Always a Challenge

By Shotzette

Rated NC-17

 

 

Laverne DeFazio flinched instinctively when her father shattered the still unopened bottle of Shotz in his hand.  “Geez,” she cried out as she reached for a rag from the kitchen counter, only to accidentally grab the black bra that started the mess.

 

“How could you?”  Her father cried out.  Frank DeFazio was bristling with rage.  “Of all people… Lenny Kosnowski?  What were you thinking?”

 

Laverne groaned and promised herself that she’d soon have a meaningful conversation with Squiggy.  At least her fists would.  “Pop, you don’t understand.”

 

“Oh, I understand, all right.  My daughter is a liar, and god knows what else,” he said as he looked at the cheap lingerie distastefully.

 

“It ain’t like that,” Laverne said, as she felt her anger begin to overtake her.  “I didn’t tell you because…”

 

“Because you were ashamed of what you were doing, that’s why!”

 

Laverne shook her head vehemently.  “That ain’t it at all, Pop.  Lenny like ain’t any other guy I’ve ever been out with.”

 

Frank sneered.  “I”ll say, he’s too much of a coward to come down here and face me.”

 

Before Laverne could retort, Lenny’s head poked out of her bedroom; unfortunately followed by the rest of his bathrobe-clad body.

 

Laverne gulped nervously, as she watched the situation go from bad to worse.  “Uh, Len…” she said out loud as her eyes begged him to run like hell.

 

“Why you... “Frank snarled as he lunched towards the young man, his face red and fists clenched.

 

Surprisingly, Lenny didn’t flinch.  Not once.  He stood his ground and regarded her father with an almost eerie calm in his blue eyes.  “I love Laverne, Mr. DeFazio,” he said evenly, in a voice nearly an octave lower than his usual whine.

 

Frank sputtered, rage written across his beefy features.  “You stroll out of my daughter’s bedroom wearing only a robe and you got the nerve to say that to my face, you punk?”

 

“Pop!  Lenny ain’t no punk, and we haven’t done anything to be ashamed of,” Laverne said.

 

Her father looked at her like she had just announced that the Brooklyn Dodgers were losers.  “You should be ashamed.  I don’t know what I was thinking, letting you move out here to California.  People ain’t got no morals now with all the free love.  Hah, nothing worth having is free.  You kids don’t understand…” Frank finished.

 

“Pop…”

 

“How could you, Laverne?  You had so many chances to have a good life, first with Sal, even with Vito, the son of the cheese magnate…”

 

At Lenny’s quizzical look, she quickly explained.  “My pop tried to arrange a marriage for me back in Milwaukee to some guy named Vito.  His father owned a mozzarella factory.

 

“Vito from the church?  Square head, no neck, and hair on his thumbs Vito?”  At Laverne’s nod, Lenny shuddered.

 

“There’s more to relationships than looks,” Frank thundered.  He glanced at Lenny, and then back at Laverne.  “Vito and Sal wore good men, Laverne.  They would have taken care of you.  So would Randy…”

 

“Shut up!”  The vehemence in her voice made both her father and Lenny jump.  “Don’t you ever bring up Randy’s name that way, ever again!”   Laverne felt herself losing control and cursed the tears she knew were rolling down her face, hating to show weakness to her father.

 

“Muffin…”

 

The usually endearing term grated on her for once; it made her feel small and helpless and needy.  “Don’t call me that,” she snarled, part of her enjoying watching her father flinch at the roughness in her tone.  “And until you’re ready to accept that Lenny and I are a couple, don’t call me,” Laverne said as she walked passed her father and opened the front door.

 

Frank DeFazio shook his head, as he blustered towards the door.  “I ain’t never going to accept this-thing-that you have with that bum.  I’m glad for once that your mother never lived to see this awful day.!”

 

Laverne sucked in her breath, but the overwhelming feeling of guilt and abandonment that she usually felt when her father talked about her mother didn’t take hold of her.  It was almost like some sort of spell had been broken.  “Then there’s nothing left to say.  Good-bye,” she said to her father, in an emotional-less tone.

 

Frank looked surprised for a split second before walking through the doorway.  “Don’t come crawling back to me when you come to your senses, Laverne,” he said more quietly, “you can’t treat family this way.”

 

Laverne’s only response was the empty booming sound of her heavy oaken door slamming shut.  The sound jarred her out of her adrenaline-induced state and she suddenly felt weak in her knees.  As the tears overtook her, she felt Lenny’s long arms encircle her from behind and hold her tight, as if he’d never let her go, no matter what.

 

He spoke against the crown of her head, his breath ruffling her hair.  “Laverne?  I’m sorry.  Squiggy shouldn’t have said nothing: when I see him…”

 

Laverne smiled weakly, “It ain’t his fault, Len.  I shouldn’t have kept us a secret.”

 

Lenny’s arms tightened around her momentarily.  “Why did you?”

 

She shrugged, and bit back her usual, “I don’t know,” and opted for the frighteningly naked truth.  “I was scared.  We’re just still so new; this isn’t like anything else I’ve had before.”

 

“Me neither.”

 

“Half the time you’ve got me so happy that I can’t see straight…”

 

“And the other half?” his voice strained as if he carried the weight of the universe on it.

 

“I’m so scared that I’m going to lose you, I’m miserable.  And scared.  And,” as she thought of her behavior over the last twenty four hours, “stupid.”

 

Lenny let out a quieter version of his walrus-like guffaw.  “You ain’t stupid.  Trust me, I know It when I see it.  But I know about the scared part, “ he said as he glanced down at the front of his robe.

 

She turned in his arms; happy to see they still remained around her.  “I love you, Len…”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

“I just…”

 

“What?” Lenny’s forehead creased with worry.

 

Embarrassed, she looked away.  “I don’t want our first time to be the night that I kicked my father out of my life, okay?”

 

He shook his head, and looked relieved.  “Me neither.”

 

Her arms tightened around him in relief, she was going to lose him, she told herself.  “Can you stay tonight, though?  I mean if you can’t…”

 

Lenny smiled that smile that had made him her best guy friend since forever.  “I’d love to stay.  I’ll even stay down here on the couch if you want.”

 

“No,” she said firmly, “I don’t want that.  I ain’t got no reason to keep you at arm’s length.  “I was thinking, she said as she took his hand and led him up the stairs, “Carmine’s got a bed big enough for two, so Shirley don’t need to take her bed with her.”

 

Lenny glanced at the two twin beds as he walked through the bedroom door. “ Twin beds?”

 

Laverne grinned as an image of Ozzie and Harriet danced before her eyes.  “No,” she explained with a sly smile, “twin beds wouldn’t be any good,” but she whispered, “if you push them together you get a king-sized bed.”

 

Lenny gaped.  “Are you allowed to do that?”

 

Laverne giggled, relieve to feel her tears dry up, even if temporarily.  “We can do anything we want, Len.”

 

“You know what I want to do?”

 

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

 

“Take a shower.  I haven’t had one since yesterday morning, and between the passing out and the throwing up…”

 

Laverne shuddered at the imagery.  “I get it, Len.  I don’t need the details.”  She smiled again.  “Why don’t you do that, and I’ll start moving things around out here.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.  Also,” she said as she led him to the sink and reached up to the shelf above it.  Why don’t you take my new toothbrush?”

 

“I got one at home.”

 

“For when you’re here,” she said emphasizing her words by lifting her eyebrows.

 

“Oh.  You sure?  I mean, I can use the old one.”

 

“Nah, you deserve new.”

 

“Thanks, Verne.  For everything,” he said as he walked into the bathroom.

 

Laverne rolled her bed up against Shirley’s and winced when she saw the collection of dust bunnies beneath it.  “Well I’ll… Little Miss Goody Two Shoes!  That’s how her end of the room was always so clean; she swept everything under my bed!”   Carmine was in for a rude awakening, she thought with a grin. 

 

Five minutes later with a broom and dustpan, the room was spic and span.  Well, she hedged, at least not horribly disgusting.  She looked down and realized that the same could not be said about herself.  Her navy blue Bardwell’s blazer had become, as usual, a magnet for all the flying lint in the room, and her navy blue culottes weren’t much better.  Shucking them both into the clothes hamper, she instinctively reached into her bureau drawer for a nightgown, before an impish grin crossed her face.

 

It’s not like they had to go all the way, she reasoned, as she quickly discarded her underwear and pantyhose before entering the steamy bathroom.

 

She smiled as the humid air hit her face.  Good, Lenny liked extra hot showers too.  That would be convenient, she thought as the visage of Shirley nagging her about their hot water bills flashed before her eyes..

 

“Len?”  She heard a gasp behind the pink floral shower curtain, and hesitated.  “Can I come in?”

 

“You are in,” Lenny replied in a quavering whisper.

 

Laverne rolled her eyes.  “I mean, the shower.  With you?”

 

“Why?”

 

“I got a little…dirty straitening up the bedroom.”

 

“I can get out.”

 

“You don’t have to.  In fact, don’t,” she said as she drew back the shower curtain and entered without further preamble.

 

Lenny jumped back and cupped himself as she entered the steamy stall.  "Laverne?"

 

Her eyes fell once again to his scars, and her heart twisted as she tried to imagine the level of pain that caused them.  Before he could bolt again, she pressed up against him.  “I love you.” She whispered, and was relieved to feel his arms tentatively encircle her as he spasmed slightly against her..

 

“I don’t deserve you, Vernie,” he whispered against the top of her head.

 

She shook her head and looked up into his blue eyes.  “We deserve each other Len.  We just need to start believing it.  Both of us.”

 

“That don’t sound like a bad thing,” he said as he tilted her head back for a kiss. 

 

“It ain’t a bad thing at all,” she said as the kiss ended.

 

“Vernie?”

 

“Hmmm…” she mumbled against his lips as she pressed herself closer against him.

 

“Which soap do you want me to use?  You’ve got like five of them in here.”

 

Laverne stifled a chuckle.  Lenny may be a little more experienced than she was in the bedroom, but the poor boy was still pretty clueless when it came to women.  “This one,” she said as she offered him a blue bar of Dial.

 

His brow furrowed.  “What’s wrong with the other four?”

 

She giggled at his naiveté, and for once she noticed that he seemed secure enough to take it.  “There’s nothing wrong with them.  The green one is my face soap,” she explained, “ the pink on is Shirley’s face soap, the yellow one is the Jean Nat’e guest soap that we’ve had since Milwaukee and probably should throw out, and the white one is the one that Shirley had to use that time when she had that rash-don’t worry, it’s going with her to New York, or it’s going straight in the trash when she leaves,” she said hastily as Lenny jerked back from the innocent looking white bar.

 

“You need five soaps?  How messy are you?”

 

“Shut up and let me scrub your back,” she said as she turned him away from her.  She lathered her hands and rubbed them against his back, visually obliterating his scars.  The skin on his back didn’t feel any different to her than any other skin.  The ridges and scars had weathered overtime, and felt smooth to the touch.  Then again, she noticed, apparently Lenny wasn’t that used to being touched there, as his low moan caught her attention.  “I guess I’m doing this right,” she purred into his ear.

 

“You got no idea,” he said in a deep voice that was nearly unrecognizable to her ears.

 

“I think I know what you want me to scrub next,” she said as her hands reached around his waist and started to tantalizingly work their way down his belly.

 

“Oh god, Laverne…. Please, please wash my…”

 

“Hair?”

 

“Huh?”

 

She giggled as he turned his head and looked at her in surprise.  “Please?  Can I do that…first?”

 

The word first apparently caught his attention and he grinned, a grin she was finding sexier with each passing hour.  Quickly, she reached for the tube of Prell on the side of the tub and squeezed some of the green shampoo into her hand.  “This is gonna feel so good…” she whispered against his ear as she stood closer to him.

 

Lenny’s eyes were closed and he tilted his head back towards her, bracing himself against the tiled wall of the tub with his hands.  “Mmm… feels good.”

 

“Told you so,” she said, as she continued her scalp massage while stealing occasional looks at his tush.  When he turned back to her, and rinsed his hair, she couldn’t help but notice how much a certain part of him liked the massage.

 

“We should do this a lot,” she said, as she reached down the stroke him in a much-practiced rhythm. 

 

“No argument from me…” he sighed, leaning back

 

She moved in closer and kissed his throat, while subtly speeding the rhythm of her hand.  She worked her way down his throat this his chest, and stopped briefly when his blue eyes flew open.  “It’s okay,” she mumbled against him.  “Let this be for you for once…”

 

He hesitated, and she saw the fear and doubt dance across his face.

 

“Trust me?”

 

He nodded, and she happily went back to her ministrations.  Her lips trailed down his belly after her tongue briefly flickered about his nipples.  She smiled when he tremored, happy that she could pleasure him selflessly.  Laverne knelt, never breaking the rhythm of her pumping right fist.  She leaned forward and experimentally flicked her tongue against the head of his shaft.  Miles over her head, she heard a guttural groan.  She peppered the underside of his shaft with kisses, while releasing him with her hand and heard his hands clench and release the shower curtain in frustration.  Laverne smiled and licked her lips before taking the head of him into her mouth fully.  She remained motionless, allowing herself to get used to his girth before slowly moving her head back and forth.  The ripping noise of the shower curtain being torn from its rings let her know her movements were appreciated.  Lenny moaned, “Vernie… I can’t… I’m gonna….”

 

Laverne quickly locked her arms around his waist and began to suck against him slowly… 

 

He thrust against her, two, three times before groaning loudly, and Laverne swallowed instinctively.  Smiling, she slowly rose to her feet as she watched him recover.

 

“Sorry…  I didn’t.”

 

She noted the redness of his cheeks, and couldn’t tell if it was from the recent flush of passion, or embarrassment.  She smiled at him.  “Don’t apologize.  I was sort of trying to make that happen.”

 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t fair for you.”

 

She shook her head.   “If we started keeping score, I’d win hands down, Len.”

 

He drew her close to him.  “Wanna score some tonight?” His seductive whisper tickled her ear.

 

Laverne trembled against him, kissing him fully as her answer. She lost herself in the sensation of the tiled floor moving under her feet, the rough swipe of the terry cloth around her shoulders, and the warmth of Lenny’s damp hands caressing her.  She felt herself tumble backwards, only to be caught by the two twin beds.  Lenny’s lips left hers and started their fiery trail down her throat, between her breasts, and then to begin the exploration of her belly.  She moaned as his tongue flicked against her sensitive skin, and instinctively parted her thighs as he continued his downward trek.  She felt his fingers stroking her as his mouth drew nearer to…

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Len!”  Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment.  “You said you did this before!”

 

“I have.”  He flushed slightly, “I don’t mean that, I mean THAT; the red spot on your thigh?”

 

Laverne looked down at the tiny blister on the inside off her right thigh.

 

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I’ve never seen that before.  I fell earlier today, I guess I scraped myself up worse than I thought,” she said, as she looked down on her scratched and bruised legs.

 

Lenny was quiet for several moments.  “That don’t look like a scrap, Vernie.  I haven’t seen anything like that since I was six and…”  He looked at her, aghast.  “Laverne, did you ever have the chicken pox?”

 

FIN

To "Always Appologize First"

To "Always Too Much Lasagne"