As Aida talked to her, Eliza could not help but notice that Alessandra had followed Rabekkah to the bathroom. Rabekkah was beautiful and young, and it was obvious something was going on between them from the time she sat down across from them.

She had taken the seat because there was no other place for her to sit. Surely Alessa did not think she would have done that on purpose? It was awkward when Aida said she and Alessa used to be everywhere together because it had been true. They used to be thick as thieves. Eliza had had a hard time adjusting herself to their new status. 

Rafe had asked her if she ever wanted to be with Alessa. Eliza said she had loved her deeply as a friend, but she had never thought about more.

“She said to me if I thought you never slept with a man before, I was wrong.”

Rafe smiled,

“She doesn’t know anything about who I have been to bed with. I have had opportunities with men, some damn sexy ones at that, but that was never my inclination.”

“Same with me,” Eliza nodded. Just because she had an open marriage did not mean she was open to any type of sexual encounter. But it did hurt her that she had hurt Alessa.

Alessandra came out of the bathroom and looked her in the eye when she sat across from her. Rabekkah avoided looking at her, and Eliza took a sip of wine. Aida prattled on endlessly.

People got up from the table throughout the night until it was just the four of them, ironically. Eliza immediately got up to leave the three of them to it. 

She and Alessa were nothing to each other anymore, and that was the truth of it, she thought as she put her wine glass down and headed to the exit.

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image via unsplash by Elliott Stallion

Peepshow was the new art show that Rabekkah was working on. The theme was pseudo-peepshow, and the dress for the show for the gallery aides like her instead of black was red. There were red curtains everywhere, reminiscent of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s The Gates in Central Park years ago.

But there was nothing sexual in this show. It was the theme of anticipation and voyeurism that was rampant. Aida Moravia was the artist, and she was infamous for her mind fuck art. She liked to mess with her audience. It was not infrequent that Rabekkah would be wandering around the gallery, and she would see Aida fucking with her and appearing where she was not supposed to. 

The night of the show, the gallery assistants were encouraged to participate in the show and wander around. Rabekkah enjoyed shows that she was required to participate in. She wore a body-fitting red dress that showed off all of her curves but showed nothing of her. She was pleased about the red platform stilettos she found to match the exact shade of red of her dress which matched the curtains.

She smiled when she walked into people, but the smile left her face when she bumped into Alessandra.

Alessandra smiled in opposition to her and grinned.

“Are you going to go in the opposite direction?” Alessandra laughed, and Rabekkah felt her face burn. She could not accuse her of stalking her at her job. Alessandra was invited to all of the shows at the gallery. Especially as an artist in residence there and with her show having happened just months before. But it still felt like that. Rabekkah had not wanted to see her again. She was ashamed of what had happened between them, not of what they did or what she felt but that she had not been herself. Putting her job at risk and her emotional well-being for a woman who she wanted so desperately at that moment? She never wanted to feel that vulnerable again with someone. But with Alessandra staring at her like she wasn’t wearing anything and licking her lips. Rabekkah felt that desire she could not seem to suppress surge up from the center of her body as she unconsciously licked her own lips.

“No, I am at work,” Rabekkah said coyly, closed the curtain, and walked away.

“Rabekkah?” She recognized Aida’s voice and walked toward her. “Good, have you seen Alessandra Wagnall? She is a special guest tonight; please let me know when she is here?”

“Aida?” Rabekkah turned around at the sound of Alessandra’s voice.

The two women hugged for a long time, and Rabekkah wondered if something was going on between them. 

“Please take extra good care of Alessa,” Aida said with her arms around Alessandra. “Alessa, what do you want?”

Alessandra stared at Rabekkah with a smile.

“Get Alessa some champagne, please Rabekkah?” Aida asked her, and Rabekkah walked away, took a deep breath and prayed to get through the night.

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Rabekkah returned to her apartment later the following day. She decided to go home, Alessandra had not kicked her out but she decided she wanted to be home with her things and to get sleep for real in her own bed.

That was the first time she had ever gone home with a woman she barely knew, and it had been nice. More than nice to be with Alessandra and to learn all of her secrets. To know what she looked like without a stitch of clothing, to know what she felt and tasted like. Knowing that Alessandra had unlocked all of her mysteries as well. 

Looking in her bathroom mirror above the sink, she looked at herself for a second before she braced herself with its smooth marble base and then looked up at herself again. Her mouth looked well used and her neck was red. Her entire body felt used in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. She had not wanted to be with anyone so badly before, and she had needed Alessandra.

But she left because she did not want there to be any confusion. She was not asking her for anything, she had gotten what she wanted and that was that. There was no reason for her to drag it out, in her experience sex was either desired or a currency.

But when Rabekkah put her head down on her own pillow instead of peace, she felt the softness of Alessandra’s cheek against her own and she groaned slipping her hand between her legs. It had been what she desired it to be, and now it felt like she was not sure she could live without it. Without the touch of a woman like Alessandra, who made beautiful things, was beautiful and made her feel beautiful.

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“Alessa.”

The soft diminutive of her name made her realize that someone had touched her arm. She looked up at Leon, his smile was soft and sympathetic.

She was reading the guest book that was left at the art show in the gallery. The gallery assistant had handed it to her, smiled when Alessandra gave her a coupe of champagne. Some of the bubbles splashed onto the pages, but Alessandra did not care.

“She came, Lessa, but she was in the private room, and she left.” Leon looked at her with a kind expression, but she knew how hard up she looked. Looking to see if Eliza had written some comment for her in the guest book when if anything, she should have come up to her and said something to her face to face. Then suddenly she heard what Leon had said.

“Eliza was here?” she asked quietly, looking at him.

“You are so beautiful,” he said and held her chin to kiss her. “This luscious mouth.”

Leon kissed her gently.

“She was in the private room, and she looked at the painting for a long time. Then she left.”

Alessandra looked through the guest book, desperately hoping to see Eliza’s fast handwritten scrawl on a page, and then she saw her script.

Lovely.

The word was tattooed in her mind because she kept wondering if she meant the painting, her, or both.

Leon put his arms around her and lured her away from the table to hand her own coupe of champagne.

“Come on,” Leon said. “The after-party is down the street. Right Rabekkah?” 

“Almost, it moved a few blocks over. I can take you and Ms. Wagnall there,” Rabekkah nodded.

Alessandra stared at Rabekkah. The younger woman obviously was starstruck and wanted to hang out with her. Her eyes looked like stars, and Alessandra was vulnerable enough to want her there because she felt so low about Eliza.

Rabekkah put on her jacket and led them to the bar where there was more champagne. She handed glasses to Alessandra and Leon. Alessandra squeezed Leon’s hand because she knew he had pretended not to know where the restaurant was so Rabekkah could be alone with her.

Rabekkah was lovely. She had thick long dark just like her own that she had just taken out of a bun, and she moved to leave the bar when Leon, of course, stopped her and said,

“Stay.”

If Alessandra was not in the state she had been in since Eliza rejected her, she might have been more up for Rebekkah.

But she was still so sad and “lovely” and was still tattooed on her mind.

Maybe Leon was right, and she should hook up with Rabekkah, who had not taken her eyes off of her all night. And maybe she knew that from the way she had smiled when she handed her the coupe of champagne for the guest book.

They sat close to each other at a high-top table, and Leon got a costly bottle of champagne for them.

The night had just begun…

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featured image via Unsplash by Louise Lyshoj

Alessandra had had more than her fair share of pleasure. She was the epitome of hedonism, but even her critics were saying her latest artwork was like nothing she had ever done before.

The piece had been done for a charity show, she was getting nothing for it but it would donate to a plethora of causes she felt very strongly about.

So when Candida asked her to do the show, and told her the theme was minimalism she was game.

“Following along with the theme of the show, Wagnall still manages her signature lushness but at the same time shows a restraint never seen before from her and shows the full range of the artist’s infinite talent and technique,” Candida read with a smile and Alessandra just stared at her painting until it was a blur.

On the blurry canvas, she remembered the night that she came home and all the pleasure had seeped from her. Nothing had been the same since that night. She had come home with Eliza, and it still stung so sharp.

That night, she remembered Eliza waiting outside of the bathroom–she thought for her. She had put her lipstick on so carefully because she was so aroused. The lipstick on her lips made her think of Eliza’s pussy on her lips. Alessandra had been certain that she was finally going to taste her that night. How desperate she had been for her and when Eliza told her she was not going to be her experiment. Is that all that she had been to her was an experiment? Someone to toy with and not to be loved?

Alessandra had not expected to fall in love with Eliza. She had been dating Oscar, and she had a distinct feeling that Eliza did not even like her. But they had become friends, close friends and she had fallen in love and there was nothing to fill her after Eliza told her that they would not be together.

“Alessandra, that is a rave review baby, aren’t you happy? There is going to be a huge party here tonight!” Candida gushed.

“Can I see the guest list?” Alessandra asked, pulled out of her trance.

Candida handed her the guest list, and she scanned it.

“Eliza Morton,” she said as a whisper but she was sure it was louder than she thought. Candida stared at her as she put the list down and bit her lip.

She pulled her red lipstick out of her purse and applied it.

Carefully.

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