Here is the entire first chapter of Redefined, my first book with eXtacy Books.  This is a F/F piece and is definitely adult.

 

Chapter 1: Know Thyself

 

I can’t redefine darkness.  I always thought I could.  From the time that I left the orphanage on a scholarship to the university to now, I’ve done everything I could to embody the blackness that I always thought I felt.  My blond hair was dyed black and I got a piercing in my left brow and nose.  Some people would say that I wanted attention but really, I just wanted to be left alone.  I was a classic case of anti-social repression and I was cool with that.

 

Classes were mostly just a way to pass the time because I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life.  Art was always the first thing on the priority list but how exactly do you make a living at that?  Graphic design?  Boring.  Ad work?  Eh… I don’t know.  It was really hard to find definition in the environment that was supposed to help define you.  Perhaps I’d just be a starving artist and stick to working at the book store.  It paid the rent.  I guess I just wasn’t ‘avant-garde’.

 

Work was pretty nice for the most part.  Studying and reading were rarely interrupted with anything more pressing than taking cash.  The best part was that the boss didn’t really mind if I wasn’t chatty with the customers.  Polite and professional was the order of the day.  Besides, it helped keep my friend count to zero and no one seemed to remember my name.  I defined anonymity.

 

Or so I thought.

 

Sophia was my exact opposite.  A woman who got what she wanted and hadn’t ever had to take ‘no’ for an answer.  When I met her, my social naivety led me to believe that it was a chance encounter.  As if.  Had I known then what I know now… but I’m jumping ahead of myself.  Things need to follow an order or they end up floundering in senselessness like bad poetry from a wannabe lit major.

 

“You have lovely hair.” It was the first thing she said to me as she bought some non-descript calendar at my shop.  I don’t think anyone ever had bothered to compliment me since I had started working there.  My aura must’ve told people I just wanted to be left alone.  I found it confusing that she would miss it. “Did you dye it yourself?”

 

“Yeah,” I responded without thinking.  My voice was thin and almost wispy.  I tried to keep my conversations to under ten words or less.  “I get it at the salon outlet.”

 

She leaned her head to either side, scrutinizing the job I’d done. “It looks great.”  Came her reply, a smile spreading across her thin features.  Her eyes were vibrantly green and accentuated the natural blond of her hair perfectly.  Long and flowing, her locks hung about thin shoulders and while she had a willowy build, her breasts were noticeably larger than mine.  An odd thought to contemplate really.  I had to wonder where it came from.

 

“I make sure I do a good job.  But keeping it short like this,” My hair was trimmed to just above my shoulders. “Makes the task a lot easier.”

 

“I can imagine.  What color was it before?”

 

“Like yours, blond.”

 

“Oh, I should’ve guessed with those blue eyes.  I know that people want to try and tell you that eye color doesn’t matter, that you can’t tell anything about hair color from them but fair complexion and light colored eyes… I dunno.  Tells me blond I guess.  I bet it was really pretty.  Why dye it?”

 

“Change.” I lifted my shoulders in a shrug.  “You know, finally out on my own so I wanted to do some things that I was never allowed to even consider before.”

 

“Like the piercings?”

 

“Oh, definitely the piercings.  Sister Anne would’ve probably had me caned to death had I come back from school with a ring in my brow.”

 

“Sister, huh?  Catholic… boarding school?”

 

“No, orphanage.”  It suddenly dawned on me that I was talking to this woman—actually having a conversation.  The last time that something like that had happened was when I was in the sixth grade.  Talk about a detachment from self.  But why?  Why was she so simple to talk to?  More importantly, I hadn’t realized how much I had missed interaction.  “And yeah, Catholic school as well but they were a little more liberal there if you can believe that.”

 

“Wow… I’ve never met anyone who grew up in an orphanage.” Somehow, she managed to say that without being condescending.  That unto itself was a feat.  “Was it hard like you always hear about?  Or do they exaggerate?”

 

“I dunno.  It’s the only way I know.  Wasn’t so hard for me I guess.”

 

“My name’s Sophia,” She extended her hand across the counter, smiling widely again. It was an expression that obviously came easy to her.

 

“Natasha,” I replied, taking her hand gently.  Her grip was firm enough to almost draw a wince.

 

“Pretty name too.” Sophia said, taking her hand back.  “Do you go by Tasha normally?  Or…”

 

“Nat.” The nickname sounded flat in comparison to ‘Tasha’ but I never could stand the suffix of my name.  “I know it’s not very exciting but—“

 

“No, it’s direct.  I like it.  It has character.” She gestured with her head toward the door. “So do you attend the university then?”

 

“Yeah, I’m studying art.”

 

“Oo, art, huh?  Any field in particular?”

 

“I love to draw but I think that I’ll inevitably end up a starving painter.”

 

“Any work on display anywhere?”

 

I gestured to the walls. “A couple pieces here that I donated.”  I pointed to a portrait on the wall of a woman dressed in Victorian livery, a piece that had most recently earned me an ‘A’. “That one I’m trying to sell but no one’s taken interest.”

 

Sophia walked over to the painting and began to scrutinize it.  The woman depicted was dressed in a black lacy dress, the tight sleeves ending just at her wrists.  Slender hands were clasped one atop the other, perched on a knee through the wide skirt.  Her thin neck was covered by the dress as if she were wearing a collar and her hair was curled with a strand on either side of her narrow face falling to her chin.  I was under the impression that I had created an image of timeless beauty.  Unfortunately, most people never even stopped to look.

 

“This is the most breathtaking painting I’ve seen in a long time,” Sophia said finally, turning back to me.  “And you’re only selling it for a hundred dollars?”

 

“Only?” I was stunned by her response.  “Why?  What do you think I should be selling it for?  I mean… it’s been there for almost a month and no one’s so much as stopped to look at it so…”

 

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars for it right now.”

 

“Five hundred?” That was probably the loudest my voice had been in years.  “You’re teasing me.”

 

“Not at all,” She pulled her purse from around her back and rifled through it, withdrawing a wallet.  A moment passed and she counted out some hundreds and fifties.  “There you go, count it up.  Or do you think that six hundred would be more appropriate?”

 

“Six!” I stared at the money on the counter as if it were the forbidden fruit.  Slowly, I reached out and took it.  It felt foolish to be counting it in front of her.  I always had trouble with that, like you’re calling the person a liar.  In this case, it was especially silly since the first bill I counted was the amount I had asked for in the first place.  It was all there.  Five hundred dollars.  Conscience kicked in…  “I can’t accept five hundred, I mean… I only listed it at one hundred.”

 

“That’s cause you didn’t know that someone would want it so badly.” Sophia smiled.  “Do we have a deal?”

 

“Yeah, yeah I guess so…” How could I say no?  She insisted practically.  “But wait! I’ll have to write you up a receipt.”

 

Sophia walked over to my painting and carefully took it down.  “That’s okay, you can give it to me when I see you on Friday.”

 

“What’s Friday?” I called to her as she opened the door.

 

“When we’re hanging out of course.  See you then!”

 

Five hundred dollars richer and suddenly with plans for a Friday night that didn’t involve horror movie rentals and microwave popcorn, I found myself stunned.  The rest of the evening was wasted time.  I couldn’t focus on my studies, I couldn’t draw, I could barely think.  The world was a surreal place for the last few hours and I had to wonder if Sophia was being honest: was I really going to see her again?  And what did she actually want?

 

*          *          *

 

Sophia bought my painting on Tuesday so I had three days to think about what was going to happen on Friday.  After the initial stun wore off, I felt a little indignant.  How could she just presume that I would go along with her out to do… whatever she wanted to do?  Impolite to say the least but hey, I hadn’t done anything social since I made the mistake of showing up at a coffee shop for a gathering of people from my art class.  Maybe the convention changed to just assuming someone’s participation.

 

Her method of asking me to hang out felt sort of like a pick up line from a guy.  I mean, she didn’t give me the chance to say I was busy or that I couldn’t make it or that I had other plans.  All three would’ve been a lie as I never had any plans and so was never busy and thus could of course make it.  The real question that hadn’t occurred to me then but should’ve been asked was how did she just know I’d be at work on Friday and why not get my phone number just in case?

 

Perhaps I’m just being overly critical.  I guess there are a ton of explanations.  They don’t matter.  She showed up on Friday about an hour before I closed up the shop.  We idly chatted throughout the rest of my shift and through the time that it took me to get things all locked up and put away.

 

She was a really nice person.  Suspicion was eating at me that there was something she wanted but I was able to dismiss it because really, I didn’t have anything she could take.  The money she gave me was a month’s rent with a little change to spare.  It was obvious if she could impulse buy a painting that she wasn’t looking for financial gain.  Maybe she genuinely wanted to be friends.  Maybe I actually wanted a friend finally.

 

“Where’re we going anyway?”  I pulled on a long black leather jacket; a present to myself at Christmas time that nearly cost me January’s rent.  Thank God, I was able to work extra hours at the book store.  Beside that, I really didn’t have anything to ‘dress for the occasion’.  I was in long, baggy black pants with a ton of pockets, black combat boots and a black tee shirt that didn’t have a print on it.  No make up either.  It was too much of a hassle to apply when I was just going to sit around for hours reading books.

 

“Well, I was going to take you out to dinner,” Sophia on the other hand was dressed like she was going to a presidential fund raiser.  “But with you dressed like that, I can see that we’ll have a stop to make first.”

 

Her gown was long and black with a slit up the side of the skirt to show off her tone legs garbed in black stockings.  Four inch heels strapped about her ankles and I couldn’t imagine they were comfortable though I must admit to having no experience in them.  The shoulder straps were thin, hanging low on her shoulders and there was no back to speak of, the outfit dipping into a ‘u’ just before her waist. 

 

Her hair was tied up into an immaculate bun, wisps of blond bangs dipping over her chin.  The make up job had to be professionally applied; the eye shadow blending exquisitely with her skin tone and a dark, conservative lipstick completed the affair.  Diamond earrings matched the necklace and I found myself idly wondering if I would be able to afford one or the other with the money she had just given me.  Probably not.

 

“What do you mean?  Where?”

 

“Well, no offense dear but that outfit just won’t do.  But we’ve got time and I know a place that should be able to help us even on short notice.” Sophia pushed the door open and we stepped out.  I heard a car’s alarm beep off as I locked up.  When I turned around, she was crawling into a new sporty looking black car.  The passenger side window rolled down and she said in a good natured voice “Get in!”

 

I felt self-conscious opening the door as if I would hurt it.  The seats were leather and there were more lights than in some sci-fi movie space ships all over the dash.  It took me a moment to remember to close the door and I just looked around in awe, not quite realizing that Sophia’s eyes were fixed on me.

 

“Fasten your seat belt, silly.” She teased.  “What’s got you so enthralled anyway?”

 

Absently, my hands found the seat belt and fumbled to get it secured.  “I’ve never been in a car like this before.” I finally said.  “It’s cool.  Was it expensive?”

 

“That depends on what you gauge expensive by.” She replied coyly, pulling out onto the deserted street and heading off toward downtown.  “Considering what my parents left me, no, this wasn’t a particular hardship to buy.”

 

“Oh, are your parents…”

 

“Yeah, they both passed away in an accident.”  Sophia smiled to offset the news.  “Don’t worry, it was a long time ago.  I’m cool with it.”

 

“How old were you?”

 

“Just barely eighteen.  That’s kind of fortunate I guess so I could just assume the inheritance and not have to go through some weird guardianship thing.  Not that I was happy they were gone mind you but I wouldn’t have been cool to have to go to a foster home or something.”

 

“No other family then?”

 

“Nah, I was an only child and my parents never talked much about relatives.  Not to me at least.  And the lawyers weren’t forthcoming so…”

 

“I’m sorry,” Suddenly, the awkwardness of my questions dawned on me.  “It’s probably kinda weird to be quizzed on it.”

 

“It’s okay, I understand curiosity, hon.” Sophia flashed me one of her grins but I couldn’t help but fixate on her familiarity.

 

‘Hon’.  A guy in one of my classes thought to call me that a couple times and it always managed to bug the shit out of me.  But somehow when she used it I wasn’t offended.  That unto itself was weird.  Maybe I was just exceptionally forgiving in this hunt to be her friend.  Of course, it didn’t seem like I was really in any jeopardy of damaging a potential relationship.  It’s easy to look back and see naivety.

 

“So where are we going anyway?  I mean to um… deal with this outfit?”

 

“We’re going to a friend’s shop.  If my guess is correct under that frumpy attire there’s something hot to work with, then we shouldn’t even have to worry about getting the outfit tailored.  Something straight off the shelf should work just fine.”

 

“Oh, but Sophia, I can’t really afford anything like that—“

 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m taking you to a fancy place; I’ll pay for the fancy clothes.  It’s no problem.”

 

“But I can’t ask you to do that—“

 

“Good thing you didn’t ask then, huh?” Sophia reached over and patted my leg in a reassuring way.  “Cheer up.  It’s only money and I don’t mind spending it on friends.”

 

“Okay…” I was unsure and more than a little uneasy but I wasn’t going to be a killjoy.  Really, if that was her attitude about money who was I to argue?  Maybe I just figured that there weren’t any nice people in the world.  Or that they always wanted something.  Funny that I just immediately ruled out that Sophia might want something.  Blinded by my own hope for idealism; an idealism which I never thought I believed in anyway.

 

When I heard the term ‘friend’s shop’ I had this vision of a little place off the main strip of the downtown area.  Not a huge store with a window front that reminded one of a junior version of a Macy’s display.  Before I even got all the way through the door, the scented atmosphere alone spoke of affluence I could never hope to achieve.  I was far out of my depth.

 

At six o’clock on a Friday night, the place was bustling with the type of women that looked down their nose at girls like me.  I could feel their stares as prominent as if they were throwing rotten fruit and stones at me with every step.  The most uncomfortable feeling in the world has to be progressing through a gauntlet of stuck up women with more vanity than brains.  I was literally thankful when we got to the vacated back of the store and through the employee only door.

 

“We’re not looking through the store?” I asked as we proceeded down a long hall and into a storage area with couches and long racks of clothes.  It was sort of a break room as well with a sink and refrigerator and a counter that held a microwave.  Despite the clutter of boxes, I found it mostly comfortable.  It’s kind of sad that retail break rooms are a source of familiarity for me.

 

“Nah,” Sophia waved her hand at such a suggestion, moving over to the couch and having a seat.  One leg curled over the other and she clasped her hands calmly in her lap. “Everything we want will be back here anyways.”

 

“Oh.” I paced around, eyes scanning the walls and finally moving to the racks.  The outfits were much like Sophia’s: elegant, gorgeous and insanely beyond any sort of price range I could pretend to afford.  I couldn’t see myself in any of them.  They were just too nice.  I was a ‘if it fits, wear it’ type of girl.  The baggy pants I had on were convenient and the tee shirt went with everything.  “How’s your friend going to know we’re here?”

 

“I told her to expect us around this time.” Sophia replied, watching me intently. “I had a feeling we’d have to stop by.”

 

“You knew that I’d dress like a slob?”

 

Sophia let out a musical laugh, shaking her head at me. “Don’t sound so upset, dear.  I didn’t tell you where we were going.  Had you dressed like I am now for your job, I would’ve been surprised.  In fact, I would’ve questioned whether or not you were the same person that I just met a few days ago.  Besides, I think your outfit is cute.  It’s exactly as you are: artistic.  In the end, we dress as who we feel we are.  I’m guessing though that there’s a part of you that you don’t even know about yet.  So we’re going to find out if I’m right tonight.”

 

My cheeks burned with a blush and I turned away from her. “I think that you’re kind of barking up the wrong tree really.”  I don’t know where the embarrassment came from.  A sudden urge to crawl under a rock tickled the back of my mind.  “I’m really not as fascinating as you’re hoping.  Not unless you just like talking about art at least.”

 

“But I do like talking about art and I’ve been enthralled with you since we got together earlier this afternoon,” Sophia patted the couch.  “Come here and sit down.  Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

 

Reluctantly, I walked over and plopped down beside her, feeling terribly out of place.  I looked like a bum and she looked like a celebrity.   “Thanks,” My voice was weak so I tried to focus on something that I had some superiority in or at least, enough background to talk about without stuttering.  “Did you hang that painting you bought?”

 

“As a matter of fact, I did. I put it in my bedroom above the bed.  I got it reframed though.  My room has a theme so I kept with it.”

 

“Oh?  I hope it was a dark wood… I was trying to maintain a theme there.”

 

“Yeah, it’s dark wood.” Sophia put her arm over the back of the couch, her hand hovering inches from the back of my neck.  I could feel the proximity as it raised the hairs just slightly and not in the unpleasant way that I would’ve expected.  “It’s lovely.  I can’t believe that you let it go for so cheap.”

 

“Well, maybe the people who go into the book store just don’t have your taste.” I tried a joke; it’d been a long time since I had done that.   Her smile seemed to indicate that I wasn’t as rusty as I thought.

 

“Indeed.  Most people don’t stop to look around and see what they’ve got right in front of their eyes, do they?”  Sophia was staring into my eyes now and while I knew I should feel uncomfortable, all that I could think about was how captivating her gaze was.  Another thought jumped unbidden into my head, a question about my orientation.

 

I had never dated before.  I was a virgin to every level of intimacy.  I doubt they’d let me out of the bullpen let alone for the chance to get to any base.  But here I was in a situation that I realized was very much a date.  She wasn’t asking me to hang out.  We weren’t going bowling or to watch rentals.  Sophia was taking me to a fancy restaurant… she was wowing me with her finances.  Wasn’t this what men did to get chicks in bed?  Perhaps it all should’ve been disturbing but rather than uneasy I was… excited.  I hoped that my instincts were right.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Sophia nearly purred the question, inching toward me so slowly that it was barely perceptible.

 

“I’m afraid to say.” My voice trembled and I suddenly realized how scared I was of being wrong.  If I told her and she flipped out… well, getting home would be the least of my emotional problems.

 

“You don’t have to be afraid with me.” Sophia continued her motion.  “Not unless you want to be.”

 

“You’re flirting with me.” I blurted it out as fast as I could enunciate the words.

 

“I should that was something you were thinking about a couple of hours ago.  Aren’t we a little beyond flirting here?”

 

“But why… why me?  What compelled you to… you know, pick me?  You should be able to have anyone you want and… I mean, how did you know that I would… be receptive?”

 

“If I can have anyone I want then I guess that means I want you,” Sophia was now so close I could feel her breath on my lips and the warmth of her skin against my own.  I’d never taken my eyes from hers and now mine had to be as wide as saucers.  “And I took a chance.  I had no idea if you would be interested but you were so gorgeous I had to try.  But don’t you think we’ve had enough talking?  Why don’t you kiss me already?  Do you need a written invitation?”

 

“I’ve just… I’ve never kissed anyone before.”  There was some shame in my voice but her eyes spoke of nothing but understanding. 

 

“Then I guess I’ll take all the initiative.  You can just hang on for the ride.”  The hand that lingered behind my head gently pressed at the back of my neck now, her finger tips cool against the heat that had erupted in me from this close proximity to her. 

 

I knew I could easily twist away but there was a sensation of capture in what was happening that I found thrilling.  A pang throbbed in my chest of excited pleasure and my breathing was escalated, deep and shivering.  I could feel my sex heating up and the things I longed for Sophia to do to me were surprising as they danced through my imagination like scenes from a dream.  All this and our lips hadn’t quite touched.

 

When the kiss started, the first few seconds were almost too soft to notice.  We were both holding our breath, both tense and moving in slow motion.  Then, Sophia moaned into me and the sensation was electric.  My body reacted and I reached out to put my hands on her shoulders. 

 

She coaxed my lips to part, her tongue brushing against mine and I thought I’d swoon.  I desperately fought to meet her ministrations, my own tongue moving as if brought to life from her touch.  This made the kiss more passionate and her hand left my neck to my back, pulling me against her. 

 

I wanted more from her—I wanted to feel her touch me in places that I had only touched myself before but I didn’t know how to ask and I didn’t have the nerve to suggest with motions.  As if she was reading my mind, her free hand touched my thigh, tickling up until she reached the bottom hem of my shirt.

 

Wriggling underneath it, I felt her cool fingers against the bare flesh of my flat stomach, moving up with feather light contact until she reached my bra.  Without hesitation, the hand cupped my breast, fingertips closing to pull aside the fabric and expose my hard nipple hiding beneath.

 

I lost track of myself in the kiss but was forced to break it as she began to tease my nipple with careful pinches and tickles.  My head fell back dramatically and I sucked in air as a gasp.  “My goodness,” She whispered, watching me with a glint of appreciation in her eyes. “Someone’s rather sensitive I see.”

 

“God, I never thought I would be…” I tried to whisper but it came out considerably louder.  The feelings that filled my body made it difficult to care about propriety or even decency.  Had she stripped me naked and marched me into the store in front of all those women I wouldn’t have cared so long as she continued to touch me.

 

“Don’t you think this shirt should come off, dear?  I mean, how will you try on a new dress clothed?”

 

Sophia got me at ‘don’t you’ and my hands were pulling at the shirt as though my life depended on getting rid of it.  I cast it aside and my hands fumbled in haste with the clasp of my bra, letting it go to expose my pale body for her scrutiny.

 

The look in her eyes was hungry as she moved from my waistline up to my neck, lingering for a moment on my C cup breasts.  My nipples ached for more attention but all I could do was tremble in a sense of hope that she liked what she saw.  “You’re absolutely beautiful.” Her eyes found mine and I nearly melted.  I didn’t know what to say so just smiled at her.  “But if you’re going to try on a dress, those frumpy pants…”  She hesitated. “No, not yet.  Let me give you some further incentive.”

 

Leaning down, I felt the softness of her lips as she kissed the side of my breast.  My breath caught in anticipation as she placed additional kisses up and around, avoiding my nipple tactfully but always drawing a little closer.  Just when I swore that I would be rewarded with a kiss that would once again draw a gasp, she hit me with the unexpected as her tongue lashed out and teased me with a flick.

 

“Did you like that?” Sophia asked playfully, looking up at my face.  I merely could nod, my eyes closed tightly as I struggled to maintain some sense of composure.  “Then you’ll love this.”

 

Her lips suddenly closed over my nipple and her tongue began working in circles as she began to suck.  A moan from the depths of my soul escaped my mouth, low and full of passion as my hands wrapped about the back of her neck.  She continued just up to the verge where it would start to be uncomfortable and moved to the other breast, not giving it any such prologue as the teasing kisses before.

 

Without warning, she stopped and her lips were pressed to mine, wantonly pressed with untamed passion.  Her hands began working at my pants and I tried to help her which only succeeded in ripping them. I certainly didn’t care.  We didn’t break the kiss as I arched my back and pulled my pants and underwear down at the same time, exposing the smooth contours of my virgin sex and a bare abdomen void of any traces of hair. 

 

With the pants at my ankles, her hand ran up my leg, moving swiftly.  I was terribly wet down there and when her fingers began to probe my pussy, they were immediately slick.  The initial contact from her touch sent a wild bolt of electricity through my body and it wasn’t planning on going away.  My senses were blurred; eyes unable to focus and I lost the capacity to think.  My body slumped against the couch, breaking the kiss and her lips found my neck. 

 

Her fingers danced about my sex, probing inward and teasing my clit, drawing me further along the path of release.  I was trembling, breathing heavily, lost within her and unable to do anything but enjoy her ability to draw so much out of me with just a touch.  And then, she began to rub my clit with earnest and I could no longer control myself.

 

First, it was a moan but quickly, I began to gasp with louder groans, my hands holding onto the couch as though it were a lifeline.  More and more pleasure congested in my body, building toward my head like being submersed in water, I had to hold my breath… My eyes snapped open wide and I let out a cry of pleasure as waves of orgasm splashed through my system, tearing away my energy with every ebb of sexual release that flowed from my soul. 

 

Sophia slowed as I did and finally pulled her fingers away, reaching to pull me close to her.  Eyes closed, I cuddled against her, happier than I’d ever been in my entire life.  I never imagined a person could feel so wonderful.  I think I finally figured out why people get hooked on drugs.  If it was anything like this kind of pleasure then I was certainly an addict.

 

“There, there.” Sophia cooed, kissing my forehead. “Darling Natasha… there’s a lot left to learn about yourself.  This is just the beginning.  I promise you’re in for a long ride.” 

 

Perhaps that’s the point that I should’ve become concerned.  Rapture can really cloud one’s judgment.

 

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