Mary's Innocent Passion

"A few years ago, the weatherman for KRNL, one of the TV stations here in town, was part of an expedition to Siberia. Some sort of exploration for oil or gas or something." She shrugged dismissively.

"Well, their chopper crashed and a bunch of them were killed. Only about a dozen survived, out of forty people. And their communications gear was smashed and most of their emergency supplies had been stolen.

"So the ones who were still alive ripped a door off the wreck and used it as a sled, pulling whatever they could scavenge over the ice, trying to reach safety. But it was cold and they were running out of food and they were sure they were all going to die.

"The weatherman, Bill Carter, got real bad frostbite in his feet and hands. He knew he was done for. So he walked out of the tent into the middle of a howling blizzard." Evey's voice was faintly awestruck. "He sacrificed himself so his friends could live."

"What happened?"

"Well, right after that, the ones who were left found a dead bear. So they had enough food for a while." Evey didn't sound like raw bear meat appealed to her too much. "And they somehow found some shelter. Eventually they made contact with the outside world and were rescued.

"And then, about six months later, Bill Carter showed up in this tiny village on an island not too far from where he had left the others, with a gorgeous woman with him. I'm telling you, Mary, I'm not bad looking-"

"You're a lot more than that," Mary put in.

"Why, thank you, honey," she drawled. "But seriously, Mary, this woman looks like a sex-goddess come to life. Not too tall, but she's all blond hair and curves that would make a priest curse his vows.

"It seems that she found Bill right before he was about to die and nursed him back to health. And they fell in love. So when he came back to America she came with him. He calls her the Snow Maid, and whenever there's going to be a bad storm, he asks her how much snow we're going to get and he tells everyone on his weather report. It's cute. And she's usually right."

"That's a sweet story," Mary sighed. True love did sometimes happen, it seemed.

From the window, there was a faint thump as something hit the floor. Rebecca sat up, rubbing her head. "Ow," she said. "I fell over." She blinked sleepily. "I'm tired, Mommy."

"All right, sweetheart." Nearby, Debbie was curled up on her side, already asleep. She looked outside at the spinning snowflakes and considered the three -- no, four -- glasses of wine she had drunk. She really didn't feel like getting the girls back into their coats and driving home through the storm.

Especially when she had nothing to look forward to when she got there but a cold, hard, lonely bed.

"Does that offer still stand?" she asked quietly. "Because I'm not sure if you want to deal with my girls in the morning."

In answer, Evey kissed her cheek. "You can't scare me."

*****

They carried the girls upstairs and put them to bed in one of her spare bedrooms, using some of her old t-shirts as makeshift nightgowns for the girls. Evey was reduced to giggles at the sight of Rebecca holding up the hem, which reached down past her feet, as she brushed her teeth and washed her hands and face.

She watched as Mary kissed the girls goodnight and pulled the blanket over their quiet forms, the gesture filled with so much love and tenderness her heart nearly broke.

"I'm glad to be out of that dress," she said as they walked back downstairs. She had changed out of her dress and into a comfortable bathrobe she had bought back when she was still in college. "I don't mind getting dressed up, but this is so much better on a cold night."

"You still look lovely," Mary said. She had borrowed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and looked, to Evey's eyes, like a college freshman ready for a long weekend.

"Thanks, babe," she said casually.

She sat on the couch with a relieved sigh, then sighed again, much more happily, as Mary snuggled up next to her. Her blood heated as her warm, pliant body curled against hers.

She raised a hand to capture a lock of her hair, as fine as silk. She ran it through her fingers over and over.

Closing her eyes, she whispered a prayer.

"Where do you come from, Mary? And what are you running from?"

The younger woman gasped, her body tensing beside her. Evey was very careful to keep her body calm and relaxed. Any effort to try to control her, she knew, would only result in Mary becoming more panicked.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want," she said quietly. "But I care for you a great deal. And if you want a future with me, I need to know the truth."

"I've never lied to you," the younger woman protested.

"I'm sure you haven't. But you've kept a lot hidden. And that's your right. I won't push you. But I'd like to know. Just to help you protect Rebecca and Deborah, if for no other reason."

In the firelight, she saw Mary's lips trembling. "Will you..." she whispered. "Will you still be my friend after I tell you? Because...oh, God, Eveline!" she covered her face with her hands. "Some of it is awful."

"If you can bear to say it," she replied quietly, "I can bear to hear it."

Mary smiled at her, though there was no happiness in the expression. "You might change your mind, after you hear this." She suddenly looked much older than her true age, as if two or three decades had flashed by in an instant.

"I was born and raised in the compound, in Utah. Until a year and a half ago, I barely knew the outside world existed.

"My parents...I don't know. I caught a few hints, here and there, that they had been wealthy before they fell under his spell."

"Whose spell?"

"Brother Ezekiel." She shuddered, a convulsive movement that seemed to wrench at her bones. "That's what he called himself. The leader of the Church of the Holy Death and the Fiery Resurrection. A cult obsessed with sin and damnation.

"I don't know how he and my parents met. But by the time I was born they had sold all their property and moved into the compound. I was born there and raised there. Taught to follow their rules. That women were inferior creatures who should be completely under the control of men. That any disobedience was to be punished immediately. That the laws of man could not be set above the laws of God."

She smiled bitterly. "And that only one man could interpret the laws of God: Brother Ezekiel Branford. He and his toadies ruled us all with an iron fist. The women were their toys, to be used, traded, and thrown away, like children with a set of action figures."

"My God." Evey swallowed sickly. "Didn't anyone know? Neighbors? Or the police?"

"There were no neighbors. We were up in the mountains, twenty miles away from the nearest paved road.

"I think the police knew. But they never did a damn thing. When you have the resources of dozens of converts to draw on, it's easy to find enough money to pay off the cops. And if someone does poke around too much, well, Utah is full of places where you can hide a corpse. I've seen it happen.

"Judith," she said to Evey's shocked silence. "She made the mistake of fighting when Ezekiel gave her to Brother Jeremiah. They stoned her to death in the middle of the compound, and forced the women to watch."

"How did you escape?"

A long silence fell. "Brother Ezekiel had his eyes on me since I was eleven years old," Mary said at last. "He demanded my parents give me to him as a tithe on my fourteenth birthday. In payment, he said, of his allowing them to stay in the compound.

"I think my mother wanted to argue, but was afraid. My father," she said, her voice full of loathing, "would have done anything that monster said at that point. Every day he woke up expecting Ezekiel to take up the mantle of lordship, and scour the nation clean with a fiery sword." Her lips curled in mocking contempt.

"So I left my parent's building and moved in with Ezekiel and the rest of his co-wives. And I lost my virginity to him less than an hour later.

"The next three years were a nightmare. I was forced to wait on that...that pig of a man like a slave. No humiliation was too small. I won't tell you all the things he made me do, or how many times he raped me. I tell you the truth, Eveline. I would rather be dead, and my children with me, than spend one more day under that man's roof.

"Rebecca was born when I was sixteen. I was pregnant again barely a year later, with Debbie. My mother went on and on about how fortunate I was to bear Ezekiel's children, until I wanted to claw her eyes out.

"And then one day, I heard Ezekiel talking with some of the other men." Her hand clutched Evey's, her fingers cold as ice. "They were...they were deciding which of them Becca would go to when she was older! When she wasn't even out of diapers yet!

"I decided that day I would be dead before I let my baby live the life I had been forced to. I would cut Ezekiel's fat throat, I would burn the compound down around me, I would drive a car off a cliff with Becca beside me, but I would not let that happen. My children would grow up free.

"So a few nights later I packed some clothes, took enough money to last me a few months, stole a car, and drove away. The gate guards were asleep, I guess, or I would never have made it out. Ezekiel was always terrified of the FBI coming to get him, and had the place guarded like an armed camp." She snorted derisively. "As if that sad bunch of losers could have held off anyone for more than five minutes. I still did some pretty good damage to the front end of the car when I rammed through the gate, though.

"I drove to Des Moines, paying for everything in cash. By the time I got here, I thought I had run far enough. I got an apartment, bought some furniture at the Salvation Army, and waited for Deborah to arrive. Once she did, I got a job waiting tables." She shrugged. "The rest you know. I'm trying to get my high school equivalency certificate. When I do, I can get a better job. And my children will never be forced to endure what I did." Her voice grew harsh. "And they will never know who their father is."

"My God," Eveline breathed. "You incredible, amazing, wonderful woman." She sniffled, wiping at the tears which were running unashamedly down her cheeks. "I thought you were just learning algebra? Fuck, Mary, for the last two years you've been learning how to be human.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling her close in an embrace. "I am so, so sorry. I thought...I thought you were someone who had made mistakes when you were younger. I never imagined...

"You are the bravest person I have ever met in my life."

Mary shook her head. "I just wanted my babies to have a better life than I did."

"They will," Evey promised. "And don't talk like your life is over. You're hardly a dried-up old maid right now. In fact," she went on, her hand cupping her cheek, "you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Really?" Mary teased. "What about that Snow Maid of yours?"

"Well, she's not mine, more's the pity," Evey replied, playing along. "And she's not here now, is she? And even if she was," she said, her voice dropping low, "I'd still rather be with you.

"Will you be my lover, Mary?"

The younger woman looked down at her lap, where her hands were clenched tight. "I don't..." she looked up, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. "I don't know what to do."

"Of course you do," she corrected gently. She ran a hand up from her waist until it grazed the swelling mound of her breast. "The body knows what it wants. Trust it.

"Upstairs?" she asked. "Or down here?"

Mary glanced at the fireplace, and all at once Evey saw a thousand dreams reflected in her eyes. "Oh," she said, waggling her eyebrows outrageously. "It's like that, huh? Well, don't ever say I didn't have a romantic side."

She stood up and extended her hand. Mary took it, her fingers trembling in her grip. She guided her around the coffee table until they were in front of the fireplace. Kneeling on the bear-skin rug, she looked up at the blond-haired woman. A sense of wonder filled her, and also of nervousness. All of her previous lovers had been experienced. With Mary, she felt the weight of a vast responsibility settle on her shoulders.

I have to do this right. All she has known is rape and abuse.

Her turn. As long as she wants it will be her turn.

"I love you," she said softly. "So don't be afraid. Just relax and take your time. We have all night long."

With a muffled thump, Mary's knees hit the rug. Knee to knee, breast to breast, face to face, their bodies were just a few inches away from each other.

"Oh, Eveline," she whispered. "I love you, too."

And Mary kissed her with a pent-up force that was like the breaking of a dam when the flood-waters burst through.

Passionate but tender, innocent but wise, her mouth tasted of wine and desire. Her arms slipped around her, holding her gently. Evey groaned into her mouth as her hands moved down her back to knead her buttocks through the material of her bathrobe. Inside the robe, her body caught fire. Her nipples tightened into hard points on her chest, and her skin flushed, hot blood showing proof of her arousal.

Patience, she told herself. She ached to take control, to pull off Mary's clothes, to feast on her delectable body, to spread her legs and lick her to climax. But she somehow knew that Mary needed time. Time to gather her courage. Time to trust her own body's needs. Time to become not just an object to be used for Evey's own pleasure, but a true partner.

She opened her mouth in invitation, and Mary caught her hint, licking her lips sweetly, then exploring her mouth with her tongue. Evey moaned, their breath mingling, as the darting tip drew along the insides of her lips.

She felt a tug at the belt of her robe, and looked down. Mary's hands were undoing the knot. As she looked back up, Mary dropped her eyes.

"Is this all right?" she asked hesitantly. "I want..." Her voice faltered, then firmed as she looked up again. "I want to see you naked. All of you."

She smiled into her eyes. "Baby, that's exactly what I want." She sighed as the knot came loose and the warm glow of the fire caressed her fevered skin. Mary spread open her robe, her eyes widening.

"Oh, God, Eveline. You're so beautiful." Her throat worked as she swallowed. "I knew, even when I was in the compound, that I didn't like men. That I wanted women. But I was taught that made me sinful. Evil. So I had to hide it. I had to pretend that I was like the other women.

"I did it so well Brother Ezekiel believed me. The names he used to call me. It got him...excited. Slut. Cunt. Whore." She began to shake, then buried her head in Eveline's shoulder and cried.

"Shhh," Evey said, stroking her back as the woman sobbed. "You're with me now. You're safe. I'll never let anyone hurt you again." In her mind, she devised a thousand torments for the bastard who had tortured this remarkable woman, each more inventive and painful than the last.

After a few minutes, Mary stopped shaking. Evey felt her lips kiss her shoulder, then drift lower. She caught her breath as one of her hands slid from her waist upwards toward her breast. Still hidden by the blond cloud of her hair, her head worked lower and lower, her mouth shyly exploring.

"That's it, baby," she encouraged her. She rocked back on her heels, then slowly sank to the rug, lying on her back. Her robe gaped open, and the firelight flickered over her skin. Mary came with her, drawn down by her hand on her wrist. Her lips moved toward Evey's aching, turgid nipple, then paused, making her want to scream.

She doesn't know, she reminded herself.

"Kiss it," she urged. "You're making me feel so gooood." Her words turned into a groan of pleasure as Mary's mouth fastened on her throbbing nipple. She arched her back up and laced her hands around the back of Mary's neck, forcing more of her breast into her lover's hot, questing mouth.

Mary licked her, the pad of her tongue scraping across the tender skin of her aereolae. She squeezed her eyes shut as delicious feelings tore through her body. She could feel the heat growing between her legs, and the lips of her pussy getting hot and slippery as they were flooded with moisture. Almost unconsciously, she spread her thighs invitingly.

Mary hovered above her, moving her head from one breast to the other, while her hands slowly stroked and caressed her skin. She hefted the round weight of her breasts in her hands, inspecting them closely, sweetly touching them. It was so tender, so intimate, so pure and innocent that it made Evey want to cry. But under her quickly-learning touch was the drive of her desire. A desire that could not be quenched or set aside. A desire that demanded she satisfy her lover, and be satisfied in return.

She lifted her head. "You've got gorgeous breasts, Evey."

"You don't think they're too big?" She palmed one in one hand, smiling as the jiggling movement drew Mary's eyes.

She shook her head. "No. I think they're beautiful."

"Good. One of my roommates in college used to say that more than a handful was wasted. But as far as I'm concerned, she was so full of crap she squeaked." She stroked her cheek, smiling as Mary leaned into the caress. "What do you want to do next?"

"I..." she looked down at her. "I want to make you feel good. To..."

"To come? It's okay to say it, you know. It's not wrong."

She grinned wickedly. "And I want to come, too." She grasped Mary's hand and placed it at her entrance, enjoying how her eyes widened as her fingers gingerly touched her lips for the first time.

"How do I...?"

"Like this," she replied, easing her legs farther open. With the motion, her nether-lips parted. Almost without volition, one of Mary's fingers slipped into her channel, and she whimpered.

"Are you all right?"

"No. I'm fantastic," she whispered. She pulled her wrist higher. "Touch me. There. Softly. Stroke it. Can you feel it, darling? How wet I am for you? How hot you make me? Yes." She threw her head back as a jolt of pleasure raced through her. "That's it. There's my button." Her thighs began to tremble.

Mary lay down beside her. In the firelight, her eyes were wide. She kissed her again, Evey moaning into her mouth, caught between the lovely feelings at her mouth and groin. She slowly pumped her hips up into Mary's hand, increasing and lowering the pressure on her clit. Her finger traced slow circles around it, then brushed across.

"Damn," she breathed, as Mary left her mouth and returned to suckling her breasts. "You're good. So good. And you're only going to get better, sweetheart."

"I'm just trying to touch you how I like to be touched down there," Mary said. Evey filed that comment away for later use with a smile. With sudden confidence she rose above her. One hand stayed at her gates, rubbing her pearl of pleasure. The other cupped her breast, her thumb dancing around her turgid nipple. Her mouth went from breast to Evey's mouth to breast again, kissing wherever she could reach, even the line of her jaw, her ears, her nose, her shoulders.

"I want you to do it," she panted hoarsely. She scraped strands of her blond hair away from her flushed cheeks. "I want you to come. I want you to come for me!"

The pressure on her clit increased, becoming almost painful, and Evey squirmed away slightly.

"Easy," she whispered, catching Mary's crestfallen look. "You can't force an orgasm, babe. Trust me on that one. Just keep it nice and slow and gentle, and you'll have me screaming your name in a few minutes. There we go," she cooed approvingly as Mary resumed her stroking, her fingers again light and loving on her most tender parts.