"Lar, I want everything. 'Cause we've only got this one time."
"Why--oh." Of course. Tinya'd probably given him the okay for a one-time thing, to "get it out of his system," or something similar. Well, I wasn't about to insult her indulgence by refusing. "Special dispensation, right?"
"Yeah."

"Someone Borrowed" by Kerithyn Jade

I'm sitting on the balcony of our seventieth floor hotel room, staring at the lights of Se'Diego. I don't really see any of them. The light I'm aware of is the one building in intensity in the back of my eyes.

Tasmia comes out of the bathroom. "Taaah-dah!" she bugles and waits until I look to do her pirouette. The silver, white and gray scarves and skirts billow as she dances a few steps of a Talokian folk dance. I smile. "It's gorgeous."

My tone stops her in her tracks. "Tinya? What is it?"

"Just thinking of the movie," I sigh.

"It was a great movie. Full of honor and courage and sacrifice."

"Full of romance and passion..."

"And star-crossed lovers!" we finish in unison. "Definitely worth the box of hankies," I finish.

"Yes. And does that man have an ass on him or what?" she says. I blush. "Hey, your turn. Show me your new clothes."

"Show me another outfit, Tasmia. I'm not ready to change clothes."

Suddenly she's behind me, running her fingers across my shoulders and down my back. "No wonder. There are support girders in the hotel that are more flexible than you. Do you want a massage? Or some wine and some of the tort?"

Tasmia loves the glazed fruit torts, filled with some sort of cream. I find Earth deserts too sweet most of the time. But they are pretty to look at, with the array of kiwi, blackberries, strawberries, and apricots. Tasmia loves the colors as well as the tastes.

"Maybe the wine," I say, and turn back to the window.

Tasmia pours a bit of amber liquid into a perfectly round bulb. Then she takes a noisy sip and hands me the bottle. "You need it."

I don't move. She puts the bottle down. "You're not angry at them, are you?"

The question gives me a choice. Tell the truth to a woman who holds personal honor and service so high, and let her realize that I'm a hypocrite; or lie and stay one. "Of course not. How can I be mad at Jo and Mon for taking something I freely gave them?" I force myself to turn and smile. "So what's the next outfit?"

Tasmia's eyes and lips crinkle mischievously. "It's a present for you." She says and hands me a box. I rip the deep blue and purple off and groan when I see the box logo. "The Grell and Sherman collection? Oh no!" I open it, dreading the worst and am well rewarded! "It's my old bell-bottom costume!" I poke my solid fingers through the shirt openings: No transparent fabric here. Then I run my hand under the sinfully satiny material. "Oh my Gods, this thing is more transparent than I am!"

Tasmia's delighted grin turns into a wry smirk. "Exactly. Try it on," she commands and ushers me into the palatial bathroom.

Ten minutes later I'm standing abashedly in front of a woman who's seen me naked--absolutely starkers--and I'm muttering, "This leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination."

"Just think of what it'd look like on me!" The image of her dark blue nipples and night black thatch in the costume sets us laughing again. As the laughter dies down, she glides to my side. "Just think of what Jo will say when he see you in this." She touches my shoulders again. "Still so tense," she whispers. "Take a hot bath, and then flop on the bed, willya?"

I listen, and try to soak for a bit, but I can't get comfortable. After fifteen minutes of fidgeting, I give up, dry myself, and put on the ridiculous parody of my old costume. When I come out, Tasmia's dressed in a crushed velvet version of her Lightle-designed outfit Despite the skin tightness, it looks comfortable.

She pats the bed. "Let's get those knots out." She begins the massage at my fingertips, just slightly gliding her fingers over mine, then gently rubbing the palm of one hand, and then the other. She applies more pressure on more pressure on the lengths of my arms, and begins humming... more like purring actually. I feel the vibration through her as she works on my scalp and neck. My body begins to respond to the 'verb. I feel as she begins a series of hard-then-soft jabs and punches against my shoulders. For a moment I stop worrying about Jo and our future, and just ride the pleasure, and the hum, until Tasmia touches the sides of my breasts.

Pure reflex. I yelp and turn and glare at her. Her eyes are wide-surprised and hurt. "Tinya, the technique works better--"

"No."

"Okay. I'll work around it." She touches my back, hums a little, falters, touches another part of my back, rubs, stops and begins again.

Damn it, I didn't mean to hurt her feelings. I trust her with my life and soul. My body is a different matter, apparently.

But...I hurt her. I just showed her I didn't trust her when I do with all my heart. As she begins pressing against my spine, she starts humming again, totally focussing on "the technique" and making me comfortable for the first time since...

No. Listen to the hum, feel the touch, trust my friend. I force myself to listen, to feel, to trust. I don't flinch as she touches my hips, my buttocks and then begins long, sweeping glides down the backs of my legs. She begins to rub my feet, still humming, and I slip back into the languor as she leaves my feet, goes back to the pits of my knees, then she touches, just barely, the insides of my thighs...

I sigh into my pillow and realize that if she reaches just a few centimeters higher, she'll know that I'm--I want--I can't want--she isn't Jo-- And I burst into tears. Worse, they become great gulping wails. Ican'tIshouldIwantIcan't--

Somehow Tasmia has eased me to rest against her. She strokes my cheeks and back, all the while whisperhumming. "It'll be alright. Ssh,ssh. All will be fine."

Goddessmother, she's had to do this enough with Mon-El, and with me when we thought Jo was dead. She kept handing me hankies to use or shred as I need to. Finally the wails became sobs and then I hiccuped to a stop.

"I'm sor-sorry," I almost sob again as I sit up.

"It's okay," Tasmia says as she gets me a cold cloth and glass of ice water. She then sits besides me, her arm across my back and waits. I don't want to talk to her about this--she'll think it's silly--but I owe her an explanation for the weirdness.

"Y'know, my dad died shortly before I came to Earth. Mom said it was my fault: I killed Daddy because he couldn't take my wild ways. But she killed Daddy. She broke his heart little by little--every time she catted around. I promised--no, I swore-that I would never, ever be in a relationship where one of us would be unfaithful. Now Jo and Mon--" My throat tightens to the point where I can't breathe, let alone speak.

As I expect, my best girlfriend does not understand. "But, Tinya, you gave them this night together!"

"Only because I knew it would happen anyway! At least this way, it's not behind my back!"

"My brave, brave Tinya," she whispers as she strokes my hair. Then her black, black eyes gaze into mine. "The boys live and die by each other's actions. They trust each other completely--body and soul. They want to express their love in something other than battle. And you understand that, enough to fight your own fears. But, Tinya, Jo loves you. He thinks the universe centers on you. He'll never leave you until...you no longer want him."

"But now he wants Mon-El."

"Just to celebrate their lives together. Just as I'd like to with you." She sighs, and brushes away my tears as she tries to kiss me.

I go cold and immaterial at once. Tasmia yelps like I stung her. "Tinya, don't go!" she begs, eyes wide and hands open and up--a universally humanoid reaction. "Love--sex--is a gift among friends to my people, I live and die by your judgement. You're so unhappy right now, so angry and confused. I...just want to make you feel better...a gift to my brave, brave friend. I swear, you don't have to touch me."

She wants me not to just understand, but accept her ways. I almost shout at her that I am proud of my upbringing and she shouldn't ask me to abandon it-- But I am asking her to hold herself to my standards. I do that a lot. Using those standards, I had hurt my friend twice in--what? Ten minutes? I owe her and frankly, I want the non-thought of physical pleasure. If I am thinking of Tas and me, maybe I won't be thinking of Jo and Mon.

"Tasmia, I'm sorry I snapped at you... it's so hard to just... if you're still talking to me, I'd like to have that massage... all of it?"

"Are you sure?"

"...I'm sure." Tasmia doesn't look convinced. "The massage... it works better if I'm naked, right?"

"Ye-esss..."

"I thought so." I also think of how my father will banish me the to Gray Realms in the afterlife; how I will never be able to trust myself again. But I have to do this. I can't live my life without her friendship. And I don't think I can live right now if I keep on thinking. I want to feel intense, joyous, and not think. Tasmia's offering me that. I take her soft, strong, blue hand and hook it into the grid in my blouse. Then I slip out of my costume-literally. Jo loves this trick. Judging from Tasmia's delighted laughter, she likes it too. She tosses my "uniform" to the floor, and I watch my belt baubles bob up and down...just for a moment before I close my eyes to concentrate on what Tasmia was doing.

This time, she concentrates on my torso: neck and shoulders, sliding down the joint to again rub the sides of my breasts. As she slips past them and lingers at my waist and hips, I feel the familiar wetness on my thighs again.

Then she cups her hands on my glutes. As she rubs and caresses them, I feel little sparks of pleasure shoot through my spine.

"Dear God," she whispers against my back. "What a butt! No wonder you always wear clothes to accent it!" She caresses the crease that starts low on the hips and ends... she barely touches that, and then is rubbing my thighs again. I moan in pleasure and anticipation, but she slides her fingers lower, to the pits of my knees, my shins...

"Roll over," she tells me.

At this point, if she asked me to bark like a yappy dog, I would have done it. I didn't quite know what I am expecting, but I am not expecting her to take my feet. She puts some light oil on my feet--smelling of kiwi and melon--I think, and then begins to rub the right one. Suddenly I begin to see the flares that travel up and down my spine--then there were fireworks--starburst patterns of fruit flavored feelings and colors flash through my body and explode behind my clenched eyes. The unexpected sensations catch my breath deep in my throat and I groan in wonder and disbelief. Before the sensations subside, she takes my other foot in her hands and starts the entire show again. This time I scream. She waits until the screams become gasps and pants. Then she purrs, "Did you like that Tinya? Do you want more?"

"Goddessyes" I answer both questions with one breath.

"Do you want to feel almost every way I can bring you over?"

That idea stopped my thinking entirely. I couldn't say the words to confirm my desires, so I whimper.

Tasmia smiles, and softly kisses my lips. She lies next to me, the soft velvet of her costume brushing against my skin as the silkiness of her tongue travels from my lips to jawline to neck to--oooooooh--the valley between my breasts and then cupped one. While she nibbles and licks and kisses my other breast into an aching hardness, her fingers dance to the same rhythm.

I am so caught up in the feeling that I don't realize that Tasmia moves from the mountains of my breasts to the valley between my legs and then slipped her fingers? Her tongue? Both? Into the deepest cave within. Fireworks after fireworks explode in me until I feel the sun has gone nova.

When the light fades, when I finally can open my eyes, Tasmia is holding me. She had wrapped us in the blankets, ever the considerate and silent protector. "Did you enjoy yourself?" she whispers and I grunt--an ugly sound--but Tasmia seems to like the response. "Would you like to go again?"

Again? I barely survived the first time! But I must be doing something, because she smiles again and kisses me, thoroughly. And by the time she finishes kissing and caressing, I am aroused again, but this time I am not going to give up control of my life any longer. So I pull her to me and begin to mimic her kisses and caresses. During that time, I discover that her costume is also missing the invisible panels. Carefully, I plucked off the heavy gold "s" holding the costume together and peel away the velvet. Tasmia helps me undress her, and I start to use the disrobing to go lower on her body.

"There's no reason why we both can't--" she protests, and twists so her legs are at my head, and her head was-oh my!

Now what I know about a woman's body, I know because there have been times when I've been alone and lonely. But I also know that the differences between Tasmia and me went far deeper than skin deep. I have no idea if she even had similar nerve ending placement as I do. That ignorance happily dissolves as she shivers and keens her delight at what I do. Suddenly that shiver becomes a shudder. The fact that I have gotten her to that point is almost as exciting as what she is doing to me with her lips and fingers. I feel my own first aching contraction of orgasm a moment after she feels hers.

I know full well that Tasmia won't let me rest until I can't come any more, and I am determined to keep going on as long as she does. Finally she pulls away from me and moans contentedly.

The rest of the evening we spend eviscerating a spy thriller, eating plums and apricots and drinking the rest of Tasmia's wine. When Tasmia eats fruit, she is almost obscene. I've never seen pits cleaned so thoroughly of the pulp. I fall asleep before she does, still smelling the headiness of the fruits, the wine and the sex. Before dawn, I begin dreaming and inside of me, a voice rumbles, "What are you doing?" I start awake and am half out of bed before I realize where the voice is coming from.

Tasmia has her hand on my arm almost instantly. "What is it?"

I shake my head.

"Night attack?"

I nod.

"Everything will be all right," she assures me softly as she drapes herself around me. "You and Jo will come to a new understanding of yourselves, and you will be stronger for it."

Suddenly I realize that is the gift Tasmia is giving me; the ability to understand and draw strength from the experiences I am having so that I can better understand what I am giving to Jo and Mon. So I can accept rather than resent. For her giving me the chance not to think in my old terms for a bit--until I could indulge in the mutual expression of love--then...

I need to control the moment, to show I accept and understand. But do I? What Tasmia and I am doing...

I lean back into her embrace. With her arms and legs bracing me, I feel safe. Her body betrays no need for us to do more. It is love, not carnality; not possession, but a physical expression of trust in the other person. After hours of see-sawing emotions, I finally understand--mentally and emotionally--what Tasmia is trying to explain. But I want to show her--not tell her.

So I kick off the floor and flip and twist through the bed (Flight rings are wonderful creations). Then I surface, facing Tasmia, and gather her to me. I press one royal blue nipple to my lips.

She gasps in delight as I bite and lick that blue aureole into nut hardness. Then my tongue travels lazily down her breast to the belly and the black velvet bed where there is a perfect little frostberry. Tasmia sighs and lies back to enjoy the moment of perfect bliss I give her. That bliss soon turns to excitement as I nibble on her frostberry, and suck on her juices until she cries out, "Oh, Tinya, take me to the dark." It figures, I see fireworks, and Tasmia is enveloped in darkness. Apparently I get her to "the dark", because she moans and begins shaking. Before she stopped shaking, I slip my fingers into her depths and make her quake again. This time, she cries out some in her language as she clutches the sheets. Finally, she rests.

"Stay here for a minute," I say.

"You think I can move?" she retorts breathlessly, incredulously.

I zip into the bathroom and prepare my surprise. The yellow-pink rays of the new sun softly touch the gilded thistles in the wallpaper and light the room like a fairyland. Soon my time with Tasmia would be a memory.

Tasmia is still lying on the bed when I come to tug on her big toe. "Come on, you're going to love this." I lead her into the bathroom and show her the garden tub full of glistening white bubbles smelling of fresh pears and apples. She stares at it, as if it's another world. "Surely you've been in water before."

"Swimming pools, ocean and water holes, yes, but never a bathing tub."

"Well, now's the time for me to show you something!" I climb into the tub and Tasmia follows my example, smiling in surprise as the carbonation tickles her feet. She sinks against the rim with a contended purr. After a bit, we begin to play: splashing and pinching each other, and washing each other's backs. We both know that this is sensual, not sexual.

Finally I crawl through the tub and pull a thick, soft terry robe on myself and hold out the other so Tasmia could gather it around her.

"Tasmia, there's something I've wanted to do for years, and I'm hoping you'll let me do it."

"What?"

"You have such beautiful, thick hair. Will you let me style it?"

"I'm flattered."

I dry her hair and brush it until it is pure satin. Then I roll it into a loose pony tail. With the apple and cherry blossoms I bought, I make a wreath with white and pink trails falling into the black waterfall over her shoulder.

"Oh, Tinya, I look like a Spring Bride." She is right, especially after she put on her new dress. She is a bride, I think to myself, a bride I'm giving back to Mon-El. As I finish checking my make-up program, I ask, "What was that poem you were saying last night?"

"Oh? That? Let's see...

I am a warrior and a mortal.
I know I must die.
If death takes me into the light
Let me remember this moment with my dearest friend
So that I may season
The endless days with the taste of this one moment.

Ready to go?"

I nod. What else can I do? Tell her I'm not sure that Jo could ever just come back to me?

By the time we come out of the hotel's antigrav tubes, the boys were already downstairs and being served at the terrace restaurant where we agreed to meet. The robot finishes serving the food and hums away, disinterested in its celebrity guests.

Tasmia comes up behind Mon-El, wraps her arms around his shoulders and kisses the top of his head. The look of perfect love and trust that passes between them is something to envy, especially since Jo and I can't look at each other. Mon ordered Tasmia a fruit tray, and on it are sliced kiwis, berries, apples and pears. Tasmia pulls a kiwi slice from the plate and lays it wafer-flat on her tongue. The seed pattern remind me of the fireworks I experienced last night.

I slide into the chair besides Jo and murmur a good morning. He mumbles something similar around his toast.

Tasmia settles into her chair and plucks a strawberry from her tray.

"So," Mon-El begins, "Did everyone have a good night?"

Is he kidding? He was with Jo, and Tasmia's expression...

Jo and I glance at each other, lock gazes, and suddenly begin laughing.