A Change of Plan

Dirty Pictures

 "It really would be best if we slept in our separate houses tonight. I could sleep for weeks after last night and today," Miss Lister said. She slid into the leather chair in her room and leaned her head back.

Miss Walker gazed unabashedly at her pale neck, somehow not quite as tired as she ought to be. Miss Lister caught her looking.

"You've worn me out and you still have the fortitude to look at me like that?" Anne held her hand out to Miss Walker and, when she took it, set Miss Walker on her lap. "Annie, will you be unhappy if we don't spend the night together?"

Miss Walker sighed and relented. "No. I suppose I'm exhausted as well. Promise me you'll call tomorrow? If you don't, I can't guarantee I'll remain happy." She looked wistfully at the bed and its dark blue spread and thought of how Anne slept there every night, how her brow had sweat on the pillow and her hair fallen onto the sheets.

Miss Lister captured her chin and brought her face close, nuzzling Miss Walker's cheek. "I am very fond of you, indeed." She kissed Miss Walker on the lips. "I have something for you, to think of me. Promise me you won't look at it until you're in your room, alone." Anne handed her a small parcel and winked. Miss Walker felt the weight of the paper in her hands and tried to guess what it was. A letter, maybe? Suddenly, she couldn't wait to open it.

Miss Walker began to back out of the room, holding the parcel to her chest. "Tomorrow, you'll call?"

Anne nodded and stood. "You have my word. Sleep tight, Annie."

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Miss Walker's maid, Gabrielle, undressed her and prepared the bed.

"Sleep well, miss," she said. Miss Walker was alone, finally, and dying to know what the package contained. She slipped the ribbon off and carefully unfolded the outer paper. Inside was a stack of postcards that Miss Walker promptly dropped when she saw their contents.

"Oh, my." She picked them up one by one from the floor and studied the pictures engraved on the paper. Doing intimate things herself did not prepare her for the debauchery depicted in each postcard.

One in particular held her attention: two women, completely naked, one with her entire hand inside the other. The woman on her back tipped her head in ecstasy and Miss Walker gasped as she imagined Anne doing that to her. She wasn't sure Anne's firm hand would fit inside, but she sure wanted to try.

Holding the picture in front of her face, Miss Walker let her hair down and sat on the bed. She began moving her hips back and forth, as she had when Anne had touched her. The sensation was fiercely addictive and she put her hand there to deepen the pressure. Still looking at the picture, she began to long for Anne's hands on her body, her tongue in her mouth. She'd never felt so desperate to feel someone else as she did now, and she looked around the room to see what might replace the hand in the picture.

A half-burnt candle caught her eye. It seemed about the size and shape of a man's member, and much thinner than an entire hand. It ought to do.

She leaned against her pillow and brought the candle under her drawers, which she kept on for the draftiness in the room. Besides, it was improper to sleep naked. Someone could walk in on her. Her pleasure had been heightened from a day spent doing naughty things to Miss Lister, and then the pictures. Anne must have known she'd have this reaction. Perhaps she was looking at some herself.

The candle slipped right in and Miss Walker moaned in surprise. It was quite a bit bigger than she'd imagined, but not too big that it caused her pain. She imagined Anne there, slowly pulling it out, pushing it back in again, controlling the rhythm of Miss Walker's ecstasy. Her hand moved as Anne's would have, over her center, up and down. The pulsing of her blood quickened and soon she was oblivious to anything besides the candle, which she took in and out at an escalating rate, and her other hand, moving quickly above it. In a final surge of energy, she groaned and arched her back, pushing the candle all the way in and holding it there.

The shuddering took over and her insides beat rhythmically against the candle. She arched her back again and again, compulsively, until the pulsing slowed and stopped altogether. Miss Walker lay her head against the pillow and breathed hard, mouth open and ripe with renewed blood. She could feel her cheeks on fire, yet she was more relaxed than she'd felt in weeks.

The candle pressed against her insides in a pleasant way, and she left it there as she pulled the covers over her sweat-sheened body and fell fast asleep.

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A rap on the door woke Miss Walker from a deep, fulfilling slumber.

"Miss Walker? You have a caller."

"A caller?"

"Yes, ma'am, Miss Lister is here to see you," Gabrielle shouted through the door.

Miss Walker began to sit up before she remembered the candle inside her, and eased it out. It was slippery, like Anne's center, and made her want to crawl inside Anne's arms, unclothed. Before she could put it anywhere, the door open and Miss Lister strode in, a knowing smile on her face.

"Why, Miss Walker, have I interrupted something?"

Miss Walker's face shone bright red, and she tried to hide her embarrassment. "No, Miss Lister. Had you walked in last night, you might have. This morning, I've just awakened."

Anne sat on the bed and leaned over to inspect the candle. "I see my little gift went to good use."

Miss Walker set the candle down carefully on the side table and sat up straighter. "I've never seen anything like them."

"Ah, yes. A penny a dozen in Paris. Were you perfectly scandalized?" Anne asked, inching closer to Miss Walker. Her musky smell wafted into Miss Walker's flaring nostrils. It was divine to have Anne back.

"No. Yes. I slept with the candle inside me because I wanted to feel you there," Miss Walker said in a rush. God, Anne drove her to madness. Why had she said that out loud? Because she wanted Miss Lister to know, and to do something about it.

"Show me."

"Show you what?" Miss Walker asked, genuinely confused.

"Show me exactly what you did last night." Miss Lister's look was challenging in a very desirable way.

"Only if you help."

"How would you like me to help?" Anne asked with a devilish grin.

"You can be the candle."