Chapter 4: Sully Our Furniture, Degenerate

There’s this thing about small towns.

The air feels lighter. The breeze crisper. The people friendlier. It’s like this weird little bubble you don’t want to leave. Boring? Maybe. Safer? Not necessarily. But somehow, it feels…I don’t know.

More real?

Everybody seems to know I’m an outsider the moment I show my face: first at the gas station, then at the deli off of Main street, now again at the library where I’m killing some time, deciding what to do next. It’s uncanny. Do I really stick out that much? Or is this town so small that everyone really does know everyone else?

I find myself a romance novel and a plush chair to sit and read on. The two girls on the cover stare longingly into each other’s eyes in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt. Yes, it’s sapphic. In case it wasn’t obvious by me eye-humping Addison Grey for a few hours this morning, I’m extremely into girls. I’m not planning on checking this book out—not like I have a library card here or any intent to get one—but I can bang out a quick book in a few hours, if I have no distractions.

I go to shut my phone off, noting the 14 missed calls and twice as many unanswered messages. Some are from my Dad. Not sure I care what he has to say. Most are from Hannah. Definitely don’t care what she has to say. I crush the power button before my willpower crumbles. 

That life is behind me. That life is dead to me.

So I open my new book and venture into a new life, as I have many times before. The more unlike mine it is, the better. This one may be contemporary, but it promises things I’ve certainly never felt. Safety. Stability. True love. Incredible sex.

The book centers around Alicia, a starving artist trying to catch her big break in San Francisco, and her prospective agent, a no-nonsense woman named Sarah. The two have instant chemistry, but neither one wants to make the first move. They struggle to remain professional as their lives collide, but neither one can resist the allure of the other.

A quarter way through, I’m already invested. Halfway, and I am gripping every page like a lifeline. By the time the two characters are finally kissing, having fought past a myriad of differences, tough circumstances, and misunderstandings, I am practically tearing up. It’s always been like this for me. Reading about the happy endings of others…it gives me hope that I might feel the same, one day.

Then their kissing starts to heat up. Alicia, the current POV character, wraps her arms around Sarah and pulls her closer, tugging hungrily on her button-up blouse. Sarah’s professional façade breaks. Her tongue slips into the kiss, causing Alicia to let out a muffled moan. It’s clear there is no stopping them now. They’re in too deep. I know that kind of hunger, that urgency, that intense desire that overcomes all inhibitions, breaks down all walls. Alicia starts unbuttoning Sarah’s blouse, reaching in to feel her smooth skin, cupping one of her breasts over the fabric of her lacy bra…

I squirm uncomfortably in my seat. This is not my preferred place to read a sex scene. Not that there’s a lot of people around but…still. When it gets to this point, I like to be under the covers, where my hands are free to mimic what’s happening on the page, and my mind can truly wander. It makes the whole thing more sensual, and the words on the page that much more real.

I can’t get away with that here, but I don’t want to put this book down just yet, so I keep reading, resisting the urge to lose myself completely in the scene. But the more the two characters grope and kiss, the harder it becomes for me to keep a lid on it. My face flushes. I cross my legs one way, then the other way, my thighs sliding against one another. My body seeks friction. In the story, clothing starts to fly off. After hundreds of pages of sexual tension, the scene moves with a breakneck pace. Sarah’s lips are all over Alicia’s body; down her neck, across her shoulder, her chest. Jeans are unbuttoned. The kisses slide further down, down, down…

I poke my head up and look around. There really is nobody here. The place is barren. It is a small town, after all. Maybe I can let myself get a little more lost in this story. Maybe I can let myself feel something for a bit.

Okay, I'm gonna be brutally honest for a second. It’s been a while for me. It’s been, let’s just say, too long for me. Things with Hannah were strained for a while. I found myself often seeking pockets of alone time during which I could get some release, but they were few and far between. I can’t remember when the last time was someone actually touched me. So now, with steamy words jumping off this page, my body desperate for attention, and Addison Grey very much still on my mind, I lose control.

My mind clouds over. With how quiet and lonely this place is, I can make believe I’m back in my bed, under the covers, candles lit, soft music playing over my bluetooth speakers. I hunch up a little in my seat, my arms pushing up against my breasts. My left hand wanders, trailing between my thighs. This is dangerous. I’m losing myself in the story, in Alicia and Sarah, their love, their lust. Naked bodies pressed together. Tongues interlocking. Hands searching for heat.

When Alicia’s finger slides inside Sarah, the description of her wetness is enough to send me over the edge. Gods, I need that so bad. I can’t help myself anymore. I part my thighs just enough to press my fingers against my crotch, desperate to feel something there. A gasp escapes my lips as I imagine those fingers belong to Addy. I’m just as wet as Sarah is under there, that much is obvious. 

In the story, Sarah is panting, asking for more. A second finger joins the first. I unbutton my jeans. Sarah’s nails dig into Alicia’s bare back as her pleasure builds. My hand slowly makes its way underneath my panties. Fuck, if only I was alone right now… I want to recreate this scene so bad. I want to claw Addy’s back while she pushes her fingers deep inside me. I can almost picture her smirk as she fucks me. Yes, please…more, more…!

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

The moment I realize where the voice is coming from, I snap back to reality. Two alternate worlds—Alicia and Sarah, me and Addy—come crashing down around me. A woman looms over me, arms crossed. Her skin is a dark, rich brown with cold undertones, her eyes the brightest sapphire-blue I have ever seen. She pushes a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses up her nose as she stares down at me. Two long, black braids hang over her shoulders, many rows of smaller braids running across her scalp. All of her features are petite—her upturned nose, razor-thin brows, sharp chin—except her lips, which are so plush my eyes can’t help but linger on them for a moment.

What can I say? I literally have sex on the mind. The moment I realize what’s happening, my hand shoots out from my jeans and I cross my legs. The book falls out of my hands, clattering to the floor. “Ohmygods,” I practically shout. My heart pounds in my chest. Where did she even come from? I could have sworn there was nobody around…

Of course there was, you idiot. You’re in a public place. What the hell were you thinking? Only, I wasn’t really thinking, not at all. Just reacting, like always. 

The girl glances over to the book, which landed with its cover facing up. “Ah. I see,” she says. Despite her size, she looms over me, arms crossed over her chest. She looks to be about the same height as me, just a couple inches over five feet. Maybe a few years older than me, thirty or so if I had to guess. She’s wearing a black overall dress over a white collared blouse, a black bow clasped across her neck. Between that dress and her glasses, she’s either a librarian who takes the librarian thing seriously, or she masquerades as a goth lolita in her spare time. Either way, I am into it; or at least I would be, if I wasn’t currently dying of embarrassment. “You know…there is a time and place for that sort of thing.” She clicks her teeth. “Good taste, though.”

I stare up at her, still in shock. “Th-thanks—I mean, um, I’m sorry,” I sputter. I’m covering up my unbuttoned jeans with my hand, too shy to clasp it shut while she is standing right over me. How much did she notice? Did she see where my hand was? Can she see how wet my fingers still are? Oh, gods, just smite me now and get it over with.

She rolls her eyes. “Stand up.” I hesitate for just a moment—if I stand, she’ll definitely see—after which her voice gets sterner. “I said, stand.” I am on my feet almost immediately. It’s like my legs have a mind of their own. This girl could tell me to jump off a cliff and I’d be plummeting before I even had a moment to think about it. She drags her eyes up and down my body, lingering for a moment on my waist. Okay, yup, she sees, and I am just going to go die now.

There is a twinkle of something in her eyes just then. I can’t put my finger on it. Amusement? Curiosity? Disdain? Some strange combination of the three? She nods her head towards the book on the ground. “Pick it up,” she orders. 

My knees wobble a little. My eyes are like saucers. I nod and do as she says, needing to turn to the side and bend over to reach it. When face her again, I catch her eyes wandering. “I’m so sorry, ma’am—” I start to repeat. 

Her gaze centers back on me. “Miss Gelsper,” she cuts me off. 

“M-miss Gelsper, I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again,” I say. Then, reflexively: “Wait, Gelsper?” I’ve heard that name before. That was Addy’s landlord’s last name, right?

She rolls her eyes. “You’re new here, aren’t you.”

I nod. “Yeah, I was just killing some time—” 

“A word of advice,” she interrupts. “Unless you’re just begging for attention, maybe try taking the book home before using it to fuel your imagination.” She narrows her eyes. “You’re not begging for attention, are you?”

“No, ma’am,” I say. She clicks her teeth again, her brows shooting up. “I mean, No, Miss Gelsper.” Fuck, okay, I know I’m all riled up from the book and everything, but getting scolded shouldn’t be this hot, right? My face must be burning red right now. 

“I don’t know about that.” Her gaze is dismantling me. I swear she sees right through everything I say. Does she know this is only making me even more turned on? Is she fucking with me right now? How is she doing this? “Now, will you be taking this book home with you, or returning it to the shelf?”

“I, uh,” I stammer. I don’t know how to say that I don’t have a home right now, so I go with: “I don’t have a card here.” 

“I’ll make you one. Your ID?” she commands. I try to protest, but the words just don’t come out. I might call her a bitch if she didn't have this hold over me. Instead, I reach into my clutch and hand over my ID, because I am a sucker. If she wanted to, she could probably rob me blind and wouldn’t even need to resort to blackmail to do it. She scans over the ID, one eyebrow raised. “Lum Everness?”

I don’t usually get embarrassed about my chosen name, but c'mon, this girl literally caught me with my pants down. “Th-that’s me,” I reply with a shrug. 

“...Right. Well, Mx. Everness. I will take this to the front counter. Mrs. Wiley will assist you when you are ready to check out. You may continue browsing, so long as you do not continue to sully our furniture with your degeneracy.” 

I could literally die right now. I nod and start to walk off at once, but her hand snatches my wrist as I go. Her hands are ice-cold. “And one other thing.” She forces both of our hands up to eye level, then brings her thumb up to my palm, then my index and middle fingers. My throat clamps shut as she glides her thumb across the wetness there, the evidence of my “degeneracy.” She examines my drenched fingers like a scientist might study a curious specimen. Was she always standing this close? I realize with shock that she is holding them just inches from her face, her lips, her nose. She can probably smell my arousal. Fuck, I’ve been getting even wetter this whole time, and my jeans are still not even buttoned. 

Finally, after the moment has stretched out longer than I thought possible, she drops my arm and locks her eyes with mine. “Clean yourself up, Mx. Everness.” Then she stomps off with my ID, leaving my jaw hanging open, my jeans still sullied, and my breath caught in my lungs.

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