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The Goods from the Milkman

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Their hearts raced, their minds whirred and their chests heaved as they lied there in the afterglow of their passionate coupling. Elizabeth left small kisses on Helena’s collarbone and neck, her hands caressing the surface area of the polish woman’s thighs, squeezing lightly ever so often. Helena left kisses to the blonde’s hairline and forehead, rubbing the younger woman’s back where she knew she had left scratches and marks earlier in the night. Just what time it was, neither of them knew. They had been caught up in each other all afternoon and night. They could tell it had been quite a while, for the sun that had woken them up that morning was already asleep, and the candles Elizabeth had lit, puddles of melted wax and wicks, all of them gone out but one. As Helena gazed at the one flame that was still burning it reminded her of all that she wanted her and Elizabeth’s relationship to be: a strong flame that could burn for hours and hours but in their case years. She knew that Elizabeth was the only person she could ever see her spending the rest of her life with. Granted, she didn’t have that many left, both well over middle-aged, so she wanted the last days she had to be with Elizabeth. Elizabeth deep down wanted the same thing too. They hadn’t ever discussed this topic between them. They knew they were in a committed relationship with each other- they had talked about that part- but they never talked about forever. Forever is a long time to keep something a secret. Helena always frowned when she thought about their relationship having to be so private. She hated that they had begun the rivalry in the first place. Looking back on it Helena couldn’t see why she and Elizabeth hated each other. They were both strong and powerful businesswomen with great products that took the world by storm. God only knows the magnitude they would’ve had if they had put their differences aside earlier and been a team. Helena liked to imagine what that would’ve been like, working with Elizabeth side by side in the office, stealing kisses, and getting sidetracked from work. She realized they would still have to hide that they were together. Society was not as progressive as it seemed. Her and Elizabeths careers would be over if anyone was to catch wind of them together, or either of them with other women. It made Helena’s blood boil thinking about it. Why should anyone give a damn who someone decided to love and spend their life with?  It was wrong, but there was nothing she could do about it. She didn’t realize that she was beginning to hold Elizabeth closer to her, almost as if she was afraid to let go. In all honesty, she was afraid to let go. As much as it seemed like she was a big strong independent woman who had all the confidence in the world, Helena was very insecure. It made her angry that she couldn’t find it in herself to think of herself in higher esteem, but she just didn’t. She caught herself wondering all the time why Elizabeth loved her the way that she did. She had determined from an early age that she had a face only a mother could love and was set on it. Her personality was harsh to Americans, mainly because they weren’t used to polish customs and mannerisms. Most people saw her as an immediate threat and she assumed that was the reason Elizabeth hated her so much in the beginning. She was on the defense. 

 

“Helena?” Elizabeth muttered into the skin of the shorter woman’s neck. 

 

“Yes kotak ?” Helena answered petting Elizabeth gently on the head. 

 

“I’m hungry.” 

 

“I thought you’d never say that! I’m starving!” Helena exclaimed in relief, making Elizabeth giggle slightly, sitting up off her lover and looking down at her for a minute. She raked her eyes over Helena’s naked form, a heat pooling in her stomach again. 

 

“No no, don’t look at me like that,” Helena said sitting up and reaching for her robe, “you know what that look does to me and I’m hungry.” She moved Elizabeth over to the side, putting on her robe and handing Elizabeth hers. Helena gave Elizabeth a quick kiss before climbing out of their bed and making her way to the kitchen, Elizabeth on her tail. 

 

“I think it’s way too late to start cooking anything serious so what do you suggest?” Helena asked the taller woman as they entered the kitchen. 

 

“Oh! I got some ice cream from the milkman earlier today! I got your favorite flavor: vanilla,” Elizabeth told her, swooshing around the kitchen, grabbing the ice cream from the icebox and some spoons out of the cutlery drawer. Helena shrugged and pulled herself onto the counter, Elizabeth coming to stand between her legs, as she collected a small amount of ice cream on the spoon guiding it to Helena’s mouth. Helena took the ice cream off the spoon, and as soon as the spoon left her lips, Elizabeth’s was replacing it. 

 

“Mhmm. I don’t know which I like more, the ice cream or you,” Helena teased. 

 

“It better be me!” Elizabeth said play-pouting, holding the ice cream tub away from the shorter woman. 

 

“Of course it is. Nie ma słodszego smaku na moich ustach niż ty, ” Helena told her kissing her once again. 

 

“I have no idea what you just said but it was hot,” Elizabeth told her, dazed a little, leaning in for another kiss. Helena obliged using that opportunity to sneak the ice cream out of the blonde’s possession. 

 

“Hey!” 

 

“I told you I’m hungry woman!” Helena said spooning ice cream into her mouth as the both of them were sent into a laughing spell, cooling off after a few moments. Elizabeth sighed heavily, placing her forehead against Helena’s. 

 

“I love you so much, Hel.” She whispered. 

 

“I love you too, Lizzie.” Helena placed a kiss on the tip of Elizabeth’s nose, adoring the blush that spread through her cheeks afterward. 

 

“Hey, you want to know what else I got from the milkman this morning,” Elizabeth asked, sliding away to the icebox again when Helena raised her eyebrows in curiosity. She pulled out a can of Reddi whip and showed it to her. The stuff had only been out for a few years and was slowly becoming more popular. Elizabeth shook the can slightly, spraying just a smidgen on her finger before looking Helena dead in the eyes while licking it off. Helena’s jaw dropped, her body now coursing with want. Elizabeth took note of this and smiled, “are you still hungry, Madam Rubenstein?” 

 

“More than ever, Ms. Arden,” she answered hopping down off of the counter toward’s the taller woman. Elizabeth smiled and ran out of the kitchen, racing Helena back to the bedroom where they and the whipped cream stayed for the rest of the night. 

 

Nie ma słodszego smaku na moich ustach niż ty means “there is no sweeter taste on my lips than you”