Inside, her chromosomes have that rebellious nature passed down by every female Gilmore, that one inherited line of genetic code that made Lorelai follow her impulses instead of what society accepted as proper. The one that guided her towards Christopher, and in turn, gave me my girlfriend. I still remember way back, when I wasn't close to knowing Rory, hearing the tales of scandal at the society parties Mother threw at the Manor, watching Emily and Richard react violently to any mention of their daughter in proper circles and her life as it was. I was just an observer, a stupid kid in a pretty pink dress, supposed to be more concerned with a My Little Pony collection than the adults.
As I looked at her, I could swear that I could feel what Christopher Hayden did the moment he realized he wanted Lorelai, wherever they did it (trust me, I'm not gonna ask), and when she also realized those sparks were shared. The pure lust and want within the both of us, what they had in '83. That Rory could be just as devious as her mother was to get what she wanted. The very nature of a Gilmore, be they in insurance, inn management, or the twelfth grade.
I couldn't deny myself anymore. I wanted to make her come by my hand, and it would be imprinted on her mind, forever.
My eyes were intense, burning a stare into her as I scanned her tall frame. To get me all riled up like I was, she had serious ovaries to do so.
I trusted that she knew what she was doing though and she had no fear apparent.
"I want you, now." I said firmly to her, the anticipation within her nigh. My fingers deep within her quim, I watched her face as I pulled them out for the drive to push all the way through.
Her eyes were on me as she gave me the last word.
"Please!" Her legs opened up, she relaxed her body, and with that, we were both gone. Hoping I wouldn't hurt her, I turned off my mind and let it take leave temporarily so I could enjoy this.
I laid against her lengthwise, moving my free hand down to the small of her back to support her. My fingers were straight as I forced them in with a swift movement, watching for her reaction to know if I did something wrong. But there was no reaction to start out with, Rory closing her eyes beforehand as if she thought there was pain to overcome.
There was none, however; she easily accommodated me, and beyond a bit of a pulling apart of the membrane against my force, she didn't feel anything but pleasure.
"Ooohhhh..." She pushed against the door, the feeling going through her as I pulled in and out, trying to get her used to it. "Yess..."
"How deep have you gone before?" I asked inquisitively.
"Not quite...that deep." I pushed in a bit more. "Aaaahhhh. Oh my!"
I speeded my strokes even more after that, trying to force the fingers in enough. She accommodated me, letting me rub her clit with my thumb as I attempted to double the pleasure. She tried to force her eyes open to watch me, but it was hard as she took in the feelings overwhelming her so much. Winding her up through a whole morning, she wasn't going to stretch it out any longer than she had to. The slickness of her arousal coated my hand, dripping a bit down towards my wrist. I pushed against her, focusing on just her, until eventually her legs had wrapped around me and she had me ensconced in her grasp. Eventually she began to tighten around my hand, opening herself more to me as I slid in and out.
My hair splayed out against her bust as we developed a sort of rocking up-and-down fast rhythm, with occasional stops to settle herself down and reposition herself because of the sticky leather beneath her. I encouraged her to scream and yell however she wanted, but she kept herself relatively calm. I kissed her in those settling times to assure that she was doing fine.
"You're OK, just keep it going, come on, you'll get there. God, Gilmore, you're so tight." My voice bounced as I tried to keep my own self in control. The problem with the cramped quarters of the car was that I was right against her thigh, and well, guess where it rubbed? I had to keep myself above a few inches to keep my focus on her.
"Paris...Paris..." She was looking so ruined, the skirt sitting on her waist wrinkled beyond belief, hair sticking along her shoulder. I kept my thumb against her clit, making small circles in both clockwise and counterclockwise, hoping to make her feel something so hard she saw stars. I kept pushing in and out, a constant rhythm only interrupted when I wiped my fingers along her thigh when I didn't seem to have any friction, but right back again.
Trying to stay out of her way, I tried to keep myself as high as I could intimately so I wasn't rubbing against her. I didn't want her moment to be ruined by me so distracted. For some reason I still felt some guilt for coming during the phone call with her. I wanted it to be her moment.
"Baby, push against me," she begged, but I shook my head in denial. "You can...multi-task."
"I said no," I growled. "Your first time is yours, not mine." I pushed in a bit more, intending it as a distracting move. She gutturally screamed my name, in combination with the f-word. Throwing her head back, she bumped it against the sill of the car door, but still she went on, asking me to speed up even more for her.
"Please...please, I wanna cum for you." Her voice was veiled by heaving breathing. She pushed herself up a bit more to meet my pussy, but I pushed her down again to the seat. "Come on, Par, please?"
I kissed her along her jaw, trying to reassure her that I wasn't looking for reciprocation. "No, Gilmore."
"But I--"
"NO!" I pushed in for a large, deep stroke, hoping to distract her. She cringed in her position, and eventually she let the matter lie so I could continue to spoil her.
Truly, the feel of her was like silk as I thrust in and out with her, continuing to push her ever closer. I could feel her pressed breasts bounce up and down against me and the waves began to be more together with each new thrust. I spread her out more, letting my fingers tease her on the inside, both sides. I enjoyed the power I held over her to make her this way, to turn her into nothing more than a melting puddle.
She rode me hard, her teeth biting into my shoulder as I found myself as deep as possible, hitting a sensitive spot. She whined to get off, begging me for release, my thumb massaging her clit, my free hand cupping her ass. She blew my hair from her mouth as it fell from my shoulders, overheated and a deep shade of red. Calling my name, asking for more.
This is what made this morning all worth it, really. To see Rory Gilmore in that state, on the cusp of her first release with my help. I want to keep that image in my mind forever.
"Oooohh...oooohhh...ohhhh yes..."
She was almost getting there, I could feel her clenching against my hand, tightening against it in a vise grip. Hard panting, breasts springing against mine, her skin so hot. I deepened and speeded my thrusts, trying to get her off in a frenzied rush. I had teased her way too long and I wanted to see her ruined from what we did.
"Rory, you're almost there, come on, come on, dear." My voice was panicked and in the back of my mind I was hoping I was doing this right. I was thankful that she hadn't bled, but I knew there was a chance she might not come the first time.
That thought would end up very wrong, and oh so shattered within a space of seconds.
Within another few moments, she had pushed me down against her so her right thigh was flush with my crotch, and hooking her fingers into the waistband of my boyshorts, she began to drive into me, despite my pleas not to. I tried to push away, but to no avail.
"Rory, this really is not about me," I gritted out. "You don't have to do this f--ooooooohhhrrrr me!!"" I closed my eyes as the jarring electricity of my own want went through me. She kept me pushed down, putting finality to the finishing position with her words.
"You're right, I don't have to do this." She grinded against me again, the stretch material of the cotton digging right into my clit. "But I want to." The authority in her voice made me quiver and from there, we were both gone from that point forward. Pushing against me while I drove into her, I was overheating, unknowing previously of how wound up I was in the sex play. I kept pushing in and out, not letting my feelings overwhelm me.
The two of us in that car, I couldn't believe it myself. Panting against her, gritting out her name, I encouraged Rory along, widening my legs out. "Fuck...oh my God...Ror..." I kept stroking her, faster and faster; she was dripping with arousal and her gasps were closer and closer together, eyes even more tightly shut. Still she didn't let that distract from her own goal for me, and after a few strokes out of rhythm, I met her thigh at the seam, while my strokes were getting closer and closer together. We kissed each other passionately, letting our long-hidden sexuality come out of hiding. I just wanted to see that deep glow of hers for myself
"Par, oh baby, come on...bring me home, make me come..."
"Rory...please..."
"You're pounding against me...I'm so fucking wet...ohhh...ohhh..."
"Push it in further...I want to feel the fabric deep...Rory...Rory..."
"Paris, fuck me...oh Christ, I'm almost there..."
Our eyes were both shut tight; we couldn't see each other, but there was still an overload of senses. I could smell her, so raw, her scent mixed with mine. It hung in the air of the luxury car. She nipped at my lip, I bit at hers, tasting the mix of my breakfast pastry with her coffee. I kept my thumb circling her clit, the fingers slipping in and out with ease and our words hung in the air, the connection we were making now forever solidified in our histories. I moved my hand down towards her stomach, sucked in as she anticipated her release. Meanwhile, she kept pushing her leg against me, the crotch of the article dampening with my building cum. I didn't intend to ruin them so fast, but I wasn't going to stop her and tempt fate. The underwear felt so good against me, and I dug in lower against her leg as I felt her convulse. I began to push against her harder, hoping to meet her evenly.
"Is this what you've thought...of?" I spit out. "Making me this way...making you come with me?"
"Yes...oh yes..." She drove her hips against me, trying to push me as deep as I could go. "Fuck...oh God, almost there!"
"I am too," I screamed. "Gilmore, ohh...ohhh...ahhhh..." My hand was clenched hard within her, her walls squeezing tight. She pumped herself against me in short bursts while increasing her friction.
I began to feel disorientated, dizzy, yet I still kept my awareness. She yelped, her face a shade of deep blood red as she began to hit her peak.
That was the last thing I'd see for the next few minutes. Rory drove herself deep against me and it was a rough stroke, driving right against my hard clit. I pulled her against me hard, while I drove my hand in for the final strokes.
We went by touch and scent as we finished off, and to describe what we both went through in simple words, I really can't do it beyond, uhh, wow. I heard her screams as she closed in around me, and as I felt the tingles go all through my body. Both of us taut and straight, we rode out the last waves, together, in each other's arms, kissing wildly, both of us ruined and far gone. I felt her heart pound hard against my chest while her hands grasped at me for dear life; my own grip was so tightened on her I felt like I'd crush her thin body with one hand.
"Yessss!" I rose up, rubbing against her, rubbing her bare leg as my hand slid in and out through her come. My fingers were sore, soaked, slippery as she spilled over. "Gilmore...Gilmore..." I felt all sticky and damp down there, and so hot and warm, sweat dripping from my brow. I listened more to her though, wanting to keep this more her moment than mine. I slowed my stroking down, making ever slower circles with my thumb.
We began to wind down slowly, letting ourselves calm as we came down from our crashing climaxes. My body felt so heavy, suddenly overwhelming against Rory, and I tried to distract myself from thinking I was crushing her. I began to slowly pull out of her, while letting my other free hand rest against her abdomen, her diaphragm tightening and releasing slowly in a slow manner.
I wanted to just touch her, to feel her...have that safety cushion of warmth. It was a reassuring thing for me to know that she was going to be there for me after this morning, that the moment was special to the both of us. Going back in time, I knew that if this moment was shared with Tristan, it would be different, and cold, and that instead of driving him up a wall, he would have forced the moment from me, and it would have ended within seconds, probably with him wanting to go back to Duncan and Bowman.
I shuddered thinking about that and went back to the moment I was sharing with Ror. Finally opening my eyes, I was witness to a beautiful sight, watching her relax, softly gasping as she settled herself back down. The skirt, truly wrinkled around her, her bra in a heap next to her side. Hair wild, face deeply flushed, her body fully exposed, I brought my focus down as I pulled my hand out the rest of the way. She was dripping wet, the small triangle of hair between her sex pocked with a sheen of wetness.
Truly, she was beautiful. But I knew still, it was her first time, and she'd probably be a tinge sore from letting herself go. Immediately after I pulled out, she closed her legs together, cringing.
"Oww..." I felt concern for her, frowning at what she was feeling.
"I...I didn't hurt you, I hope." Immediately, she shook her head that I didn't.
"I'm alright, really." She tried to push herself up as I sidled against her. "Just recovering from it. All just a repetitive motion, up and down, something expected." Hair in front of her face, she brushed it out of the way with her fingertips. "The only thing I feel down there is an odd pang, probably just from stretching, nothing that I'm cringing about." Crossing her legs together, she hissed a bit.
"Are you sure?"
"Paris, thanks for your concern." She smiled. "But really, it's no worse than the first few times after...well, the thing that reared its head during the President's Physical Fitness Test for me and forced me to use that certain item." Rolling her eyes up, she looked towards me. "Another sign that Mother Nature intends for me to hate playing sports forever."
"Please tell me you at least had a dime on you." I flopped down against her, wryly laughing.
"I will owe Andrea Sherman one Tampax to my grave, I'm afraid. Thank God I was wearing dark clothes that day."
"What a story I can tell about the first time we were physical," I off-handed. "You really are just like your mother."
"I resent that! I am not like her!" She looked like she was shocked at first but began to laugh.
"Really, Gilmore, you are. Seriously, talking about your period after you came." I pulled her close, sliding my hands up her sides. "Gilmores are known for trying to misdirect their afterglows."
"Alright, so I'm a bit overwhelmed after...that," she admitted. "I...I just, um...well, you know." Her gaze towards me, she struggled to find the SAT analogy to describe our activity. "Well, I...oh man, come on!"
"What's wrong, Ror?" I questioned, a bit cavalier. "Did I render you speechless?" I slid the damp left hand up towards her face, not willing to wipe it off yet.
"Of course not," she denied, while trying to find words. "I'm good. Happy. You know me, all good and glowy, filled and that kind of thing."
"Those are just 'me statements' of feelings, not a competent view of how you're dealing with my ravishing." I ran my fingers through her hair. "I know you can form complete sentences to describe your feelings."
"Not right now," she admitted. "How am I supposed to put all of this into a sentence? I can't, because this is something I've been thinking about for months, getting so close and intimate with you. Four weeks ago I'm all 'Dean can't get it over the plate,' and now here I am, with you, in the back of your car, and I...I..." She looked up towards the sunroof, feeling pensive and trying to collect her thoughts. "Why is it so different with you?" Her face straightened as everything began to hit her.
"Different?" I tried to dig deeper into the word clue.
"Ever since I met Dean, I had all these chaste thoughts, and we connected through cornstarch, soda and other grocery items. I was getting content with being a regular woman, indebted to her future husband the hockey star while she cooked and cleaned and gave up her dreams. By the time he built the car for me, I felt hopeless and lost that he'd ever see things my way."
I watched her find her words but also an emotional trigger as she began to tear up, realizing exactly what was happening. "I mean he never listened to me, he didn't care. I'd ask him to get hot, he wouldn't. He'd touch me at the wrong time, or in the wrong place. I felt so uncomfortable with him, but yet, I stayed, wanting to be loyal, not wanting to break his heart, to cause pain to anyone." To listen to her describe her desolation about being with a boy she fell out of love with, it saddened me deeply to hear her like this. "I mean when I threw myself at him, basically screamed that I wanted him, he turned me down, coldly, as if I wasn't one to decide when I was ready to lose it. That I had no stake in my sexuality, and I would forever be defined as being born five months before my mother turned seventeen. I can't be this way, I can't be passionate, and that I have to hold in. If I have passion, it has to come out during quiz bowl or in a project of some kind." I pulled myself closer to her, letting myself feel her warmth, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Her cheeks heated; I was enamored with her anger and pain towards her past.
She brought her voice to a whisper as she brought the discussion full circle back towards me. "But with you, it is different. A good kind of different." I stroked her cheek as she went on. "You don't bullshit, you lay everything out on the table, and if I hold back on a topic because I might not want to bring it up, you're on me anyways until I give up, and I can open up to you without anything getting back beyond Miss Patty. I just...there was no second-guessing, and you read me like an open book." Her lip quivered as she slid her left hand into my right. "Honestly? I didn't go into this last night thinking that this was going to be 'the moment,' or anything beyond what went on this morning. I thought it was just going to be fun, another bend in the road. But as it went on, I don't know."
Shaking her head, Rory unexpectedly gave me a window into what went through her head. "When I was in the closet while we both changed, I had a moment to myself, to reflect and think about where I should go next. Coming out of a shower with you and after sharing all that stuff last night, I didn't expect you to open up, to relish your role as my girl. I thought you'd be back in Le Pitbull mode and serious."
She breathed in deeply and pulled me close against her. "I thought so many times this morning I was pushing you too far, giving you the gifts and having you try them on, along with my...enthusiasm to go down on you. I thought you'd want me to stop and focus on school."
Both of us were looking at each other, thinking we would second-guess the morning, that on further reflection, we had lost the spark. Once again, the 'china doll' analogy was in effect, the one she used to describe Dean's regarding her.
But I can't do that with Rory. She's not off-limits; she's a real woman with real needs. Judging from her orgasm, she really needed them filled! I didn't want her to think that way about herself, that she was off-limits and closed off.
"I don't want to," I said, stroking her hair. "I don't want safe, Rory." I slid my left hand across her cheek, until the fingertips I used came to rest against her lips. "I'm not regretting what we did this morning at all. Yes, I'm scared, and I'm definitely still learning how to control my urges and balance them with our friendship. The last few hours definitely built on missing each other, wanting each other, desiring, needing. But in the long run, I know that if we talk every day, no matter how mundane we are, we'll both have pretty clean bedposts to hang our bras off from." I bent down, kissing her cheek as she suckled lightly at my fingertips. "I admit, what you said about me being dull and conservative, it did piss me off. It got me mad. But that's it, because the way I have been, it's true. I held back because I never had an outlet before you, and I fear you might run away from me." She licked the glistening liquid from the tips, tasting herself, mixed with my salty flesh. It was wonderful to behold, that she was coming down with her own scent upon my fingers. "You know how happy I felt when you told me we could skip school?" She nodded. "I enjoyed the rush, loved to see you indulge me in my naughtiness."
"Par," she purred, "you definitely do naughty the best." I settled down against her, finally feeling my body settle down, and moved my hands back down towards her sides. "I would have never expected this to happen this morning, but..." A small, deep kiss. "When I look back on this morning years and years from now, I can say that my first time certainly wasn't boring."
"Was it bad?" I asked honestly. "Lay it on me, I can take it."
"Oh, no, of course not! Did you really think that?"
"I just wanted to make sure," I cleared up.
"Let me put it this way for you in simple terms." She then wrapped her arms around my neck and brought me very close. "Before last night, I may have wanted to have sex with a guy one day. But what you did?" She stopped for a dramatic pause. "You made me yours. I can't imagine anyone else with me. I mean, I'll be honest, I had fears of the first time, of being broken. I'd dream about Dean and wake up in a frozen sweat and go back to bed with a pillow between my legs. I had bad advice, Lane telling me I shouldn't do anything, and Lorelai? Forget it!" There she was, crying once again, as she let me rest in the crook of her shoulder. "You took me here to this beautiful pond. Then let me go at my own pace, and eased into me slowly. You encouraged me, was playful when I wanted you to be, indulged me, and you even gave into my want that you should share my moment with me, it was just..just..."
She struggled to put our time into words, crying against my bare shoulder, speechless as to how her first time had turned out. She wrapped against me and all I could do was hug her back, soothe her further. Let her know that she was right to feel the way she did.
"It's OK, dear, let it out. It's OK, thank you, Rory." I straightened her hair with my fingers, then let them play down her back, along her spine, just letting her go on and on. She was beautiful against me, her heartbeat in time with my own, her warm body heat against me. I just stayed that way, assuring her that we both did things right, that there was no rhyme or reason, no plan to how we ended up together. Sex would change things between us, to be sure, but our friendship was building up within the relationship to insulate any fears that it could tear us apart. We needed each other, two halves to a whole. Soft whispers, inside references, hushed words of want towards each other.
I could just imagine what were to happen if the roles we took this morning were to be switched. God, to have her against the sink in her kitchen, or in her room. I felt prickles across my body just thinking about that!
Soon though, I realized that time was probably flying by. Looking towards the console in the front as the both of us got up, stiff and worn out, I expected that not much time had passed.
Well, it was, to use one word, late. Late as in, twenty minutes had already passed in second period, and time flew by longer than expected for the both of us.
"Wow, we just matched Louise's stamina," I joked. "Usually she's all about the ten and out, but damn."
Rory rolled her eyes at me and shook her head. "Hey, that was all your doing!"
"All my doing, Rory Cum-more?" Oh, had I finally found a nickname for her. She looked at me, shocked. "What, it's true! You're like a regular sexual Old Faithful!"
"I do not!"
"Face it, dear, you are blessed with the slickest vagina in all of Chilton and you've just given it all to me!" I squealed as she pelted me with her bra before she put it back on. "OK, so you don't like that first name, how about...Jelly Belly?"
"Oh, my God!" She shook her head. "No, uh-uh, not going to happen, Par-Bear."
"What, you have no need for the KY at all, it's all you!"
"I am not listening to this." She covered her ears and slid on her bra. "Great, I lubricate like I have a Vaseline pump up my hoo-hah."
Great, now I was the one crying...from laughter! The way she throws those lines at me, she makes even the most dull one-liner seem like it came from Ruth Buzzi. "You can throw it on your resume...Hello, I'm Rory Gilmore, and I bring excellent writing skills to your paper, along with a pussy rated at 10W30!" I felt myself convulse from laughter as I looked at her, giving me 'the look.' Blowing up in her hair, she then turned on her smile and put me in the corner.
"Miss Gellar, may I point out that where you grinded against me, there is a 5x2" patch of dark plum wetness?" She brought her eyes down towards my crotch, unnoticed until that moment by me because I was more concerned with her than myself.
Uhh, yeah, look who's talking now. I was embarrassed by my own appraisal of her arousal when I wasn't exactly a dry tap myself. I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth and shook my head.
"Fine, we're both bad," I admitted. "But I still stand by my assertion that you get wetter than I do."
"Another item in the blackmail grab bag, I guess. You have the tattoo, I get really damp." Both of us were flustered and happy as I grabbed towards my blouse on the steering wheel and put my camisole back on, and we tried to talk through how we were going to come up with the perfect excuse as to why we missed a 1/4 day of class. We started with oversleeping (ruled out because of our well-known punctuality), turned towards a sudden detour (works maybe in October, but not after construction season's end), and of course, the old 'we didn't know Monday wasn't an off day' chestnut (yeah, sure, we know it's been a day back in every Connecticut school for fourteen years).
"You had to change a tire," Rory finally came up with as she wrapped her blouse around her, buttoning it in the middle. "Um, you do, right?"
"Why wait for AAA when the tools are at your disposal? I helped my Daddy out with one on a trip up to Halifax once, and it came naturally." I added on further to the excuse. "Only, let's not say the tire was slashed. My on-screen navigation does have a air pressure monitor on it, so, we go over a small stone, one I didn't notice Tuesday afternoon. Once we got out into the traffic jam of doom, we sat and sat, the tire let out just enough air to alert us to a problem, and I pulled off at Cromwell to add tire inflator gel to seal it up until I can get to the mechanic."
"It's great, very good idea," she agreed, smiling brightly, but shaking her head. "We are very, very smart, the both of us."
"We are." We were both sitting in the backseat at that point, hand in hand. "Almost."
"Why do you say that?"
"Next time we skip school to neck, I'm bringing Saran Wrap and a change of underwear for you." Laughing, I was suddenly enveloped by an ired girl.
"Paris?" She looked at me firmly.
"Mm-hmm."
"If this gets back to Lorelai, I'm asking Fran for baby pictures. Embarrassing pictures. Of you naked in the bath playing with a rubber duckie and bubbles, or pretending you're Rainbow Brite with a Sprite doll. We will mock you, and mock you often."
"Great, the 80's are coming back to haunt me!" I slapped my head and rolled my eyes at her, but still smiled. "Have I told you how much I hate Louise for telling you what I watched when I was younger?"
"Better Rainbow Brite than Barbie dolls, at least she had the whole proto-feminism thing going for her."
"She's like the Joan of Arc of 80's cartoons, though without being burned at the stake." The both of us just went on talking after that, in the backseat of the Jag as we dressed, and as we enjoyed the afterglow of the morning, I definitely knew that I had no regrets about where everything led up to since last night around 7:30.
* * * * *
I'm thinking about everything that's ensued within the last few hours, next to Rory, as we pull into my parking space, the clock reading 9:49am. Our clothes are straight, uniforms fully on, and hair brushed as well as we could with the one we had to share together. Both of us are visibly nervous, and as I turn off the engine, the adrenaline rush I had from skipping the first two classes has worn off.
I'm screwed. My average is going to dip below 97.5, and oh dear God, I've skipped a class. No, plural that; classes! Somehow an image in my mind is building of Charleston hauling us both by the ear into his office and giving us the fourth degree. Yeah, I said fourth, the kind that burns bones. Oh God, oh God, oh God...
"Par?" I'm imagining the guy in my face telling me I've just gone Slutty Sandy on him and I'll be lucky to get into the Fox Institute of Business to pursue a major in massage therapy...
"Uh, hon? I didn't know that shade of white was ever possible." I'm stunned in place with Rory's hand on top of mine. "I promise you, being late isn't the end of the world."
"But...but, what if he's mean?" Yeah, good job there, Gellar, sound weak. "It was all worth it, but they hate tardiness."
"We came in though, that's all that should matter." She held my shaky hand tightly. "Look, we're going to be fine. They'll probably make a quick joke about us finally being late and sending us on the way down to the gymnasium, where we can shower and smell all non-sexy again."
"But it might get around that I'm late. I'm the iron woman of the school, I have never missed a class, ever!"
"Sheila Drake has missed three classes though, so you're still on top of her." She then reminds me that I shouldn't doubt what I did. "Let's repeat it again, this morning was worth it. We both enjoyed it. I'm going to walk around all funny all day because of you and the pleasant hum between my legs, and you're going to get heartened every time you see me today."
"I know," I said, beginning to calm down and open the door. "But...will you still touch me in RN? You may have already gotten your fill of me this morning."
Suddenly, she pulls at my arm and brings me back into the car. "Baby..." she lowers her voice and slides her fingers up my wrist. "I can never get enough of you, there's no doubt about that. I will touch and massage you like I usually do. Though I might do something different at lunch, I have to study. I might just do a granola bar in the library while I look over my materials for international journalism."
"Oh, well I understand," I say, a bit disappointed. "I can't have you all the time."
"Actually," she purrs, "I might need a little help..." Uh, her hand is sliding up my thigh again. "I'll need the privacy of a quiet study room, with the shade drawn to block out distractions. Since you know much more about international affairs in Dubai and media policies in the Emirates, seeing as you've been there, I could use your...expertise." Oh my, I'm losing my breath and I'm really beginning to hate this damned tie around my neck. Brain, help me out here, please? I'm begging you!
"I'll help you, but we can't, do stuff, you know?" OK, there, she'll settle down now, really, honest.
"Paris, we agreed not to kiss in Chilton, which is all we did. I remember what you said exactly, nothing blown, nothing implied, just no kissing." Stop, oh God, why does her voice have to be so fucking hot and wanting when she's flirting with me heavily? "I never heard anything from either of us that we couldn't tease and touch, or slip out of our shoes, stroke each of our ankles with our toes, or slide a hand, or a foot, up our skirts." She pouted her lips out towards me. "We should have thought this through more long term, probably."
"Can I add it now?" I whined.
"Unfortunately, you're currently blinded by the thought of me all soapy and wet in the shower, so we'll have to wait until Franklin time to rehash details." My face warmed as I tried to stop her.
"Please stop flaunting that you topped me in that contract law unit last semester, Gilmore!" I pull her hand away, but as I exit the car, she one-ups me one last time.
"Let me cite the ruling of Turnabout v. Fair Play then; I must return the favor to you, Par. So, you're pretty much doomed." Stepping out of the car, she has a smirk all the way towards me, and then I follow her, lovesick as she walks into Ambrose while my shaky legs follow her forward.
"Who's the Dark Mistress now?" I mumble under my breath, trying to calm my heartbeat. She turns back around towards me.
"What did you say?"
"Oh, nothing." I play off as innocent, trying to get back on focus. We take the hall towards the office, and as we look up at the door tag, I feel so strange being at the attendance office without a doctor's appointment taking me away. We both walk in together, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as we watch Ms. James feeding attendance Scantron sheets into a scanner.
I wonder if it'll break when it sees Gellar, Paris with the "M" circle filled in next to it to indicate my absence. Thinking about that, I walk in, trying to make sure that my messenger bag was secure. Rory and I exchanged looks, and tried to get our story straight.
"Hello, can I help you, ladies?" Ms. James greets, taking her reading glasses off from her nose and letting them hang from their leash around her neck.
I cleared my throat, hoping that the words I said next didn't burn my tongue. "We're both, um, late." I laugh nervously. "It was the traffic and a--"
She lifted a clipboard from the shelf below the counter and slid it towards us. "Sign here, then, no need for a reason. We've kept an ear to the news this morning and the Headmaster understands."
"But we--" Rory tried to further our excuse, but I think Miss James had critical envelope moistening ahead of her.
"Ladies, you were late, it happens. You came in and that's all that's important, now sign the sheet."
Hey, if we didn't have to state an excuse, I wasn't going to argue with anyone about it. I scribbled my signature down quickly, then passed the clipboard on to Rory for her own hallmark. Within moments, the sign-in sheet was back in Ms. James's custody, and she was writing up yellow passes for us.
"Next class?"
"Gym, for both of us," Rory says. The older woman quickly wrote down the needed information, and handed the slips to both of us. "I'll let Mrs. Ryerson know you came in a bit early then if that's OK."
"That's fine." I smiled as the uneasiness disappeared and Rory felt her own worry disappear. "Thank you." We move towards the other side of the room after Ms. James acknowledged our thanks, as I prepared for a locker stop and quick run-by of Mr. Silvestri so I could get the homework. Rory stopped me before I left, sliding her hand softly into mine.
"I'll see you in class; thanks for getting the work for me." She smiles towards me one last time and runs her hand through her hair.
"No problem. Thanks Rory." I say the last portion of the sentence a little bit dreamily, which is only noticed by her as she opens the door and books it towards the athletic wing, the other way completely from me. I watch her depart from the office, already feeling over the moon about everything that's happened between us, the closeness we share. How we're both so kindred that missing her hurts me in so many ways.
I hesitate to think that this was the perfect moment for us, with little interference from anyone beyond my mother for a minute. We were both just ourselves, and as we open up more, we become inseparable. I can't picture meeting her at the Formal Saturday night at the Armory and ignoring her or just being friendly, and I just want to come out and scream that we're a couple.
But we're not ready yet; we still have so much to build on. Before we can go public, we have to make sure we can get along in private. I don't want conflict between us, and I'm willing to work with her to be less intense, more open for her. I hold so much in, I know this, and even now, she's only drawn out a few things from me that I'm shy about sharing. Doubts are part of my mindset and I think they always will be. No matter what she tells me, I always think I'm not beautiful enough, or able to meet her head-on. And there's always the fear I'll drive her away with a sudden tantrum. I may work with so many issues with Birnbaum, but I'm flawed, and I'm sure she is too. You don't get off scot-free just having your mother full-time in your life, depending on a diner owner more as a father figure than your own washout dad, or living eleven years in odd housing.
She's turned out more complex than I ever thought she was. From the problems at Stars Hollow schools, to her fractured relationships with relatives, and her own doubts as to how attractive she was to someone else, I need to be there for Rory. After next year, Lorelai isn't going to be there as much for her, and like my friendship with Louise, I can see her drifting from Lane more. I can be her lover, but I also need to make her feel as if she has a right to confide in me, to know that I keep everything she tells me confidential. I hope to be that to her, but first, we need to solidify things further than we did this weekend. Though it was very sexual and fulfilling, I know a relationship based on only sex is bound to fail. But I know we can do it.
This has been the perfect morning, I thought to myself. I didn't mess anything up, at all! Smiling, I lifted up my bag to head for the girls' locker room...
"Ahem."
Why is Ms. James clearing her throat? That's weird. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I turn around to face her.
"Look, really, we got into the--" I felt as if she was about to question my reason for tardiness.
"Miss Gellar, although I'm sure you're proud of your violet-pantied bum, the instructors and other students might not be."
"I'm wearing the skirt," I argue, "How did you know the color of--"
I slide my hand along the back of my skirt to be met with stretch cotton instead of the rough skirt fabric. On the left side, the hem of the back my skirt is tucked into the waistband of the boyshorts. Cue nervous laughter and utter mortification, along with another of my many 'moments.'
"Oh, sorry." I yank out the skirt and straighten it along my ass, hopeful that Ms. James thought it was induced from a three-hour sit in the car, not sexual. But her face is neutral, and she just stares at me blankly as I began to gather myself back together and get to gym class. I open the door and begin to walk towards the athletic wing, with my modesty thankfully intact.
So it wasn't all perfect this morning. It doesn't take away from anything we did, and thankfully no one saw me with a tucked-in skirt.
Then again, Rory did help me slide back into the skirt while we dressed in the backseat.
Wow, I just got gamed by Rory Gilmore. Never thought I'd see the day she'd get me. No wonder she booked it to the gym with all due speed!
Looks like I have to find a way to get in a little clothes-tampering of my own the next few days. Or this afternoon before we come out of the library. Do I want to show off her cute orange polka-dotted ass?
Maybe, or I could always 'accidentally' yank a button down the middle of her blouse, leaving me open to blatant eyeing her up in life sciences. Oh, I think I can get her in gym class too, since I hold Madeline's combo for safekeeping. Wonder how she'd like trying to get into gym shorts two sizes smaller than usual?
As I walk down the hall on my first ever late start, my mind's gears are back to whirring. Once again, I'll be the Dark Mistress, and it won't even hit her...