THE ADVENTURES OF BETTE PORTER AND SISSEE GARDNER AFTER YALE (Part 1, Chapter 2)- NC-17

PART ONE:  Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut

Chapter 2

I reached in to turn on the faucet, regulating the temp to a comfortable warm and helped Bette into the shower. She immediately leaned against the wall and slid down on her fanny.

“Damn,” I said, under my breath. I quickly stripped off my clothes and stepped into the stall to get her back on her feet. That done, I made sure the spray splashed about her head and face. She protested at first with flaying arms but then wisely gave in as we both got a good soaking.

She seemed to rally somewhat when we got out of the shower. Then she began to apologize profusely as I towel dried both of us down and walked her to Patty’s bed. She gratefully laid down and smiled at me as I pulled the comforter up to her neck and literally tucked her in.

I then went to my own bed and fell asleep in seconds. Was it hours later or had only minutes gone by when I was suddenly awakened by Bette as she slipped between my sheets and snuggled her naked body close to mine, her front to my back – like one spoon.

I had never been with a woman before and it is difficult to explain how it felt to be so close to one. I can only say that tiny needles of electricity surged throughout my whole body. While that was happening she gently turned my head to hers and began to kiss me on my mouth, warm kisses that turned hot. Kisses all over my face, my neck, my shoulders on down. I went hopelessly limp. Nary a word was spoken as she proceeded to engulf me with her passion. I remember how skilful she used her tongue and how adept she was with her hands – arousing me to a quick and satisfying finish.

Then, just as suddenly as she was there, she quietly slipped out of my bed and back into Patty’s. I didn’t know what to do. She came on to me, she satisfied me and she left. It felt incomplete. I wondered if she wanted me to do the same thing to her. To slip into her bed and reciprocate. I wondered but I was too afraid to make the move.

I laid awake the rest of the night and saw the gray of dawn at the window. I was supposed to meet friends that morning for breakfast. I got up quietly, showered, dressed and then stopped at the door on my way out, to look back at Bette fast asleep. Her curly auburn hair fell gracefully over the pillow. Her skin looked like a warm cup of coffee with lots of cream and sugar. Sweet and tan.

I thought about her around campus. I thought about what a high energy person she was but laying there she was very still, breathing shallowly and if she struck me last night as extremely beautiful, this morning she was divinely so. With a heavy sigh, I left the room.

When I returned a few hours later – Bette was gone.

Our relationship continued as before, a wave, a smile, an occasional brief conversation. It was as if nothing had happened between us. We went on to graduate from Yale and went our separate ways.

I often thought about Bette Porter and wondered if our paths would ever cross again. I hoped so because I owed her one.