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Verisimilitude in Fiction
By Wonko


After her fourth meeting of the day Doris Wolfe was quite sure she was going insane.  Being Mayor had seemed like such a good idea at the time.  First Mayor of a small, insignificant provincial town.  Then who knows?  Maybe Governor.  And after that?  The sky was the limit.  She could one day even aspire to be window dressing on a desperate and hopeless Presidential campaign.

It had worked for Sarah Palin.

But on days like these Doris longed for the simpler days of prosecution and deceit.  Why should she care, really, about where the stop signs were situated on Main Street?  Didn't she - the freakin' Mayor - have better things to do?  Didn't these people know that their lives were ticking away moment by moment and they were wasting precious seconds - her precious seconds - on this pointless drivel?

"I'll certainly take your views into consideration, Jim," she said with a smooth smile and shook the man's limp, sweaty hand.  Ew.  "No decisions have been taken yet so you can be assured I'll listen to all sides."  Except she hadn't listened to a word he'd said.

Finally alone, she sighed and leaned back in her chair, scraping her hands through her hair.  She needed to get out of City Hall, that much was obvious.  She needed a distraction.  She briefly considered calling Olivia and asking her to lunch so she could tease and needle her a little more about Natalia.  But she quickly rejected the notion.  Olivia was just so disgustingly happy these days that it actually hurt to be around her.  Bad enough that Olivia was madly in love and letting it leak out of every pore.  Doris could handle that, with a little light sarcasm and a force field of feigned nonchalance.  No, what was worse was the tell tale lassitude in her limbs, the faint red blush on her cheeks, the occasional hastily covered mark on her throat.  Olivia was getting some.  And Doris?  Well, Doris wasn't.

So, to Company alone then.  She'd have a light lunch, maybe surreptitiously check out some women she'd never have the guts to approach without her hat on, and then head back to work for the good citizens of Springfield.

"Hi, can I have a Cobb salad and a mineral water please?" she ordered when she got there, then turned and scanned the restaurant when Buzz scampered off to prepare her meal.  Her eyes lighted on Natalia on her own in a corner, a pile of books on the table in front of her and what looked like a manuscript in her hands.  She was reading quite intently, with a flush rising from her chest to her cheeks.

Ah.  Now, while Olivia was difficult to be around these days Natalia was decidedly easy.  Olivia was as smug as a cat with a whole barrel of cream, but Natalia was a lot easier to embarrass.  With a grin and a dangerous flash of her eyes Doris made her way over to Natalia's table.

"Mind if I join you?" she said, then sat down without waiting for an answer.  Natalia's head snapped up so quickly that Doris worried for a moment she might sprain something.  She hoped not.  Olivia might never forgive her if Natalia's neck - and, therefore, her mouth, lips and tongue - were to be out of commission.

"Doris!" Natalia spluttered.  "I...uhm..what are you- I mean hi, uh...I'm working."

Doris raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.  This should be good.  "You're working for Blake Marler these days, right?  I hear she's got back into the soft core porn business.  Really Natalia, a good Catholic girl like you getting embroiled in that sordid little world?"

She hadn't thought it was possible, but Natalia's blush actually deepened.  In fact, she was starting to look vaguely purple.  "Uhm..." she started to say, but it seemed that words had failed her.  Doris chuckled as she picked up one of the books on the table between them.

"Forbidden Love," she said, reading the title.  The cover showed two women in a clinch with a man standing in a doorway, a horrified expression on his face.  He looked a little bit like Frank.  "Oh...I get it."  She picked up the next book.  "A Love Less Ordinary," she said.  "And...Divine Secrets of the Sapphic Sisterhood."  She fixed Natalia with a probing look.  "Blake's branching out, is she?"

Natalia bit her lip and nodded.  "She's thinking of recruiting some lesbian authors," she admitted.  "She told me I have to research the lesbian fiction her competitors have published-" she nodded at the pile of cheesily named books "-and give her my opinion on this submission."  Her fingers tightened on the manuscript in her hand.

Buzz chose that moment to deliver her salad and Natalia took the moment of brief respite to breathe.  Doris munched happily on her lunch for a few moments before she continued the conversation.

"I see," she said at last.  "Because you're the closest thing she has to an expert on the art of rug munching, right?"

Natalia's eyes widened.  "Why do you say things like that?" she demanded.  "You make it sound so...dirty."

Doris rolled her eyes.  "It is dirty, Natalia.  If you're doing it right."  She let her mind drift back to her last conquest.  That pretty redhead from Towers, on vacation from college.  Wellesley, of course.  How long ago had that been?  Six months?  No, a year.  Jesus fuck, a year.

Natalia shook her head.  "It doesn't have to be," she insisted.

Doris grunted in frustration and deftly grabbed the manuscript from Natalia's hands.  "Let's see what's got you so worked up then," she muttered, scanning the page.  "So...you're telling me you haven't ever-" she squinted slightly.  God, did she need reading glasses?  Was she that old? "-dipped your stiff little fingers into Olivia's quivering love tunnel?"

Natalia buried her face in her hands and groaned.  "I'm not up to this," she whined.  Doris could only laugh.

"Oh my God, this is priceless," she said, flicking through the manuscript.  "Deborah groaned as soft skin met soft skin for the first time.  Okay, number one?  Groaning is what you do when you're in pain.  Secondly, why is it always soft?  Why is never hard rough and nasty?"

Natalia blinked.  "Uhm..."  But she didn't get a chance to finish what she'd been about to say because Doris had found another jewel of a passage.

"Her heart raced as Lia's hungry fingers slid across her slippery mound.  Her moist flower petals opened in anticipation as the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her need made itself known."

Natalia's eyes were wide and desperate.  "There are a hundred and fifty pages just like that," she said plaintively.

For a moment Doris wasn't sure quite how to react.  Then finally, only one response seemed right.  She laughed.  Loudly, uproariously and genuinely.  "Oh God, Natalia, I hope she's paying you well.  This is like torture."

"What's like torture?"

Doris and Natalia looked up together to see Blake Marler sauntering over to the table.  Doris grinned up at her.  "This fantastic submission," she explained, waving the manuscript around.  "I didn't know you published comedy."

Blake sat down, crossing her left leg over her right thigh.  "No good?" she said, addressing the question to Natalia.  Doris answered for her.

"I think it's quite likely that-" she glanced at the author's name on the front page "-Darlena LaCrosse has never had sex with anyone, let alone a woman," she said.  "This is painful."

A very muted blush rose on Blake's cheeks.  "I didn't realise you'd be sharing my company's submissions with every Tom, Dick and Harry that came along," she said to Natalia, a little sharply.

"Hey," Doris said.  "I'm no Tom or Harry.  And I'm certainly not a Dick."

"I'm sorry, Blake," Natalia said, ignoring her.  "She just...grabbed it."  Just then, a chirp from her cellphone distracted Natalia's attention.  "Oh...I have to pick up Emma," she said, frowning.  "Blake, I'm so sorry-"

"Just go," Blake said, with a magnanimous wave.  "It's fine, I know what she's like."

Doris raised her eyebrows as Natalia left.  "I sincerely doubt that, Ms Marler," she said.  "I think you'll find I'm full of surprises."


Doris grinned.  "So, Blake...or should I say Darlena?"  The flush spreading up from Blake's chest told her she'd been right in her vague recollection of Blake's pen name.  "You're branching out in more ways than one, hmm?"

"Oh God," Blake muttered, covering her face with her hands.  "I don't know what's wrong with me," she admitted.  "Ever since Olivia and Natalia started...well, you know started I've just had all these strange thoughts running through my head.  I'd hoped writing something down would...would..."

"Exorcise your demons?" Doris guessed.  Blake nodded.  "Yeah, it doesn't work like that," Doris said, though not unkindly.  "Some things you just have to...face head on."

Her voice dropped nearly an octave with the last three words, and she leaned forward.  Well, she'd come here looking for a distraction.  Maybe she'd found one.

Blake watched her with wary - yet speculative - eyes through her fingers.  "What are you saying?" she asked.

Doris shrugged.  "You're a writer," she said.  "Aren't you supposed to..." she trailed her fingers along Blake's thigh under the table..."write what you know?"

Blake dropped her hands to her sides, her eyelids flickering.  "Uhm...that's what they say," she said.  She seemed to be having a little trouble breathing.  "So you...you're a -"

"Ssh," Doris interrupted her.  "It's a secret.  I can trust you to keep a secret, right Darlena?  Unless you want Natalia to know just whose novel she's spent the last few hours cringing at..."

Blake nodded.  "I can keep a secret," she allowed, then gasped as Doris's hand pressed a little more firmly against her thigh.  "Uhm...do you want to maybe get out of here?"

Doris smiled her most predatory, wolfish smile.  "I'd love to," she growled.

Well, it had been a year.  And if Blake's writing was anything to go by, she really needed the help.

Doris Wolfe had had many titles in her life - daughter, mother, lawyer, DA, Mayor of Springfield, and Olivia Spencer's Fairy Gaymother.  If this afternoon went the way she wanted it to then maybe she could add another.

Patron of the Arts.

Doris took Blake to her house.

That wasn't normal.  She usually spent the night - well, half the night - in her conquest's bed.  Her own home was private, pure and sacrosanct.  She'd got into that habit when Ashlee was younger; when she'd been so terrified of her daughter toddling into her bedroom early one morning and finding some strange naked woman wrapped round her.  And it was always a stranger.  Never the same one twice - that was dangerous.

Deep in her heart she knew that this thing with Blake was dangerous too.  This woman was not known for her discretion, after all.  She was a novelist who'd been known to use her acquaintances' real life dramas as plots for her books - not to mention that she'd been unmasked just a few years ago as the Springfield Burns blogger.

Still, what was the worst she could do?  Out her?  She had to confess - if only to herself - that she was growing weary of the closeted life.  Being around Olivia, who was so free and confident and unapologetic, had forced her to face up to exactly how empty her life really was.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked softly, turning to the nervous woman standing wringing her hands in the middle of her living room.

"Yes," Blake replied instinctively, then quickly shook her head.  "No.  No, maybe I should be sober for this."

Doris cocked her head.  "You sure?  One little glass of wine maybe?"  So she could rationalise it afterwards.

Blake shook her head again.  "I don't want to give myself any excuses," she said.  "Eyes wide open.  Is that okay?"

Doris nodded, then crossed the room in two strides.  "That's fine," she said, trailing her fingers across Blake's cheek.  "If you're sure..."

Blake swallowed hard.  "I need to do something," she said.  "Every time I see Olivia and Natalia I wonder what it's like.  It's very distracting, considering I see them nearly every day."

Doris smirked.  How cute - Blake had a little couple crush on Springfield's favourite 'don't label us, we just love each other' pair.  "All right," she said.  "Just one thing..."

Blake drew in a long, shuddering breath.  Doris's lips were very close to hers.  "Yes?"

Doris leaned forward so her breath was ghosting over Blake's lips.  "If I see a book out there about a closeted small town Mayor seducing a bi-curious book publisher...I will make your life a living hell."

A soft squeak was her only response, but Doris took that to mean she'd made herself clear.  And so, with a low growl, she closed the gap and kissed her, hard, sloppily, with no attempt at romance or finesse.  Blake's mouth opened as if to gasp, but no air made it past her lips.  Doris took the opportunity to tangle their tongues together and press her body against Blake's, one arm wrapping round her waist while the other cradled the back of her head.

"Oh my God," Blake muttered over and over between kisses.

"Mmm...I hope you don't blaspheme like that in front of Natalia," Doris replied, dipping her head to Blake's throat and trailing kisses from her jaw to her clavicle.  Blake's pulse thundered beneath her lips and she nipped at it, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to leave a mark.

Blake had both hands in Doris's hair, her nails scraping almost painfully against her scalp.  "No..." she gasped.

Doris pulled her head back, her breath laboured.  "Come on," she said urgently, her hand sliding down Blake's arm.  She tangled their fingers together and squeezed, pulling Blake towards the stairs.

Two jackets and one shirt were left on the stairs as they made their way up to the bedroom, stealing kisses and caresses all the way.  "You're not bad for a woman who's had three kids," Doris muttered, her eyes raking over Blake's body possessively.

"Charmer," Blake replied sharply.

Doris smirked and pushed Blake back until her knees hit the edge of the bed and she was forced to sit down.  "Lesson one," she said as she divested herself of her shirt.  "Real women aren't perfect.  They have stretch marks and love handles and they store fat on their stomachs and thighs.  It's not always bliss, and it's not always soft and sweet.  Got it?"

Blake nodded dumbly.  Her hands rested on Doris's waist.  "Seems pretty soft to me," she said, leaning forward and kissing her stomach, feeling surprisingly strong muscles clench beneath her tongue.

Doris curled her hands round the back of Blake's head.  "But I'm not sweet, Blake.  Remember that."

"Uh huh."  Blake wasn't really listening.  She was much too busy dealing with the zipper of Doris's skirt.  She managed to loosen it finally and it slid down her legs, pooling at her feet.  Doris took one step forward, leaving her shoes behind, and pushed Blake backwards onto the bed.  She straddled her waist, pinning her wrists to the mattress.

"Lesson two," she said breathily.   "A little restraint can be fun."

Blake rolled her hips against Doris's, testing the grip on her wrists as she did so.  Doris's eyes glazed over just a little.

"I know all about restraint," Blake growled.

Doris shook her head.  "There was nothing restrained about the drivel I read this afternoon," she said with a grin.  Blake flushed.

"Yeah, I get it, it was bad.  You're supposed to be showing me what I did wrong, aren't you?"

Doris leaned down, pressing their bodies together from the waist up.  "Okay," she said, sighing a little at the sensation - both familiar and missed - of warm skin moving against hers.  She kissed her briefly, maintaining control.  "I'm no writer," she said.  "But you need to concentrate on feelings rather than mechanics.  And no euphemisms."  She trailed her lips down Blake's throat and chest until she reached the fabric of her bra.  "These are breasts," she whispered.  And very nice ones too.  "They are not quivering mounds of over-excited flesh."  She rolled her eyes.  "I'd expect a woman to kiss them..."  She followed her own example, releasing Blake's wrists so she could reach for the catch on her bra.  "And lick them..."  She flicked her tongue out and trailed random patterns across Blake's breast, skirting closer and closer before finally taking a nipple into her mouth and swirling her tongue round it, sucking gently.

"Oh my fucking God," Blake cried, arching her back and scraping her nails through Doris's hair.

Doris grinned as she pulled her head up.  "There.  Now tell me how that felt," she said, her eyes gleaming with mirth.

Blake gazed down at her with slightly crazed eyes.  "You're not seriously expecting me to think of adjectives right now, are you?"

Doris's left eyebrow twitched.  "You can't think of one?"

Doris ground her teeth.  "Hot," she said at last.  "It made me feel hot...everywhere.  And something else.  Yearning.  I didn't want you to stop."  She searched for Doris's eyes and held them.  "Why did you stop?"

Doris leaned up and kissed her, a little regretfully.  For a moment she'd forgotten that this was Blake's first time with a woman.  This wasn't just about research for a book or scoring points.  This was a whole new, possibly frightening experience for Blake, and Doris wasn't sure she was doing a very good job of making it a good one.  "Sorry," she whispered.

Blake shook her head.  "Just don't stop," she gasped.  "Don't stop."

And Doris didn't.  She returned her attention to the body writhing beneath her, teasing her with kisses and licks and caresses, drinking in every sigh and moan, letting the other woman's responses tell her when to push harder and when to pull back.  "You're beautiful," she whispered against overheated skin.  "Beautiful..."

Blake couldn't reply.  She had lost the power of speech some time ago - unusual for her, the town blabbermouth, but then what about this wasn't unusual?  Who would ever have thought she'd be in bed with a woman - and not just any woman but Doris Wolfe, the Mayor?  Doris Wolfe, the Mayor, kissing a searing trail down her torso; Doris Wolfe, the Mayor, unbuttoning her slacks; Doris Wolfe, the Mayor, nudging her thighs apart and settling in between them like she belonged there, like she'd been born to be there.

"What are you-" Blake began to ask, but then Doris just grinned an utterly charming grin and dipped her head, and suddenly the question was entirely redundant.

"Oh my God," Blake gasped, thrusting her hips up automatically as Doris's tongue started to work its magic.  Of course, men had gone down on her in the past - she was hardly a virgin.  This was different though.  When men had done this to her before it had always been a warm up, with the main event involving a lot of grunting and sweating.  But this...this was the main event.  And oh what a difference that made.

And Doris was wrong.  It was soft.  No rough skin or stubble.  Just heat, and pressure, and two fingers suddenly right where she needed them.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned.

Doris was completely lost in the moment.  It had been too long, way too long, since she'd felt that thrill of something new and exciting dropping into her lap.  And so completely unexpected too.  Honestly, of all the women she could have in her bed - Blake Marler?  She had to struggle to remember any times they'd even interacted before.

But it really didn't matter because they were interacting now.  Boy, were they interacting.

"Don't stop," Blake gasped over and over.  "Don't stop."

Doris had absolutely no intention of stopping.  She could tell Blake was close and - right at that moment - there wasn't anything in the world she wanted more than to take her over that edge.

Blake was vaguely aware of a high pitched keening wail coming from somewhere in the room.  Was it Doris?  No...no, Doris's mouth was definitely otherwise engaged.  It's me, her mind supplied blearily.  Dear God, when did I last make a noise like that?  But soon she forgot to care as Doris's fingers curled inside her and her lips pursed and sucked and the wail turned into a genuine, bona fide, throat rasping scream.

Doris felt the body beneath her stiffen.  She even heard the scream, despite the thighs clamped around her ears.  A thrill of triumph coursed through her.  It didn't matter how many times she pulled it off, making a woman come was still a joy.

When Blake slumped into the mattress, her breath coming in short gasps and her chest heaving, Doris slid up her boneless body like a very smug snake.  "Any adjectives?" she asked, kissing Blake out of her stunned lassitude.

"Mmmm," Blake mumbled against her lips.  "None whatsoever."

Doris laughed.  "So no more purple prose?"

Blake hooked her arms around Doris's neck and smiled.  "No," she said, and kissed her again.  Then, with a quick thrust of her hips, she rolled Doris onto her back and stretched out above her.  "But I definitely think I should get some experience as an active participant."

Doris grinned.  Oh, this was going to be fun.

And decidedly not purple.

The End

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