For Better Or Worse by Jodi Payne

“What time are we supposed to be there?” I look at my watch.
    “I think Anna said seven.”
    “Are you sure it was seven? I think she might have said seven-thirty.”
    “Gail.” Julie looks in the mirror at me. “Why do you always question my answers? If you don’t want to accept what I tell you then, for God’s sake, don’t ask me.”
    Well, yeah, Julie’s right. She’s always right. Why do I question her answers? Habit, I guess. But I do like the look on her face when she gets annoyed with me. Her eyes flash, her shoulders straighten and she becomes peacock-like in her stature. All that lovely Taurus stubbornness turns her into a fiery goddess commanding my respect and attention.
    And she’s got it, damn her; it’s not even worth trying to reply. I walk towards her dressing table where she sits putting on her make-up. She’s chosen a green satin shirt to wear to dinner, and it’s one of my favorites. I love the way satin hangs on her, hugging her shoulders and gently falling over her firm, round breasts. I stand behind her and meet her eyes in the mirror. “This shirt makes your eyes look like emeralds,” I tell her, wondering if I really want to go to this dinner party at all. I’d much rather stay home and admire Julie.
    I stroke the back of her neck with my fingers and I can see the gooseflesh rise there as she gasps.
    “That tickles!” She grins at me.
    I bend over and press my lips to the very same spot and she sighs.
    “Gail, what are you doing?”
    I don’t answer her with words. I pull the collar of her shirt back and move my lips to the newly exposed skin.
    “Gail, don’t. We have to leave soon.”
    “Let’s not go.” I whisper, running my lips up the side of her neck to her earlobe.
    “Gail! Anna is expecting us.” Julie pauses, make-up brush in hand.
    “Let’s stay home.” I slide my hands under her arms and around to fondle her breasts, cupping them easily, one in each palm. She gasps lightly as I rub my thumbs over the place where I know her still-soft nipples lie beneath her bra and I try to coax more out of her, nipping gently at her ear.
    “Gail…”
    For all of her stubbornness, Julie is easily seduced. It takes little to win a sigh from her and little more before she moans for me. My fingers work their way down her shirt, unbuttoning it slowly as they go, then sliding back up the open lapels to slip the heavy fabric off her shoulders, exposing porcelain white skin covered in pale, red-brown freckles. I taste her skin with my tongue and teeth. I pull her arms back behind her and undo the buttons at her wrists so that her shirt can slide freely to the floor.
    Julie moans. “Mm, Gail.” Her use of my name is no longer in protest but in encouragement.
    Leaving her lacy black bra in place for the moment, I spend some time unfastening the clasp on her pants and lowering the delicate zipper. She turns her head to the side and we kiss. She tastes like her favorite lemon ginger tea. Her tongue is warm and yielding and I circle it with mine, feeling that luscious wetness seeping between my legs, warming and softening my labia.
    I pull the clip out of her hair and it tumbles around her shoulders in thick unruly red curls. I give it a tug and she sighs. I slide my hands around her bare middle, down her thighs, and then back up again. Julie hums contentment at me. I slip my fingers under the gentle elastic of her panties and she leans back against my chest.
    “Yes, Gail.”
    I flick my eyes up to the mirror to watch her as my fingers slip over her vulva. She bites her lip. I press my middle finger past her labia until it encounters her deepest desire, wet and slippery, warm and inviting. I douse my fingers in it before sliding them up to stroke her clit.
    Julie pants as I slide my fingers over and around the firm nob there. I’m watching her in the mirror still, taking in her furrowed brow, her open mouth framed in deep red lipstick, watching her abs expand and collapse as she