cabin, and he pressed her to the wall, cupped her face, and kissed her so deeply. Alessandra could not keep her hands off of his body. She knew his body so well, every each of him even though they had had sex before infrequently. His nipples were hard as she rolled one between her fingers, and he licked the corners of her mouth, sucking fiercely on her lower lip. 

Their closeness, their fierce expression of their desire was louder than anything around them. Their silence was more delicate than the silence of the wilderness.

They silently lowered themselves to the floor because neither of them could wait to get to the bed and because on the furry rug was the same as anything else. 

Alessandra looked up at Leon as he settled above her and the look on his face was not any different than how he always looked at her. But now she saw him and how much he cared for her. She caressed his face and he closed his eyes with an orgasmic bliss that made her eyes water and her body open even more.

 

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Wilderness

Alessandra needed to clear her head. Her life was the stuff that artists live for–her distress and agony fueled her work. But it was too much at this point. She needed a detox and decided she needed nature. 

The wilderness.

When she met Oscar, there had been chemistry and they had both been into it not far into their association. He had mentioned Eliza, and it was clear that she had a substantial impact on him. Meeting Eliza seemed like it was going to be more of a thing than meeting his family would have been had she ever gotten to meet them.

Once Oscar told her he was polyamorous–but only with Eliza–she felt a little more comfortable because she had always been polyamorous not always ethically though. How she morphed from being with Oscar to wanting to be with Eliza she did not know, but seeing them together in the hospital stung.

Leon caught up to her presently in the woods. He had demanded he come to the woods with her because he knew she was heartbroken and he didn’t want her to be alone. She loved him, their history was storied as they had both been sluts together and separately but always loved each other. They had had sex solo before as well, but it was always part of something else. 

He was heartbroken too because he had wanted to be with Sally, but she was not interested. He tried to lure her as a friend but much like Eliza, she was not drawn to him.

When he took her hand, Alessandra was happy and squeezed his hand.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she said and he grabbed her butt affectionately. But this time when he did, she felt something she never had before. Leon was very tall and lean, this time when she looked up at him and he smiled down at her she felt soft. She put her hand on his chest and he studied her carefully.

“Of course Alessa, I love you.”

Her hand traveled up his chest and he took her hand in his. They stood frozen for a moment before their lips joined and created a gentle heat between them. Now he grabbed her ass, but it was to caress it and touch the edge of her cheek just out of the edge of her micro shorts. Alessandra was breathless and panting as he pulled her up against him so she could feel every bit of his frame.

 

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No More Words

Eliza owed nothing to Alessandra. When she and Oscar walked back into her hospital room together, Alessandra’s indictment was glaring but it did not mean anything. Clearly, she and Alessandra were not going to be able to resurrect their relationship, but they had tried at least. 

She and Oscar left Alessandra in her hospital bed because there was nothing to say to her and if she could look that belligerent it was obvious she was doing better then when she had passed out. Oscar took her hand and kissed her temple before he left and Alessandra sat there kind of frozen with her hand stuck in the position he had kissed it in.

Eliza did not say a word to Alessa when she left, but it was the digital trail that followed her that let her know that Alessandra needed to have the last word. Whether it was her social media which was not even directed at her or shots from her studio where she was working, Eliza knew that everything was a message to her and Oscar.

Nothing was said directly @ either of them, but her cryptic tweets and dark images that she was working on which were not at all congruent with what she had been originally working on were clear to Eliza if no one else that she was angry and hurt.

Alessandra Wagnall had a following, and the things that she said and did were scrutinized by her followers who tracked her images in the media and speculated. Eliza herself had been noted as a particularly close gal pal of Alessandra’s and she wondered if that was what had caused Alessandra to feel the way she did. Maybe the media made her think she loved her?

Of course, she knew that was not true, but it kind of felt like it could have been nurtured whatever was there. The digital world was a hotbed for anything under the universe. Eliza did not even like social media herself, but she had been more drawn into it because it was everywhere and because she wanted to know if Alessandra would go any deeper. On Instagram, her current work was getting likes in the thousands. 

Alessandra’s most recent photo was of herself in micro shorts and her hair covering her upper torso more than her blouse almost. She looked reminiscent of Jackson Pollock straddling her own canvas on the ground. Her dark hair almost touching the canvas. Eliza’s fingers hovered over the likes for the post which said simply, “No More Words.”

She was beautiful, and Eliza clicked away from the site because she was stalking Alessandra almost as much as Alessandra had been stalking her.

 

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Retro: Tentacle Porn

It was not until Eliza was invited to another dinner at Martin and Laure’s house that she thought about Margaux—because she was still there. Eliza thought that she had returned to Paris, so she was really startled to see Margaux at the house.

“Hello,” Margaux said, embracing her and kissing her on both of her cheeks.

Eliza returned her kisses, and smiled at her. Margaux stepped in closer so she could hug Rafe, and Eliza held his hand tighter while they kissed.

At the table, they ended up sitting next to Margaux—well Rafe sat next to her. The theme for this dinner was not as sensual as the last one, but heavy on the elegance with waitstaff with slicked back hair and waistcoats. Dinner was beef again with a decadent wine gravy, that Eliza wished to dab the excess on her plate up with her fingers. She turned to looked over at Rafe, when she heard a loud crash.

“I am so sorry,” Rafe said to Margaux, who slowly rose from her seat to reveal the savory gravy all over her bare legs. She wiped her legs with napkins that were handed to her.

“I am so sorry,” Rafe repeated, covering his mouth and staring at her as she wiped up.

“It is not a big deal cheri,” she smiled, dabbing him with a gravy-soiled napkin. “Not a big deal at all, it is so savory…I could lick it off…” She dabbed some off of her leg, and licked it in Rafe’s face.

Eliza coughed, and stood up to attend Margaux—and to get between her and Rafe.

“Do you need any help?” Eliza questioned her softly.

Margaux licked more gravy off of her shapely legs, and licked it. Rafe stared at her, and Eliza was not sure he was breathing.

“Non,” Margaux said to her. “I will be right back…”

*****

Hours later, most of the dinner guests had left, but Eliza and Rafe were still there.

“I am so sorry about the gravy,” Rafe said to Margaux again, and Eliza could smell the wine on his breath.

“Oh, I have definitely had worse on me!” Margaux grinned sheepishly.

“You really have!” Laure said, looking at her sister with a knowing look.

“What, you sisters are keeping secrets? You have to share everything with your guests!” Rafe demanded, and Eliza downed her wine and reached for the bottle before someone could pour it for her.

“Well in Paris, and now here in New York,” Margaux looked at Laure, before she continued. “I work as a fetish model.”

“Like Bettie Page?” Rafe asked.

“Yes, exactly,” Margaux nodded, smiled and added shyly. “And since people are always saying I resemble Myrna Loy…”

“You do,” Eliza said, taking another sip of wine and not wanting to be forgotten. Not wanting anyone to forget that she was sitting next to her fiancé.

“Yes, so I get a lot of vintage and retro jobs…” Margaux continued. “But I did do some tentacle porny stuff. I was in vintage underwear, and this realistic looking tentacle thing was placed on me. It was creepy! But at least it was a photo still, and none of it went inside me, you know?”

“She is like Bettie Page to us?” Laure announced. “In our family, she is like our French Bettie Page. She does a lot of fetish stuff that looks like stuff Bettie Page would do. And some of the older pulp stuff too. She’s beautiful so…” Laure ran her hands through her sister’s hair. “But we tease her about it, I ask Martin how it feels have married the not-so sexy sister!”

“And I do not answer!” Martin burst out laughing.

“Smart man!” Rafe laughed, and the men looked at each other conspiratorially.

Eliza laughed, but she did not find anything funny really.

“We should have taken pictures of you with gravy on you!” Laure declared. “You even managed to make a gravy spill sexy—licking it off! It must be someone’s fetish after all!”

“I really am sorry,” Eliza heard Rafe whisper to Margaux again.

“I told you cheri, it was nothing. It was not tentacles after all…It was nothing…”

“Okay,” Rafe said, looking at her nodding.

But Eliza wondered if it was really nothing, as she put her wine glass down.

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Comfort

“She’s still asleep,” Oscar said, and Eliza felt soothed with his hand on top of hers. 

Alessandra had fainted at the cafe, and she was still excitable, so they had given her a sedative to calm her down. Oscar was called because he was her emergency contact even though they had broken up a long time ago. It was good to have him there. Eliza was pretty shaken up after the incident because she did not know what had caused Alessa to pass out.

Oscar had hugged her when he had walked into the hospital room, and she immediately felt comforted and safe.

“You did not tell me that you were seeing Alessa,” he said, kissing her temple.

“I was going to tell you after I saw you, and then she fainted.”

“I think it is good that you guys got together because you did become very close friends. I was sad that it ended the way that it did.”

“I love Alessa, but I do not love her that way that she wants me to love her, and I do not want to feel guilty about that. My whole connection with her has been so bizarre. Her being with you, then she and I being so close, and then her falling in love with me.

“I know,” Oscar said, pulling her closer and kissing her temple. 

Eliza looked up at Oscar, and he kissed her. It was so natural to kiss him like that, she kissed him in earnest. He took her hand, and they walked outside of Alessa’s room. Her room was right in front of the nurse’s station, so they knew she was safe.

He pulled her into a stairwell, and it was very deja vu of when he pulled her into the staircase when they were in Shanghai. Was it the fear from Alessa passing out that made her need to be calmed down? Was it just seeing Oscar and their history that made the difference?

He pressed her to the wall, kissing her and squeezing her breast. Eliza sucked on the tip of his tongue like she would have sucked him somewhere else because she wanted him so much. He stopped kissing her and swooning she moved toward him.

“I missed you,” he said, holding her face. “I want to look at you.”

The way he looked at her churned her emotions inside like nothing else.

“I want you,” she replied because she could not wait.

Oscar never denied her, and he pulled her dress up. Eliza could hear how wet she was when he slipped his finger inside of her. Eliza spread her legs more and closed her eyes as he finger fucked her so good she did not need him to fuck her in the stairwell. He knew her so well he knew how to quench her desire with just his fingers. 

Oscar took her hand, and she felt kind of light-headed because she had come so hard. When they walked into Alessa’s room holding hands, the patient was sitting up in bed and looked at them where their hands were joined.

 

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Blackout

Alessandra woke up, and she was immediately unsettled because she had dreamt about Eliza. It was not the first time she dreamt about her, but this time it was deeply intimate even though they had not had sex. Alessandra had been close to her as a lady in waiting in medieval times and she had told her that she loved her. Eliza told her that she loved her too but it was not convenient.

Now on her side and sweaty, Alessandra wondered if that was why Eliza did not want to be with her? That she had some medieval construct about love and what she was supposed to want? There was no way that they could have been as close as they had been, and she was the only one who came out of it being in love she felt. They were always together at one point, how could it have just been her?

That morning, she texted Eliza. She wondered if she would respond back and she did. They agreed to meet at a cafe near Eliza’s.

Seeing Eliza sitting at the table with her long, dark hair sipping from a large cup made Alessandra tear up. The disappointment from the rejection was too much to bear and it was interfering with her life. Rabekkah refused to speak to her once she realized it was Eliza who had spurned her, and now here she was watery-eyed and looking longingly at this woman whose love she could not attain.

“Used to be so commonplace for us to meet up like this,” she said with a bitter smile. “Or at each other’s place.”

“Indeed until you kicked me out of your car that night and said my husband was dishonest to me.”

Alessandra rolled her eyes, it had not been her best night.

“I was upset.”

“Yes, I learned that.”

Suddenly, Alessandra turned on her heel, she had to go.

And then everything went black.

 

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RETRO: INDEPENDENCE DAY

Cleo needed her independence.

She went on another “adventure”–to find him.

She knew that she needed to see him again, because she was so heavy when she went to touch herself that she could barely bring herself to achieve pleasure because her labia was thick. She ached for him, and she was afraid he would know it when he touched her.

“He”—she did not even say his name in her head, she thought of him “Him,” like something reverent. She texted him, and he texted her what was she waiting for?

He touched her like she touched ripe fruit. Between her legs heavy and wet, he caressed her until she groaned with her need and ache.

“What?” he asked, as he touched her like he was picking a mango or something. Cleo was wet and sticky to the top of her thighs. She leaned against him helplessly, and he did not stop touching her.

“You…know…what!” she was incoherent to herself, as he played with her even more. She had memorized his fingers, and he touched her like he had memorized her.

“You have to tell me, you keep coming to me but you never tell me. I need to hear what you want from me,” he semi-pleaded.
“I want you,” she said helplessly, and he stopped touching her. He took her face in his hands and she could smell herself on his fingers. He kissed her, and she nibbled his lips like she was ingesting them. So hungry she was his lips, his taste, his mouth that she did not even need him to make contact with her body in any other way but their lips.

Cadmus had asked her if she had enjoyed her adventure—this was not an adventure anymore. She wanted this man, needed him in a way she had never needed Cadmus and she did not need to want Cadmus that way.

What she felt as her lips throbbed–both sets–was something she was not expecting to feel, and she wanted to explore it as much as she could.

With Him.

 

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