Chapter 3

“And up ’til about two weeks ago? I was all like, ‘well, I still got a million in the accessible trust and that’s a whole lot more than a lot of people got,'” Bramley said and put the hair brush down on Ann’s lap.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a lot more…” Ann started, then stopped as Bramley hugged her from behind, hot breath blowing in Ann’s ear.

“And then you moved in,” Bramley whispered, sucking on Ann’s earlobe.

“Yeah?” Ann shivered.

“Yeah. I mean, I love Haralson. Sometimes? I don’t like him, but I love him,” Bramley admitted.

Ann thought back to Bramley’s comments about Haralson not wanting to try ice skating. Or a new restaurant. She wondered what else Haralson stymied Bramley from trying, from enjoying.

“I saw you and those two guys and I told Haralson I think I’m in love,” Bramley giggled, playfully pinching Ann’s hard nipples through blouse and bra.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be in love,” Ann groaned.

“But then I met you?” Bramley whispered, tugging Ann’s nipples forcefully.

“Mmng!” Ann grunted; that forceful tug when straight from nipples to pussy.

“And I told Haralson I really, really am in love,” Bramley said, releasing Ann’s nipples and squeezing Ann in a fierce hug.

“I, I think I, I think I love you too,” Ann said.

Hand in hand, the two women went into the bedroom. Ann felt her love for Bramley slip a notch or two; Bramley did not make the bed. A few kisses distracted Ann and they undressed.

“This, how you get this so smooth?” Ann asked, gently running her fingertips over Bramley’s hairless mound.

“Laser. Never have to shave my pits or legs ever again either,” Bramley smiled.

Bramley softly tugged the wisps of crinkled pubic hair capping Ann’s crotch. She sucked a kiss from Ann’s mouth as she eased Ann onto the mattress.

“I’ll do your pits and your legs, but you are never ever allowed to do anything with this,” Bramley ordered, again tugging Ann’s pubic hair.

Ann was about to retort; it was her pubic hair, Bramley had no right to tell her what she could and could not do. But Bramley pushed Ann to fully recline on the bed, mouth firmly over Ann’s mouth.

When Bramley bent her head and began gnawing on Ann’s left nipple, Ann forgot what she’d intended to say.

“Aught! I, oh, oh God!” Ann yelped as Bramley bit down forcefully on Ann’s nipple.

“Love, love, love you,” Bramley crooned, kissing Ann’s gasping mouth again and again.

“Love… you… too,” Ann managed to wheeze out as Bramely began to suck forcefully on Ann’s other nipple.

Somehow the two women wound up in a side by side sixty nine position. Looking at Bramley’s hairless mound, Ann marveled at the simplistic beauty of the plump mound. The golden brown tone of her skin, the perfect symmetry of the two halves, bisected by the thin furrow.

The fragrance wafting from the tight slit was heady indeed; a mixture of musk and of salt. Then, opening the tight slit, finding the coral pink inner lips beginning to plump up, slick and wet with Bramley’s essences… Ann thrust her tongue into Bramley’s depths, seeking the source of the delicious nectar.

“Oh! Oh Ann!” Bramley moaned, pausing in her own ministrations to Ann’s pussy.

“Mm hmm,” Ann agreed, seeking out Bramley’s clitoris.

“Oh, oh yes,” Bramley hissed as Ann continued pleasuring her.

Ann could feel Bramley’s fingers and tongue at her overheated pussy. She tried to force herself to concentrate solely on pleasuring Bramley but soon Bramley’s insistent tongue made that task impossible.

“Oh, oh yyeess!” Ann keened, trapping Bramley’s head with her thighs.

“Oh! Oh Ann, oh yyeess!” Bramley echoed a moment later.

Waking in one another’s arms, the two women smiled and kissed softly. Opening her mouth, Ann softly sucked Bramley’s tongue. Releasing her tongue, Ann stared into Bramley’s dark eyes, then leaned forward and playfully rubbed their noses together.

“Goof!” Bramley giggled.

Pulling her sleep shirt on, Ann tried to find room for her pillow. Finally, she and Bramely reached a compromise of sorts; Haralson’s pillows wound up on the floor.

In the morning, Ann found that she and Bramley were sharing the same pillow; Bramley spooned up right behind her. Her sleep shirt was bunched up around her torso; Bramley’s hand was on her right breast as they slept.

“It is official; I love you,” Bramley announced as Ann wiggled free, the urge to urinate overwhelming.

“I love you too,” Ann smiled as she scampered to the bathroom.

“Okay, I do not cook,” Bramley announced as Ann came out of the bathroom.

“Well, I’m not much of a cook, but…” Ann admitted.

“So, there’s this itty bitty diner just down the street,” Bramley said. “Let’s go there then we’ll see what to do.”

The Full Moon Diner had been at this location for as long as most people could remember. All around it, businesses came and went, but the simple diner remained.

“Sit anywhere; y’all want coffee?” an old waitress called out, putting a plate of eggs, bacon, grits and whole wheat toast in front of a grizzled old man.

“Yes ma’am,” both Bramley and Ann agreed.

“Ma’am, this Italian omelet?” Bramley asked as she studied the weathered menu.

“That’s a good one,” the waitress agreed. “Uses pepperoni, sausage, mozzarella cheese and that marinara sauce.”

“This French toast sandwich; that just sounds too good,” Ann said.

“Want sausage or bacon? We use that link sausage for that,” the waitress asked.

“Mm, sausage,” Ann agreed.

“Now, honey, I know you thinking you just going pick it up like a sandwich but you do that? You going get maple syrup all over the place,” the waitress cautioned as she put the plate down in front of Ann. “Need use your fork.”

Bramley just had to try Ann’s sandwich and Ann had to try Bramley’s omelet. The waitress refilled their coffee cups and asked how their food was, eyes scanning the diner the entire time to see if anyone needed anything.

After their breakfast, there was a mild argument about where to go, what to do. Finally they both agreed to go back to Bramley’s apartment to make love again.

“You like Indian food?” Bramley asked as they walked along Oak Lane, hand in hand.

“I, I’ve never had it,” Ann said. “Where would we even get that?”

“There’s that Bombay Café right there, right by the hospital,” Bramley said, pulling Ann toward the apartment complex.

“Me what?” Bramley asked, cutting through the rear of the complex.

“You like Indian food?” Ann asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had it,” Bramley admitted. “I say to Haralson I want to try it and he looks it up and makes it and all I want to do is just try it, just see what it’s like and…”

“I promise you this,” Ann said, hugging Bramley. “Anything you want to try, well, as long as it’s not dangerous or nothing? We will try. WE. We will try it together.”

“See? I love you,” Bramley smiled, dragging Ann to the apartment quickly.

The couch was a comfortable place to make love. The bed was a comfortable place to nap after making love on the couch. After rousing, Bramley grabbed another outfit and followed Ann to Ann’s apartment.

They showered together, emptying Ann’s hot water tank. Dressing together also took far too long; they kept stopping so that they could kiss, or simply hug.

“Bramley, I’m starving,” Ann finally demanded, turning her back on Bramley. “Come on. Get dressed.”

“You’re no fun,” Bramley accused, but did finish dressing and applying her makeup.

The food was amazing; with their waiter’s help they managed to order a meal that woke their taste buds. During the meal, Bramley excused herself after taking a hefty bite of Ann’s chicken tiki. Ann watched Bramley having a conversation with the waiter, plenty of hand gestures between the two of them.

A few minutes later, Bramley reappeared and took another large bite of Ann’s meal. Ann steeled herself and tried Bramley’s lamb dish, even though she was sure she would absolutely hate lamb. She took another bite, moaning in delight.

“Why not just switch plates?” the waiter smiled, refilling their glasses of mango tea.

“Because this is more fun,” Bramley smiled, linking fingers with Ann.

“Hmm? Why, why yes it is, silly me,” the man smiled widely.

Stepping out of the restaurant into the mid-afternoon summer heat, they heard the splatter and sizzle of the first raindrops hitting the sun baked sidewalk just past the awning of the restaurant. With a delighted squeal, Ann pulled Bramley out onto the small courtyard in front of 2 Alliance Square. Over Bramley’s squeals and protests, Ann pulled Bramely through an impromptu waltz.

Typical of most rainstorms in this area of Texas, the rainstorm was over mere minutes after it had begun. With delighted giggles, Bramley and Ann scampered to the parking garage to begin the frantic search for Bramley’s car.

That evening, over Bramley’s protests, they stayed at home and finished the vegetable beef soup. They also made some instant chocolate pudding and fed each other the gooey sweet treat. Then, after several soft kisses, they went to bed.

“I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to sleep any other way,” Bramley announced in the morning. “That diner’s open.”

Monday night, knowing that Haralson would be back the following afternoon, unless he was called to another rig, Bramley insisted they go to Tokyo Gardens. Ann enthusiastically agreed; she’d always wanted to try the place.

“It’s kind of dressy,” Bramley warned.

“That sundress? I mean, I have other stuff, but…” Ann said.

The cook delighted both girls with his silly patter and his knife skills. The food was superb and as usual, they insisted on sharing from each other’s plates. Ann was unconcerned if they might be garnering looks from any patrons; she was on a date with a friend.

That thought brought her up short. In the past, Ann MacIntosh had fretted, had worried deeply about what others thought of her, how others might perceive her.

“Looking into those eyes? I don’t care about anyone else,” Ann said out loud.

“I know,” Bramley agreed. “I feel the same way.”

“What time do you get off work Wednesday?” Bramley asked as they settled down in Bramley’s large bed that evening.

“Wednesday? Same as any other day; I get out at about five, five thirty,” Ann shrugged, wiggling back to put her compact buttocks against Bramley’s warm crotch.

“Okay, well, let’s see. You know where the White Building is? Off Judge Roberts?” Bramley asked.

“That… Yeah. Why’s it called the White Building? I mean, it should be called the Black Building,” Ann agreed, thinking of the tall black glass building.

“Billings White designed and built it; his architecture firm takes up the top three floors,” Bramley said.

“Oh,” Ann said, wondering how Bramley seemed to know that.

“Anyway, when Mr. Tannenbaum died, Grandmother didn’t like his associate so she contacted Elizabeth Dumont and switched our accounts over to her,” Bramley informed Ann.

“Okay,” Ann said, twisting to look at Bramley over her shoulder.

The room was dark, but Ann could just make out Bramley’s dark shape. She thought she could see Bramley’s left eye glittering in the semi-blackness.

“I, I’ve been, I mean, I’m going over all these really elaborate and fancy ways to do this,” Bramley whispered, softly kissing Ann’s shoulder. “But really? I, I think this is the best way. You’re here in my arms. You’re nice and snuggled down, right where you belong and…”

Ann felt Bramley reach over her to the small nightstand. Bramley must have located what she was looking for; a moment later she snuggled against Ann’s back again.

“Ann? Ann MacIntosh; by the way, what’s your middle name?” Bramley asked.

“Don’t laugh. It’s my mother’s maiden name,” Ann warned.

“Why would I laugh?” Bramley asked.

“It’s Stevens. Ann Stevens MacIntosh,” Ann said.

“Okay. So, what’s so funny about that?” Bramley asked.

“Stevens? A guy’s name?” Ann said.

“Okay,” Bramley said, kissing Ann’s shoulder again. “So, Ann Stevie Mac…”

“See?” Ann squealed. “It’s not ‘Steve’ or Stevie!’ It’s just Stevens, you butt hole.”

“Settle down,” Bramley laughed, kissing Ann’s shoulder again. “Ann Stevens MacIntosh, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Ann agreed.

“I am in love with you,” Bramley whispered into Ann’s ear.

“I…” Ann started to say.

“Ann Stevens MacIntosh, will you marry me?” Bramley asked, placing a small velvet box against Ann’s chest.

“I, will I what?” Ann asked, jerking to sit up in the bed.

“It’s a simple question. Will you marry me? It requires a simple ‘yes’ or ‘yes’ answer,” Bramley said, sitting up next to Ann.

“I, marry? Marry you? What? Bramley, I, I’m not gay,” Ann sputtered.

“Jesus, who said, who said anything about being gay?” Bramley huffed. “I love you, you love me. If we get married, it solves a lot of my problems.”

“But, but, married? To each other?” Ann spluttered, feeling lightheaded.

“Please, please, just think about it?” Bramley begged, hugging Ann tightly.

After Ann agreed to think of it, seriously consider Bramley’s proposal, Ann and Bramley settled down again. Ann felt the ring box roll slightly and come to rest against her belly.

“Is it a nice ring?” Ann asked in the darkness.

“It’s rose gold. I, I fell in love with someone’s flaming red hair,” Bramley admitted, gently tugging Ann’s red hair.

Ann’s job started at eight; Bramley’s job did not start until eight thirty. Bramley gently teased Ann for making them get up so early. Ann silenced her with a kiss.

Upon waking, Ann did look at the rose gold ring with the one carat square cut diamond. ‘Elegant’ was the term Ann thought of as she looked at the simple band and simple diamond. As they ate Lucky Charms cereal, Ann again looked at the ring. Just before grabbing her purse, Ann again looked at the ring. She then gave Bramley a soft kiss and quick hug.

“Girl, what is wrong with you?” Ann’s coworker giggled as Ann seemed to be miles away.

“God, I, I just got a lot on my mind,” Ann admitted, smiling in embarrassment.

“Is he cute?” the coworker whispered, dark eyes alive with excitement.

“Now, how you know it’s all about that?” Ann laughed.

“Whenever I’m all up in my own stuff? It’s about a cute guy,” the girl admitted.

“I don’t know that ‘cute’ is the right word,” Ann said. “Hmm. Maybe gorgeous?”

At lunch Ann called her step-mother. After assuring Paula that she was fine, she was okay, yes, she was eating, and Ann checked that no one was paying any attention to her.

“Paula, listen, I, can I come over? Tonight?” Ann asked. “See, I, I need to talk to you.”

“You’re pregnant,” Paula immediately said.

“I am not!” Ann denied.

“Wait, can you, can you get pregnant from anal sex?” Ann wondered as she agreed to come over for Paula’s chicken and gravy, but only if Paula would serve it with rice, not her signature lumpy mashed potatoes.