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Author’s Note: This is the third part of this story. Parts 1 and 2 are in Romance. This part is entirely about a lesbian relationship. Evelyn and Bridget meet about halfway through Part 2. Reading those parts, which have straight sex, will help understanding this.
*****
Briefly, Bridget Casey is at the East Hampton, New York ocean-front house of Peter and Amy Edgar—he’s the very-rich one—when she sees Evelyn Manners sitting on the beach. They become friends. Everything blows up when Bridget catches Evelyn having sex with Todd Newman. There’s backstory there. Suffice it to say that Todd is cheating on someone else. Bridget and Evelyn are just friends at that point and neither has ever had a lesbian relationship. But they realize how much the feel for one another. It’s complicated. Part 2 ends with Bridget stopping at Evelyn’s apartment after Evelyn fled the house:
Evelyn had not planned to run away as she did. It happened. She took her keys but nothing else when she left. Now it was all she had; her phone, her purse, her driver’s license. Sitting in her room at the house. She’d have to replace them. She could never go back. The traffic heading into the City was light, and her car was in its garage about two hours after she left. She opened her apartment door and sat in the living room until she fell asleep.
Evelyn was awakened by her buzzer. “Who is it?”
“Bridget. Let me up.”
Evelyn let her up. The door was open when Bridget got to it. She had Evelyn’s stuff and put it on the coffee table by the sofa. Evelyn sat on the sofa after getting some water. Bridget sat across from her. Neither said anything until Evelyn’s “Thank you for bringing this to me. I forgot it. You could have FedExed it.”
Bridget still said nothing. She got up and walked around the table. Her eyes were locked on Evelyn’s. She crossed and stepped across Evelyn’s legs and straddled them. Their faces now seven or eight inches apart. Her right hand went to the other’s left cheek and for the first time the two shared an intimate touch. Evelyn sucked in her breath as the fingers slowly moved down. And did it again. Bridget put some strands of Evie’s hair behind her left ear. She leaned in and kissed the other woman on the lips. Neither of them had ever felt another woman’s lips on her own. Bridget pulled back.
“I told you last night that I love you for who you are. I know you did something horrible but I, at least, forgive you for it. It’s up to other people to figure out what they are going to do.”
Her hand again went to Evie’s cheek and her lips again went to Evie’s lips. She crossed over Evie’s legs and held her hand out. She led her to Evie’s bedroom.
“I am not going to lie about what we’re about to do. If they hate me for it, they hate me for it. I can’t not do what we’re about to do.”
With that we get to:
Very Rich and Very Famous: Part 3: Evelyn and Bridget
The Morning After
Bridget awoke in the middle of their first night. She needed to pee. For the first time in her life, she found herself in bed with another person. She was initially startled by the arm draped over her and the light-breathing behind her until she remembered. She remembered whose arm it was and whose breath it was and it washed over her like a flood of a contentment she’d never known. One she’d never known was possible.
Still. She had to pee. She disentangled herself and made her way slowly in the dark, guided by her hands, to where she hoped the bathroom was. While there, she closed the door and turned on the light. After peeing, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair disheveled, she saw a woman she would not have recognized two days earlier. Sleepy with eyes reddened by crying but displaying both satisfaction and hunger.
She turned off the light, waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark, and slowly felt her way back to the bed. She found that Evie had turned, now facing away from her, so Bridget wrapped her right arm around her and felt her sweat and her glow. She lightly kissed the other woman’s neck and quickly drifted off.
Several hours later, Evelyn too had her startled moment. Since the demise of her engagement, she’d rarely awakened with another person and never in her own bed. When she remembered whose arm it was and whose breath it was, she shared her lover’s contentment. She reached for her phone to check the time. 6:47.
She wallowed in Bridget’s embrace, fully awake. Her first thought was of what Bridget had done. Not sleeping with her, though that was significant. Sacrificing her connections with Peter and Amy and Petey. Evelyn felt how unworthy she was for Bridget’s sacrifice and prayed that someday Bridget would think she was worth it. At that moment, though, she prayed that Bridget would not realize what she was giving up and would not rush away, muttering I’m-sorry-Evelyn-this-was-all-a-horrible-mistake. She deserved to have Bridget leave—she did not deserve to have escort her stay.
When she went to the bathroom, she too looked into the mirror. It was not the face she had seen at the Hamptons house less than twenty-four hours earlier. It was a strange mix of happiness and fear, the fear that the happiness she just felt at the hands and tongue of a woman—the woman—she loved would be stripped from her, leaving her much worse off. That saying “it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all” would be a cruel joke.
She was still staring at her image when she heard light tapping on the door. She opened it, and Bridget, also naked, entered. She stood behind the taller woman and they both looked into the mirror. Where their eyes met. Bridget couldn’t drop her chin to Evie’s shoulder because either she was too short or Evie was too tall. So she got on her tip toes.
“I told you I would not leave you. I meant it. I mean it. I will not leave you.”
Evelyn nodded as a tear slipped down her right cheek, their eyes still locked.
“I was afraid you’d be dressed when I got back. That’s why I’ve been here for so long. I was afraid you’d . . .” and Bridget stopped her by turning her so they faced each other.
“Whatever happens happens together.”
With that they hugged and Bridget led Evie back to the bedroom by the hand.
The night before was rabid. Neither knew what she was doing. Especially Bridget. But nature overcame everything and they’d enjoyed it. Hell, Bridget is a nurse and even she couldn’t identify some of the body parts she’d kissed in their enthusiasm. This morning was different. They were calm and each demanded to know what the other wanted. Surprisingly, given how inexperienced she was, Bridget took the lead. She told Evie to lie back and close her eyes. “No peeking.” Which, given that it was spoken wasn’t quite right so she amended it to “keep your damn eyes closed.” Bridget kissed the pair of eyelids, which elicited the first moan of the morning.
She sat back. Evie was beautiful. Her proportions perfect. Bridget didn’t care that her own were not. (Nor, she would learn, would Evie ever care.) She traced her right index-finger from Evie’s forehead down her nose and across her lips—receiving a slight peck as it passed—and down, down, down. Between the tits, into the innie bellybutton and into the trimmed bush above the vulva. A pause and then she ran the finger through body parts she hoped to get to know very well: the damp folds and over the clitoris and then she ran it into the vagina. She stared at it there. Evie’s legs spread and her mouth whispered “more. Please more.”
Instead Bridget bent down and placed her lips on Evie’s and their mouths opened and they kissed while Bridget wiggled her index and added her middle finger and Evie began to rock her hips. Evie’s eyes shot open when Bridget removed her fingers, which she brought up to Evie’s left cheek. They were damp. Grabbing her right cheek with her other hand, she held the face and found herself losing herself to it.
“You are so beautiful.” They both knew Bridget was not speaking only of Evie’s body. Bridget fell back. “Please take me.”
Evie, already well-excited by Bridget’s brief fingering, turned her focus to the other woman. Now she was running her hands along the body next to her. A body a few inches shorter than her own. A body with smooth, inviting curves and flowing blonde-hair. Breasts born to be held and nipples born to be suckled on. And a nicely-trimmed, blonde pussy that was the most beautiful thing Evie had ever seen.
Reining herself in, she began by caressing Bridge’s breasts—tits—and kissing Bridget’s nipples. Then back to kissing the glorious lips. She couldn’t help it. She threw herself on top. The two continued their kiss for five, ten, fifteen minutes. All the time their sweat mingling until Bridget pushed Evie away and to the side.
“Love me.”
Mischievously, Evie said, “I thought I was,” which got the rejoinder, “shut up and kiss me THERE.” Evie turned so she could blow on Bridget’s pussy and then leaned in to lick her as Bridget turned onto her side. Both women acting on pure, unadulterated instinct. Suddenly, Evie felt Bridget’s arms around her ass as she was being pulled to Bridget’s own mouth and the two were like kittens. Lapping each other with no desire to ever stop.
It couldn’t last. Within four or five minutes Evie felt Bridget’s hands pull her tighter. Coming up for air from what she was doing to Evie, Bridget said, “more-more-more” and Evie gave it to her even after Bridget released her hands. Which she did so she could grab Evie’s ass and pull her pussy to her own mouth and shortly using only their lips and their tongues each of the women felt the onset of a wonderful orgasm. Evie came, or started to come, first, which set Bridget off. Each struggled to maintain contact with the other until Evie shouted “STOP.”
When they each caught their breaths, Evie stood to reposition herself escort bayan to lie face-to-face with Bridget and said in the clear light of day and in a post-coital flurry, “I love you Bridget, more than I could have imagined loving anyone.”
Then again she wept. Again Bridget pulled her closer. And shortly sleep collected them both.
At Sea
When Bridget left the East Hampton house about an hour after Evelyn was gone on Saturday afternoon, grabbing Evelyn’s things, she said she couldn’t leave Evelyn alone. The others had no idea what was going on there. Todd had disappeared into town. Jane was calmer; her daughter took her for a walk on the beach. They spoke, closer than they’d been since Fran’s pregnancy with Eve. Jane was always the strong one. The burden of raising a girl with the help of her family. Now Jane felt much as she had when she came home and her ex-husband Frank left a cryptic note that he was not coming back. There, at least, she was able to get a formal divorce after Fran told her that he’d moved to Arizona and was remarried with two kids
Every ounce of Fran was poured into Eve. It is what got her through the horrible period of the past seven or eight months, including the banality of her hookup sex with doctors. Which might, just might, be behind her now that things were going well with Barry. She was proud of her daughter, already two-and-a-half. Rambunctious and troublesome. But hers. Peter was an active but part-time father. Neither he nor anyone else questioned Fran’s primacy. And all knew that she never again came near what happened when she crashed her Mercedes into a tree.
Fran feared that with the coming of Petey, Peter and Amy’s son, they would lose interest in Eve. They did not. Eve was making it clear that she was Petey’s older sister, insisting on holding him at least once when they were together. And Peter and Amy tried not to show favorites. For the most part; Amy couldn’t be blamed for doting on her own son, but she was always trying to do it aware of Eve’s presence. Amy had been a total bitch to Fran when they first met but now the reality had washed away the pretense and the two had fallen to liking one another in their own way.
For Amy and Peter, Petey made them feel complete as a couple.
But Bridget? Why did she run after Evelyn? The sweetest of the sweet running after the slut.
These were Fran’s thoughts when her mother interrupted her.
“He’s a man. He did what men do. She’s pretty. She threw herself at him. I need to talk to him when we get back.”
Fran liked Todd well enough. He was good to her mother. Sweet. Attentive. The two had real chemistry and he had helped her self-confidence and gotten her out of her shell. A bit of a wandering eye. He’d slipped. As the two women walked, they became more confident in one thing: Evelyn had seduced Todd and he could not be blamed for doing something that any man would do.
When Jane confronted Todd at the house, with Fran, he admitted it. While he didn’t lie, he said that he couldn’t be blamed for wanting to sleep with someone “as beautiful as Evelyn.” He knew that wasn’t true. That he had cheated on Jane but he could not admit it. He cared for Jane and told himself he wouldn’t screw up again. Jane didn’t blame him. Nor did Fran.
The End
Bridget was right. They did hate her for it. Not “they.” Jane. Which is all that mattered. It was made clear to Peter that he had to choose. He chose Eve. How could he not?
Bridget’s position at the Foundation became untenable, especially with Fran working there. She was very good at it, but she had to leave. Peter, without Fran’s knowledge, got her a position at a non-profit that did the actual research; the Peter and Amy Edgar Foundation merely directed money to non-profits like it. The things she had at the house were sent to her. She was allowed to pick up her things at the apartment but, at her insistence, she was accompanied by a staff member when she did. The apartment was otherwise empty of people.
Bridget was right as well in that she didn’t care. She regretted losing her friends, and she understood why they did what they did. But in her mind she had no choice either. She was not leaving the woman she loved. She forgave her even if no one else would.
In the end, Bridget’s forgiveness was all that mattered to Evelyn. She was far from the crying woman on the beach awed by the magnitude of the house to which Bridget brought her. It was just a house. Very big and with a great view. But just another house.
A month after they first made love in Evelyn’s small apartment, Bridget gradually moved in. She kept her place in Woodlawn for a few months just in case but surrendered it three months later. From Evelyn’s East Side apartment she could walk to work. She could sleep every night with the woman she loved.
Amy called Bridget now and then at first but the break was too hard and the calls stopped.
Even before bayan escort committing to Bridget, Evelyn found herself more broadly. Her managers at Chase saw the difference and suggested she apply for a position in the risk-assessment department. The work there involved reviewing a borrower’s or potential-borrower’s assets and assessing the strengths and weaknesses of its business. At the heart of the assessment was a judgment about the applicant’s prospects. She interviewed and based upon her own department’s recommendations—her boss made clear that she was not trying to dump Evelyn on another department but felt she could “blossom” in a new environment—she got the promotion.
Bridget and Evelyn loved the apartment. It was too small but it’d have to do for a while. They were loners by nature. Neither had a desire to join in a lesbian scene, if one existed. Each was by nature introverted and each could think of little that would improve on their simply spending time with one another. The couple had quickly been accepted by Bridget’s folks up in the Bronx. All they ever wanted for their daughter was that she truly fall in love with someone, and it was clear that Evelyn was just such a “someone.”
Thus, in a section of the northern Bronx one would not expect to be welcoming to a lesbian couple, that barrier, if it ever really existed, was no more, When the two women drove up on Sundays to see Bridget’s folks, they became just another happy young couple in the neighborhood visiting their folks and regulars at one of the Irish pubs.
Things were a bit dicier with Evelyn’s family. She’d grown up in an upper middle-class home in Chappaqua, north of the City. Her parents, Brian and Irene Manners, were lawyers working in Midtown Manhattan, partners in two different firms there. She had one older brother, Jess, who moved to San Francisco after he graduated from Penn. He worked in tech, the non-descriptive world akin to a New Yorker’s working “in finance.”
More than anything, it was disappointment. Her folks always thought of Evelyn finally settling down, meeting a doctor or lawyer or banker, having some kids, and gliding into the local women’s club and visiting them on weekends. Over the years, they’d come to recognize that the broken engagement was a good thing for her. Her marriage to him would have been drifting—again—into doing something because she was expected to do it.
Evelyn mentioned to them about Bridget some two weeks after she fled the Hamptons house but only as a new friend who had been helpful. She drove up to speak to them a couple of months after they were living together. Her parents were a bit surprised when she said she was coming. She was normally too busy to bother. She told Bridget what she was doing and Bridget insisted on going with her. In-for-a-penny. As the BMW pulled into the driveway, the nerves kicked in for both. One of those Big Moments In My Life. Evelyn did not know how her parents would react to the reality of her being in love with another woman.
“Evie.” Bridget said this with her hand on Evelyn’s, which was on the gear-shifter. She looked at Evie, but Evie was looking straight ahead. “Your parents love you, right?” Evie nodded. “If you tell them that I make you happier than you’ve ever been—nod if that’s true,” and Evie nodded and couldn’t help but smile, “they’ll be happy for us.”
Evie looked to her lover, and they shared a chaste kiss.
“And if that doesn’t work, tell them I’m pregnant.”
“You are such a bitch.”
“Yeah, but I’m your bitch.”
With that the two got out of the car and, holding hands, walked to the door.
This was not unnoticed by Brian and Irene Manners. They were discretely watching from the dining room. Evelyn had not said anything when she told them she was coming. He didn’t mean to, but when he saw Bridget, Brian whispered, “fuck.” With her husband frozen in place, Irene rushed to open the door before Evelyn knocked and reached to hug her daughter, moving her eyes to Bridget while she did.
Bridget was a few feet behind Evelyn. Irene was a bit embarrassed because normally she would have turned to Bridget and said, “And you must be . . .” but she had no idea who this woman was. Well, she had a pretty good idea who this woman was. She didn’t know her name.
Evelyn jumped in. She had rehearsed this and gone over it with Bridget.
“Mom. This is Bridget Casey. She’s my girlfriend.”
Irene surprised even herself. She moved to hug Bridget but did not do so, as one might have expected, rotely. She did it with genuine affection. It was enough that Bridget had her daughter’s endorsement and she held her hug far longer than anyone expected and whispered so only Bridget could hear, “I am so happy to meet you.” Then, stepping back, she shooed the two into the house.
By then, Brian Manners had recovered. His immediate reaction to seeing his daughter holding the hand of another woman was just that, a reaction. It was more in surprise than anything else. So he hoped. He feared that his visceral reaction was a distaste, that’s the word, for his daughter being with a woman. It was a reaction so contrary to his own professed statements. He had the uncomfortable taste of hypocrisy in his mouth.
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