Lizard
I called her Lizard, and she was a lizard to me — a nimble lizard, emerging from the colorful crowd in the subway to hug me in the center of the hall; a nimble lizard whose fingers slipped under my trouser belt, driving me crazy; a prehistoric reptile writhing in my embrace.
I met her in April in the city park, basking in the first warm rays. Her hand with a pencil sometimes lazily skimmed across the sketchbook page and then froze; in her slightly squinted gaze — a Mesozoic pensiveness. I wasn't quite human when I stepped off the asphalt onto the sprouting grass and sat down beside her; I was guided by a more ancient feeling — the one that must have driven the first males in the world to the first females long before the Cenozoic. This feeling was so ancient that language was unnecessary for it, and I remained silent; then Lizard, surveying me with her otherworldly eyes, murmured: "Draw you?"
Lizard was nearby, drawing wonderful pictures and denied me nothing, yet I couldn't understand what I was jealous of her for. That's how it sounded in my head — what, not whom. Not of the Mesozoic era, surely?
We had known each other for about three months when I invited her to keep me company at Jenny's birthday party, my former classmate and good friend. There was red wine, and white wine, and whiskey, and some sweet strong liqueur with an unpronounceable name… By one in the morning, the guests had dispersed, but Lizard and I stayed — we were comfortable, and I knew our company didn't bother Jenny.
"Someone put on some music, I want to dance!" Lizard requested in a ringing, drunken voice. Jenny dragged over a laptop, and something slow began to play, something Eastern, it seemed, with a languid female vocal. "Will someone join me?" Lizard offered, but the hostess and I, tipsy and relaxed, settled on the sofa, and Lizard began alone. Her hips, clad in tight jeans, rolled smoothly, her chestnut hair flowed over her shoulders. Shedding her fleece, she was left in a tiny top, and I watched with pleasure as her slender waist swayed to the music's rhythm, reflecting the soft, muted light of the tall floor lamp.
"I can't see well!" Jenny demanded with a laugh, "Come closer!"
Lizard smiled with a surprisingly meek expression and, without interrupting her dance, approached my friend. Her hands still moved lightly and smoothly around her body, and her hips still swayed, but now I saw: she was dancing for Jenny.
"Still can't see well," the spectator smirked, "Probably the top is in the way."
"Is this better?" Lizard responded, pulling the black scrap of fabric over her head. Her bra was also black, lacy.
"Let's see. Dance."
The jeans followed the bra, and soon Lizard was writhing before us in just her underwear, her drunken black eyes gleaming… My girlfriend was being made to undress right before my eyes, but I didn't want to intervene and stop it — what was happening was beautiful and, let's be honest, arousing.
"Come over here now," demanded Jenny, who was also clearly turned on by this unexpected game.
Lizard obediently took a couple of steps forward and froze with an utterly unreadable expression in her eyes. Jenny confidently wrapped an arm around her waist and sat her on her lap. A moment — and her palm slid into the cup of the black bra, squeezing the small nipple so familiar to me. Lizard moaned softly, throwing her head back and biting her pink, full lip.
"Take this little rag off you?" Jenny asked in a teasing voice.
"Y-yes, please," Lizard immediately responded in a husky, melting whisper.
Breath, catching into moans, filled the room as Jenny's hands, freeing my girlfriend's breasts, began to gently caress them.
"Seems I haven't touched everything here yet," and confident fingers slid into Lizard's panties. She gasped softly and pressed herself against Jenny.
I could no longer just watch this — my hand slid on its own to the zipper on my jeans… Jenny, seeing this, laughed merrily.
"You seem too selfish, sweet girl," she addressed Lizard. "Both I and your friend are overdressed. Do something about that, and quickly!"
My sweet girl's slender and nimble hands deftly ran over the buttons on Jenny's shirt; then Lizard slid to the floor and, kneeling before Jenny, quickly dealt with the zipper of her trousers; then came the bra clasps. Left in just her panties, Jenny stood up abruptly, and Lizard, looking up at her, slowly pulled down that lacy white scrap… I tried to catch her gaze, but she was only looking at the sight unfolding before her — not at all how she usually looked at me…
"I'd love to feel your little tongue right here right now," Jenny purred languidly, "But you still have something else to do."
Lizard stood up and came to me; she undressed me with unusual skill, and when her warm fingers seemed to accidentally brush against the crimson, swollen head of my cock, a languid, hot wave rolled through my body. I pressed her to me with all my strength; my throbbing member pressed against her stomach, and it felt very good, but I wanted more, wanted inside, deeper…
"Come here, beauty!" Jenny called impatiently, sitting on the sofa with her legs spread wide, and the sexy reptile somehow slipped incomprehensibly from my embrace. A moment — and she was on her knees before Jenny, her little tongue flying around the other's red clitoris, and Jenny, throwing her head back, moaned long and lewdly.
My fingers wrapped around my cock, swollen with unbearable desire, on their own, when the birthday girl, surfacing for a second from her sweet nirvana, called to me:
"And why is no one fucking my tender girl, huh? She's trying so hard!"
I didn't need a second invitation. I immediately pulled off Lizard's last item of clothing — her panties, soaked through — and ran my index finger around her oozing hole. My cock remembered the way further perfectly, but it seemed I had never entered my girlfriend's welcoming womb with such acute pleasure before. Warm, sweet moisture seemed to envelop me… I only saw Lizard compliantly swaying her ass in time with my movements, yet not breaking away from Jenny's appetizing clitoris. I fucked her deep and fast, and quiet cries escaped her lips, and the birthday girl breathed deeper and deeper…
I thought it couldn't happen, but we all came at the same time.
The next morning, of course, brought a hangover; Lizard, emerging from bed first, brought Jenny and me paracetamol and water to wash it down.
"Listen, about yesterday…" Jenny began uncertainly.
"Shh," Lizard interrupted her with a smile, pressing a finger first to her own lips, then to the hostess's lips, then to mine. And we agreed with her without words and never mentioned what happened again. It remained our little secret for the three of us.
***
I was very nervous when it was time to introduce Lizard to my mom. They seemed so different to me — a strict, fit fifty-year-old businesswoman and my young, creative, flexible girl. But the dinner went surprisingly well. "She's so sweet and cheerful!" my mom told me with a smile afterward.
However, with the arrival of autumn, there was less cheer in Lizard. The colder it got outside, the more often I caught a kind of melancholy, irritated anxiety in her gaze. When I asked her about it, she answered evasively at first, but then confessed that she had very bad relations with her family. On warm days, she drew in the city center and parks and only returned home when it got completely dark. "But it's so cold now," she sobbed, "And it gets dark very early."
The solution was very simple — three days later, Lizard moved in with me and my mom, her hiking backpack tightly packed.
How good we were that first month! We drank tea together in the evenings, all three of us, and exchanged funny stories. We watched movies together. Lizard and I fell asleep together in one bed.
And then… And then I came home from work earlier than usual and opened the door familiar to me since childhood at the wrong time. Lizard was sitting on my mother's lap in white lace underwear. Mom's office blouse was unbuttoned. The women were kissing passionately, mom with her eyes closed, and Lizard with hers open… with that very gaze I had seen back then at Jenny's place. And this time, I finally understood the obvious — how could I have missed it! Lizard never looked at me, or at any other man, like that — only at women. Only women excited her instinctively, animalistically — only with them did she become that very female, craving to copulate — that was the source of her Mesozoic melancholy…
For about five seconds, I watched this scene in silence, then swore under my breath. Lizard turned around — monstrously slowly for such a moment. Mom screamed.
For a while, we said nothing. My mother looked at me, and the lust on her face was hastily replaced by shame and panic. And Lizard looked right through me, looked and did not see. In her eyes, ancient fish still thrashed their tails and dinosaurs roared.