RR Vignettes #5 Samantha Beaurmont - Chapter 5 (Patreon)

RR Vignettes #5 - Samantha Beaurmont

Chapter 5 - Meeting Morgan

[2010-03-06]

“This…is your house?” Samantha asked in awe.

“Yup!” Brittany bounced up the last step of the porch and slid her key into the door. “Well no, I fibbed.  It’s actually Morgan’s house but she lets me live here with her.”

“That’s really nice of her.” Samantha said, mouth agape as she admired the estate.  The houses on Laurier were nice, of course. But this one made the others look like cardboard boxes.

“Oh, yeah…she’s a sweetheart.” Brittany had started to insert her house key but suddenly decided that she’d need to add more to that sentence, if for no other reason than to prep her guest.  “..but a lot of other people don’t see what I see in her.” Brittany pushed the heavy door open.

“I think you’ll be able to see it like I do.”

Hardwood floor stretched like a deep cocoa ocean and the plentiful area rugs were lush, expensive-looking safety rafts, promising that a vulnerable bare sole wouldn’t have to touch the chilly wood for more than a step or two.

An elegant archway hovered over Samantha’s head, too high for her to reach even on her tippy toes.  It elaborated on the luxury that Brittany had only hinted upon earlier and accented the entrance in ways that only an experienced architect could have articulated. Still standing in the doorway, Samantha noticed two curious stacks of footwear on either side of her.

On the right was a colorful variation of flip flops, sandals, flats, sneakers, and boots.  All were immaculately arranged along the wall, toes uniformly kissing the dark trim of the wall as if they were standing for a military inspection.

“God, I’ve been walking around way too much today.” Brittany slid her feet out of her sneakers, revealing a cute pair of pale pink ankle socks with purple hearts scattered randomly over the tops and bottoms. The socks looked super soft and appropriately thick for the cold weather, taking on the appearance of a brand new pair being worn for the first time.  She carefully used her feet to align the discarded shoes perfectly with a neighboring pair of sky blue sneakers.  “Morgan wanted wine but the liquor stores are closed and most of the house parties only had beer.” To Samantha’s left was another pile–and “pile” really was the best word for it.  The messy, chaotic stack of shoes and boots were not nearly as colorful, nor as neatly arranged, as the footwear on the right side.  Each set was so plain and muted, as if they were happy to go unnoticed while being worn.

“You can put yours over here next to mine.” Brittany said, gesturing toward her lined up footwear at the door. “It might be the last you see of your sneakers if they get lost in Morgan’s pile.”

Samantha hesitated and Brittany quickly added. “Unless you wanna keep your shoes on!  I only took mine off because my feet are hot and sore.”

“If it’s okay…” Samantha had never in her entire life had any problems with foot odor but her self-confidence was at an all-time low standing here in this strange house. She didn’t want to take any chances.

“Of course it’s okay!” Brittany rubbed Samantha’s shoulder.

Feeling the blonde’s palm against her sleeve reminded Samantha that the hoodie she wore was not her own. Brittany accepted the zip-up hoodie back from Samantha and draped it over one of the chairs as the two passed through the kitchen toward the living room.  “You looked so great in that hoodie.  I think you need one of your own just like it.”

Samantha smiled, appreciating the positive attention, especially from someone as pretty as Brittany!  Despite her stunning good looks, beautiful clothing, and objectively captivating curves, the girl was not without a stark flaw.  Her head was often in the clouds and she had a tendency to not always pay the most attention to where her feet were taking her.  The bubbly blonde was speaking high praises to Samantha’s appearance, her head completely turned toward Samantha.  Samantha’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to warn Brittany but it was too late.

Oof!

Brittany had collided with another girl walking toward the two of them.

It felt as if the lights dimmed and the air chilled

She was slightly taller than Brittany and she towered over Samantha, yet she appeared to weigh less than both of them. Was this…her?

Unlike Brittany’s designer jeans that likely came pre-torn for the sake of conforming to the fashion of the time, the tears and holes in this angry girl’s faded tight jeans were clearly earned with time and effort. Glimpses of her ghostly white thighs peeked out through the frayed denim, practically casting a glare upon Samantha’s nervous face.

If this was her, Samantha could completely understand Justin’s fear.

Her slate-gray, worn and threadbare zip-up hoodie probably wouldn’t have even fit Samantha and it definitely would not have fit Brittany; at least not in the chest area. Thumbs with deep black nail polish poked out of deliberate holes in the hoodie sleeve cuffs.  The muted color of the gray hoodie abruptly shifted to porcelain pale above her elegant, thin neck but only to around her dark eyebrows where her knit beanie started.

Her brilliant green irises were pretty, if not intimidating, but her eyelids had hung lazily as if she was wearing an expression of perpetual boredom and indifference. That was before the crash, now her expression was that of ignited gasoline on a frigid, frozen lake. It felt as if those eyes were pulling the light out of the room and her anger was chilling the air. Deep ebony hair peeked out the bottom of the beanie, concealing her ears and caressing her well-defined jawline.

Samantha’s core tightened and her butt cheeks clenched, as if subconsciously protecting the defenseless man in her bottom from this unknown fear.

It was the girl she’d heard so much about.

It was Brittany’s roommate.

It was Morgan.

“Ahh, Morgey!” Brittany tilted her head in confusion. “You’re all dressed up in your outside clothes.  Are ya goin’ somewhere?”

“Seriously? Are we back in Elementary School again? Enough of the ‘Morgey’ stuff.” Morgan’s nose flared slightly, causing the small piercing in her nostril to catch a short-lived glimmer from the overhead light fixtures. “You were gone for nearly two hours, I was going out to look f–”

Brittany interrupted Morgan with a gasp.  “Wait, wait!”  The blonde touched a hand to her own chest, an ear-to-ear grin on her face.  “You were coming out to find me cause you were worried about me! Weren’t ya? You were worried about your buddy Brittany!”

“Shut up!” Morgan’s beat-up converse sneakers launched across the room, propelled by two feet clad in black and gray socks. They landed with an explosive impact in the mess of footwear at the door as if they were two powder-blue grenades going off. “I was NOT worried about you; I wanted wine and was getting tired of waiting.  It’s whatever now though..since I know you didn’t spend all that time out only to come back without any.”

“See didn’t I tell you?” Brittany announced proudly to Samantha, hugging Morgan.  “She’s just a big softie, really.”

Morgan crossed her arms over her chest, as if to protect herself from Brittany’s kindness.  “Great segue, Brittany.  Who in the hell is this and why is she here?”

Samantha involuntarily flinched, and the flexing of her tightly packed cheeks passed a flinch onto the little man still buried deep in her bottom.  It was a long walk and even though the weather was cold, the constant friction had made things a little slippery down there for him. It wasn’t getting any better either, not with her heart racing the way it was! Samantha would have normally done something to improve his situation but all of her focus needed to be on the situation at hand.  He could wait.  He could always wait.

“Oh, this is Samantha, but you can call her Sammi if you want.  That’s what I’ve been doing!  She’s our new friend that I met at one of the house parties.”

“Our friend?” Morgan scoffed, squinting her eyes suspiciously and looking her up and down.  “You were at a house party?  You don’t look like the type.” Samantha felt like she was shrinking under Morgan’s judgmental, inspecting gaze. She could feel her face getting warm so she broke eye contact with Morgan, looking down at her feet.

Unlike Brittany’s thick, cozy and new-looking socks, Morgan’s looked old and treasured.  Long and slender, moonlight-pale toes adorned with a black nail polish matching her fingernails were clearly visible through the stretched material.

“You’re right, Morgan!” Brittany said.  “Sammi here is not the type for one of those dinky parties.  She’s so much cooler than that. That’s why I brought her back here to hang out with us….and maybe play a little Truth and Dare?”

“My god, Brittany. Enough with the Truth or D–”

“--you said that you need at least three people, right?  Samantha is like…a professional at truth or dare.”

“What?” Samantha mouthed to Brittany, who tried her absolute best to wink back at Samantha.

Morgan’s response and expression were ice.  “You were supposed to bring back wine, not awkward little strangers for little kid games.”

“Oh, about that…” Brittany said, sucking in air through her pristine white teeth.  “I..uhh…didn’t see any wine out there.” She reached into her clinking handbag and pulled out two bottles of Malibu, the same bottles that Samantha had seen go missing at the party.  “But this is just as good, right?”

“So you brought a girl who won’t even look us in the eye for longer than five seconds at a time…and no wine.  Great.” Morgan rolled her eyes, speaking as if Samantha wasn’t even there. Samantha flinched again, feeling her face flush.  She felt ready to cry. “It’s okay…I can go.  I’m sorry to intrude.” Samantha stammered.

Morgan sighed in exasperation and her hands settled atop Samantha’s shoulders. “Oh, my god.  No pity parties. You’re here now, just sit down.” Samantha yelped as Morgan’s shove, a smidge stronger than it needed to be, sent the timid brunette plopping down on the “L” shaped couch behind her.  Once again, she was grateful that her subject was so good with remaining still and secure in the depths of her crack.  Had he been plastered against either of her cheeks, he almost certainly would have flattened or popped.

“No more stray puppies, Brittany.” Morgan cautioned as she removed her beanie and sweatshirt. “This is the first and last one.” Underneath the gray hoodie was an actual color instead of a shade.

Crimson red. It looked striking on her.

The plaid shirt reminded Samantha of lumberjacks and while Morgan didn’t quite match the burly physique of a lumberjack with her paper-white and skinny forearms peeking out of the folded-up sleeves, she certainly had the tough personality of one.

“Deal!” Brittany exclaimed, clapping her hands like a child that was just granted permission to keep a new toy.  She bounced her heels on the hardwood floor, and her breasts bounced in her low-cut blouse. Brittany hastily pushed a large bowl of snacks on the coffee table toward Samantha, nearly knocking the entire bowl on the floor at Samantha’s shoes. “These are sour cream & onion…mine and Morgan’s fave.  Do you like them?”

Samantha’s stomach was doing somersaults; no way she could even think about food right now!  She would have loved to break off a tiny piece to feed her subject, seeing as he literally had not eaten all day, but there was no way she’d get away with that, not with both girls watching her.

“Uhh…maybe a little bit later.”

“Okay! I have pretzels, too!  And doritos!  I’ll bring everything out and–”

“--Brittany, chill out. If she wants pretzels, she can ask for them.  She’s a big girl. Just get the glasses from the kitchen…and leave one of the bottles here.”

Brittany locked her feet together side-by-side and offered up her best salute but she looked more like a child imitating a soldier than a soldier herself. “Yes, ma’am!” She then presented Morgan with the more-full of the two bottles of Malibu liquor.

Samantha watched Morgan roll her eyes again as Brittany scurried out to the kitchen, the lack of traction in her pink socks against the hardwood floor nearly causing the bouncing blonde to crash as she skidded around the corner and out of view into the kitchen. Nearly the moment that Brittany left view, the kitchen came to life with an array of sounds.  Banging pots and pans, running water, and microwave beeps.

Samantha was reminded of something her mother would tell her and Candice when they were younger: ‘don’t make silly faces too much or else they’ll get stuck that way.’  Morgan must not have received the same warning as a little girl, otherwise she’d surely frown and roll her eyes less.  Unless she wanted her face to get stuck that way…

“What even is this girly crap?” Morgan asked, smelling the bottle of Malibu.  She cringed at the scent but still wrapped her lips around it and took a shot directly from the bottle. It was far too large for the cupholders installed in the armrests so she set the bottle on the coffee table.  Morgan propped her feet up on the coffee table and started digging through the couch cushions.  Samantha spotted two small holes on the bottom of Morgan’s left sock.  Why was everything she wore so old and tattered?  Living in a place like this, Samantha would expect her to be wearing clothing more expensive than Candice’s tuition.

After digging for some time, Morgan finally found what she was looking for: a remote control. Without saying a word, she pressed play on the movie she’d been watching prior to their entrance.  The television was huge, bigger than any she’d ever seen before.  On the expensive wooden stand that matched the coffee table, Samantha spotted a Blu Ray player, a Playstation 3, an Xbox 360, and her favorite console, a Wii. Not only did they have every console, but they may as well have had every game for each of them.  The large bookshelf next to the TV was so full of not only video games but also movies and music that the girls had resorted to creating new stacks on the floor next to the shelf.

Samantha did not know the name of the film that was now playing on the giant TV but it was an older puppet movie that she definitely recognized. The main character was a tall, lanky skeleton with a huge head and sort of a scary smile.  For some reason, he was in a Christmas Town and despite clearly not belonging there, he looked excited and happy.  Samantha couldn’t possibly relate; she was also somewhere she didn’t belong but unlike the singing skeleton dressed in muted colors like Morgan, excitement was the furthest thing from Samantha’s mind right now.

A loud bang echoed from the kitchen around the corner–a ceramic dish shattering on the floor followed by Brittany shouting “fudge!”

Samantha somehow found the courage to interrupt Morgan who was enthralled with the film.  “Is she…okay in there?”

“She’ll figure it out.” Morgan said without looking away, taking a second long sip directly from the bottle.

Curiosity gnawed at Samantha like a prisoner yearning for freedom from the restraint of cordiality.  There was something fascinating about Morgan that Samantha couldn’t quite put her finger on.  The intrigue predated their first meeting, budding and blossoming when she first saw Justin’s face practically melt when Brittany mentioned Morgan’s name.  The curiosity was stronger than her anxiety, and at least now she’d somewhat broken the ice by asking about Brittany.  Not to mention that Morgan had already taken three shots of the Malibu and even Samantha knew that liquor made people open up.  This was the time.

“Umm…Morgan, can I ask you a question?”

“What is it?”

“Yeah..ummm..like Brittany said, I was at a party when she found me and she…well…kinda rescued me.”

“What, was your butt suffocating in those jeans or something?” Morgan’s snide sass didn’t require eye contact; it was still acidic enough to fluster Samantha and make her blush.  She’d been getting way too much attention paid to her big butt and thick thighs–attention she normally did not get due to the looseness of her typical legwear.  “These are my sister’s. I didn’t want to wear them but she said I should for the party.  I kinda wish I didn’t. I know they’re too tight so–”

“--dude, I’m just messing around with you.  You don’t have to explain your clothes to me or anything like that; I’m not your mom.  What’s your question? Or was your question ‘can I ask you a question’?”.

“The party–”

“--speak up, I can’t hear you over the movie.”

Samantha cleared her throat and started over. “...the party that I met Brittany at…it was at the house of this boy named Justin.”

Morgan’s ears twitched, and she was now for the first time dividing more of her attention to Samantha than to the movie.  Samantha continued, “He was being…not very gentlemanly.”

“Huge surprise there.”

“But then Brittany stopped him. She got him to not only leave me alone but she scared him real bad.”

Morgan paused the movie and turned to face Samantha. “Brittany scared Justin?” Her piercing, skeptical green eyes appeared through the narrow slits of her already lazy eyelids. “How?”

“She mentioned you.”

Up to that point, Samantha wondered if Morgan was capable of smiling. She wondered no longer as a huge grin spread across Morgan’s face. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Why is he so…afraid of you?” Samantha asked.

“Oh, big bad Justin can’t be afraid of me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, no; not at all.” Samantha said, almost frantically.

“Is it because I weigh ‘100 lbs soaking wet in two raincoats’?  That’s what he used to say about me in high school.  And mind you, that was when he was trying to date me.  Try and imagine the shit he said after I rejected him.”

Morgan bit her bottom lip, playing with the stud piercing in the lower-right portion of her lip using her teeth.  “I try not to let him live in my head but good god, do I ever hate that guy.”

The mere thought of being on Morgan’s bad side was enough to take Samantha’s breath away; she couldn’t have imagined being on the receiving end of such vitriol. “Well, if it makes you feel better, he did look really scared.”

“Not surprising.  I can be pretty intense when I want to be…and I needed to…well…let’s say ‘set some things straight with him’.  It apparently didn’t stop there though.  As if I didn’t freak him out enough, when word got to my dad about what he was saying about me around school, my dad had a talk with him.  I don’t know what he said to him–my dad is the District Attorney so he talks for a living–but it must have been crazy even for him because Justin’s avoided me like the plague ever since.”

“Your dad is a district attorney?  Is he…Vince Harnett??” Samantha asked.

“Ugh…you know who he is?” Morgan asked in disgust.

Samantha cringed. She’d been gaining some points with Morgan but felt now that she might have thrown them all away.  “I just…like to stay up to date with state government and news.”

“Wow..so you were telling the truth earlier.” Morgan said.

“About what?”

“Those really aren’t your clothes. No one that nerdy would wear booty jeans and a shirt like that.”

Morgan may have meant it as an insult but Samantha smiled, choosing to take it as a compliment and use it as a fuel for confidence.  “I wrote a book report about him in my civics class last year.  I’ll bet he’s really great.”

Morgan flinched, looking caught off-guard which was something the black-haired girl clearly didn’t like.  “Oh, you think so, huh?  Let me dispel some popular myths then: try to imagine what it’s like having a District Attorney for a dad.  He’s not…like…an asshole or anything. He was always happy to buy me whatever I wanted but he was never around. Let’s just put it this way, getting Justin to back the hell off of me was the only thing he’s done for me since I turned 16 that didn’t involve money. According to him, every other problem can be solved with one of his fancy blank checks.  Look around you.”

Samantha looked up at the high-ceiling and lavish, luxurious furnishings of the house and then at the plush couch that supported Samantha’s full weight.

“Umm…is this his house? It’s so beautiful.”

“No, it’s mine. He told me that he’d buy me any house I wanted when I graduated high school so naturally, I told him I wanted to live on Laurier Ave.  I told him I wanted the most expensive house on the street and to be honest, I’d never even seen this place on the inside.  I was doing it just to get him to say no to me. I wanted….ahh, forget it.”

“No, no.” Samantha said, surprising herself with her insistence.  “What did you want?”

Morgan snapped back like an injured animal protecting itself. “Ya know, my dad tried making me see a therapist and I told him to go to hell. What do you think my response will be to you for trying to actually be my therapist?” She stared at Samantha until Samantha broke eye contact, which really didn’t take very long at all.  Morgan took another small sip of the Malibu.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”

“--don’t bullshit me.” Morgan growled. “I know exactly what you were trying to do. You think I’m stupid?”

Samantha’s eyes were beginning to tear up as she stared down at her sneakers.  Just in that moment, another noise came from the kitchen where Brittany was doing god only knew what.

“Was that..an accordion?”

Morgan rolled her eyes and shouted toward the kitchen.  “Brittany, you were supposed to get glasses. What the hell is taking so long?”

“I’m almost done, Morgey!”

“Mor-GAN!” Morgan bellowed.

Loud banging, like two types of metal screaming from being scraped together.  And an even more peculiar sound.  Was that a lawn mower?

“Oh my god, what in god’s name could that girl possibly be up to in there.”

As soon as Morgan was out of view, Samantha started hyperventilating.  Like a small woodland creature caught in a trap, she looked around with frantic eyes for the closest and safest escape.  This was all too much.  She wanted to be back in her bedroom with her book and her stuffed animals.  She wanted to hear the footsteps of her mother outside her bedroom door and Candice’s pop music playing from her bedroom. She wanted to write in her journal about how the subject fared in her butt that day before taking him out and feeding him.

These girls didn’t like her.  Well, Brittany may have…but Morgan disliked her enough for the both of them. They didn’t want to hang out with her.  Who on earth would?  She didn’t know how to have good conversations and when she felt courageous enough to try, she overstepped boundaries that became crystal clear moments too late. She was a nerdy girl who weirded people out with her dorky interests.  They were probably talking about her right now.  Morgan was probably saying “How could you invite such a dweeb to my house?” and Brittany was almost definitely saying “I had no idea she was that much of a geek!  I should have left her with Justin.”

Samantha convinced herself that she was doing both of them a favor by just getting up, letting herself out, and walking home. This was a failure.  The whole night…an epic letdown.  She didn’t think it could get any worse than Justin’s party but it did.

Samantha stood up from the comfy couch and was just about to leave when she felt her little subject, still just right where he’d been for the entire day.  This might have been the longest time straight he’d spent in her butt to date.  There were a few different styles of unique squirming he’d do sometimes when confined between her butt cheeks and right now, clear as day, he was doing the “I’m Hungry” squirm.  Samantha considered waiting until she got home to feed him but it was going to be a long walk back to her house.  The potato chip snapped clean in her fingers with the least amount of pressure.  The tiny sliver of a sliver now sticking to her fingertip was the perfect size for him.

Should she go into the bathroom?  Yes, she should have and would have…if not for her reservations about using other people’s bathrooms.  Samantha was getting more upset with herself, all while the clock was still ticking on her window of opportunity to leave.  Samantha sighed, pulling at the skin-tight waistband of her sister’s jeans and plunged the potato chip sliver down the back of her panties.  Samantha flinched as the chip fragment scraped against the supple skin of her butt cheek like a shard of sharp stone before disappearing into her crack.

‘This would be a lot easier if these jeans weren’t so darn tight.’ Samantha thought, squinting her eyes in concentration as she felt around in her crack for the precise location of her stowed away subject.

“Uhh….Sammi? Whatchya doing?”

Samantha froze, her hand nearly forearm deep down the back of her jeans. She begrudgingly turned to face the kitchen, where both Morgan and Brittany were standing. Brittany was holding two glasses filled with colorful liquid. Morgan was holding her own matching drink and a pint of ice cream.  Both their mouths were agape.

“It’s…oh, dear.  It’s not what it looks like.” Samantha said, the stretchy denim material snapping back with a pronounced slap and jiggle against her skin as her hand emerged, still holding the potato chip sliver.

“Oh, that’s good!” Brittany said, swiping her forehead with the back of her hand in relief. She leaned toward Morgan and spoke softly. “Cause it looked like she was putting a potato chip in your butt crack.”

“That’s exactly what she was doing, Brittany.” Morgan replied.

“I’m sorry, you two.”  Samantha’s eyes were tearing up. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I’m just gonna go.”

Brittany intercepted Samantha after only two steps toward the exit.  “Whoa, whoa.  Calm down, Sammi.  Putting a potato chip in your butt is…well…kinda silly but that’s far from ruining our night!”

“Yeah, and call me bored but I’d like to get to the bottom of why you would do that.” Morgan added.

Brittany giggled at the pun. “She said ‘bottom’.  Did you mean to do that, Morgan?”

Samantha remained where she stood, barricaded by Brittany’s thicker and heavier body as Morgan sauntered back into the living room.  “Why don’t you sit back down.  And tell us…why are you feeding chips to your butt.”

Brittany rubbed Samantha’s shoulder, but there was more than just comfort there.  There was also some slight pressure.  Samantha’s cheerful new friend was encouraging back toward the couch to sit down.

Samantha carefully took a seat, gently wiggling her hips into the plush cushion.  She could feel that the subject had become slightly dislodged during the attempted feeding and she’d gotten quite good at re-wedging him in the full depths of her crack using only her hips.  ‘Am I really going to do this?  What are they going to say?’

“...Okay.” Samantha said, her voice quivering. Brittany leaned forward, her ample breasts nearly popping out of her low top as she pressed her elbows into her knees.  Morgan sat cross legged, eyelids still lazy

“...I’ll tell you.”

~