Solace Rosanna
- 3 years ago
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Solace & Rosanna Ch. 13 free porn video
2003: Rosanna had only received one phone call from Matilda in the two weeks since her abrupt departure. She called to say that she was fine and would be staying with a friend in upstate New York. She did not offer a name and Rosanna stubbornly did not ask for one. She simply listened, her blood boiling and temples throbbing as Matilda explained that she needed to think about their future. Rosanna offered that perhaps they should discuss their future together, but Matilda had said that she was not ready for that. When Rosanna asked her when she could expect her back in town, Matilda said that she could not commit to anything as definite as a date. They hung up and Rosanna took four ibuprofen tablets and went to the gym to work off the tension. Such was the tenor of her days. She would go to work, maintaining an attitude of cool professionalism—so she supposed. From there she spent two hours at the gym. Her physical exertions caused her mind to become dull and blank—at least for a short period of time. Once, she left the gym, she went home to her empty apartment. She wished she could talk to Sam. She missed him a great deal.
Her dear friend was off shooting the wild things (thankfully only with a camera). He had landed what he considered a seriously excellent job as a photographer for a well-known nature magazine and was doing a lot of globe trotting. Currently, Rosanna had mementos from Australia, China, and Japan. They had met in college at a lesbian/gay mixer and become close friends. Sam told her all the gory details and adventures of his latest boy-toy and she eventually got around to confiding her feelings, fears, and fantasies first about Solace and later, Matilda. Sam gave terrific sound advice. He listened to any suggestions Rosanna offered intently, but inevitably did the exact opposite. He was also her biking buddy, and they had logged too many miles to count. Sam had promised to call her as soon as ‘was humanly possible and decent’, but as yet she had not heard from him. Rosanna was certain he would return ready to tell all about his latest trek.
During the two weeks, Rosanna picked up her phone on several occasions, thinking to call Solace, but she always stopped herself. What could she say? What did she want to say? What would Solace say? Again, the questions swirled around in her brain like a kaleidoscope, never stopping on a single answer.
Bored one Saturday, and tired of brooding, Rosanna decided to take a solo bike trip down Manhattan’s east side. This would give her body a real workout. She donned her biking shorts and jacket, grabbed her helmet and racing bike and dashed out the door. Once on the street, she put her feet to the pedals and pumped furiously towards a dangerous, high speed ride. The bracing wind whipped around her and it felt almost as if she were flying. She recklessly weaved in and out of traffic, only braking when absolutely necessary.
As she stopped for a light, she saw a woman crossing the street using a white mobility cane. How was it that she had never seen blind people before? She probably had, she just had not been paying attention. Solace had opened her eyes to the fact that blind people were everywhere. Rosanna’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the unsuspecting pedestrian. She noted how the woman’s swing differed from Solace’s. She noticed her hair color and thought of Solace’s wavy locks. She also took in the woman’s style of dress. Rosanna did not miss a single detail that was in her vision. She was jolted back to her senses by the honking of horns, signaling that annoyed motorists wanted her to get out of the way. She sped off, her legs pumping even harder and faster, her muscles screaming for relaxation. She rode all the way down to the scenic South Street Seaport area where she slowed, located a bench, hopped off her bike and sat down. She pulled off her helmet, wiped her sweating forehead and looked out over the rippling waters of the East River. The rhythmic motion helped lull her tortured mind. She loved the water and thought about… What had she been thinking—that she would love to take Solace out on her motor boat this summer. Right! She had broken it off with Solace so abruptly. It had only been two weeks and yet it felt like a lifetime. If Sam were here, he probably would have told her that her actions had been nuts. He had, on several occasions, sounded her out about seeing Matilda. She had not been able to convince him that it was the best and that Matilda would probably make a more suitable mother for their children. Sam was a Solace fan and made no secret of this fact.
“The world is coming to an end!” a shrill, female voice interrupted Rosanna’s thoughts. She looked up to see a woman wearing several layers of clothes and pushing a shopping cart, coming toward her. “Save yourselves and your children!” she yelled. “The war has begun and there’s nowhere to run!”
Rosanna grabbed the seat of her bike in the event that she would have to make an unplanned rapid retreat.
“Are you ready, young woman?” This statement seemed odd as the woman did not seem much older than thirty years herself. She waited expectantly for Rosanna’s reply.
Ordinarily, Rosanna did not speak to the many homeless New Yorkers who crossed her path. She gave a monthly donation to an organization which fed, clothed and offered counseling, but that was the extent of her contact. She believed that communicating with them was not wise as she might inadvertently say something that might provoke them into violence and she did not want to deal with a confrontational situation. But she was in a strange mood and she asked, “Is anybody ready? What is going to be is going to be. How can we be ready for anything?” She looked at the woman, not knowing whether she would receive an answer or not but slightly intrigued to hear what she might have to say.
The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. She seemed taken aback that someone had actually answered her. She had been shouting this warning for several years. She had received very few responses but many furtive glances before they scurried away. She looked into Rosanna’s eyes as she said, “You are troubled.”
“Aren’t we all?” Rosanna mumbled without thinking.
“You are torn between two paths,” she continued, ignoring Rosanna’s quiet query. “You turn away from love that is right there in front of you. You are the blind one. You need solace.” She finished, turned her shopping cart around and shambled off down the waterfront.
Rosanna sat stunned and speechless. How could she know? That was a lucky guess. She doesn’t even know me. She felt a shiver crawl up her spine and her stomach lurched. How eerie! What she had said was that I need solace. She meant comfort. Didn’t she? Well, she’s right. I do need solace, but not… She interrupted that thought. Well, she might not be able to make up her mind about the women in her life, but she did know one thing—she was starved. She reached in her fanny pack for her cell phone and pressed the speed dial number for her mother. Carla picked up on the third ring.
“Rosanna?” Carla could see Rosanna’s name on her caller ID.
“Ma, can I come over for dinner?” asked Rosanna praying that her mother was not going to a show or something.
“Sure, if you don’t mind leftovers. I made some arroz con pollo yesterday. I think it’s still good.” Carla answered. Her culinary skills were not up to her mother’s but she and Rosita had not starved.
“Great. I’ll see you in about an hour.” Rosanna exclaimed.
“An hour? Where are you?” Carla asked in surprise because she knew Rosanna was only a short bus ride away.
“I’m down at the Seaport. I rode my bike down here.” Rosanna replied, shouting a bit as a large boat passed, its loud horn sounding in short blasts.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Rosita. Well, be careful!” Carla yelled back.
“
I will, mamma. Bye.” Rosanna ended the call and hopped onto her bike. As she began to pedal, her right knee began to throb. Deciding that it would not be wise to push it, she rode to the nearest subway station, went down the stairs and jumped on a train headed north. As she stood in the subway car, one hand holding on to her bike the other a pole, the train suddenly lurched to a stop and the lights went out. Rosanna huffed her impatience. I thought these trains were new. Why are they having troubles? The conductor made an announcement that the train would be running as soon as they had the all-clear from the dispatcher. In the meantime, passengers were advised to hold tight to their belongings and try to stay calm.
All around Rosanna, people were muttering to themselves and talking to total strangers about the awful service and the escalating prices. Rosanna felt beads of perspiration form on her hair line and upper lip because without lights, there was, of course, no air conditioner. Even though it was spring, the cars could become extremely stuffy. She wiped her forehead and reached into her bag for the water which she always carried. She also had one of those awful nutritional candy bars. She was not crazy about the taste, but she kept her bag stocked with them for energy. She could barely see two feet in front of her and the lights in the tunnel only cast a dim glow.
As she lifted the bottle of water to her lips, she felt a hand tugging at the handlebars of her bicycle. She dropped the water bottle and began a tug of war with the unseen would-be thief. As they were quite near her, she could smell the alcohol on their breath. Rosanna could not see whether it was a man or a woman, but they were doing their damndest to wrench her bicycle from her hands. She had what she thought was a brilliant idea. She let go of the bike, located the fingers of the individual with the vice-like grip, and bent one back to the knuckle. She heard the satisfying crack of bone as a piercing feminine shriek tore from the assailant’s throat. Other passengers screamed in fright, unaware of what was taking place right near them.
“Fucking Bitch! Shit!” came the loud, angry reply from the injured party. The hold on Rosanna’s bike was released and was followed by a punch to her face, which left her with a split lip and bleeding nose. With that she pushed passed Rosanna and into another subway car.
All this occurred in the near pitch blackness. Ironically, as Rosanna reached up to assess the damages to her battered face, the lights came on, the train started moving and the passengers nearest her gasped at the sight of Rosanna’s bloodied lip and nose. She reached into her bag, pulled out a bandana and began to dab at her wounds, wincing at the sharp pain. This task she performed with one hand, never letting go of the handlebars of her bike. By this time her hands were shaking and it was difficult keeping her grip.
“Do you need to go to the emergency room? I’ll take you,” came the voice of a young man. As he moved closer, their eyes met and there was a moment of recognition.
“Rosanna, right?” Leander Collins asked.
“Leander, right?” Rosanna inquired through her handkerchief.
“Right. What happened?” he looked horrified.
“Can I tell you that a little later? I have to get to my mom’s. She’s expecting me for dinner.” Rosanna said as she dabbed at her battered face.
“Sure. I’ll get you there,” Leander offered and Rosanna did not refuse. She was exhausted, hungry, bleeding and her knee was throbbing like hell. Having someone take care of her sounded like just what the doctor ordered. Oh, lord, and speaking of doctors, her mother would have a heart attack when she saw her.
“Where does your mom live?” Leander inquired as the doors opened at 77th street.
“On 86th street and Park,” Rosanna answered. What a coincidence that Casey’s friend was on the same train. Well, something good had to happen for a change, but then she said, “I don’t want to take you out of your way.”
“You’re not. Don’t worry about it. Casey would kill me anyway if I couldn’t report that I had helped her friend.” His smile was cute and boyish, his brown eyes twinkling behind his glasses.
“Well, thank you, Leander.” Rosanna said as the train came to a halt at their stop and passengers flew out of the car. Leander grabbed the handlebars of Rosanna’s bike. For a second, she had a moment of panic, but realized that her fear was unfounded. This was not a foe, he might be a potential friend. She relaxed and limped slowly up the stairs and out of the station with him. Once outside she held on to the seat of her bike for support, fearing that her leg would no longer carry her wait. Someday she would bite the bullet and have the operation recommended by her mother and constantly harped upon by Solace..
When they arrived at her mother’s apartment house, they rode up in the elevator in silence. They stopped in front of a door marked 223. Rosanna had not thought to bring her key, so she knocked with one hand, keeping the bandana plastered firmly to her nose and lip.
“Rosita?” called her mother. “Why didn’t you use your—“ Carla opened the door, saw her daughter and screamed. “What happened, Rosita? Come in.” She ushered Rosanna through the door, almost slamming it in Leander’s face, but he caught it and struggled in with Rosanna’s bicycle. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you,” Carla said as she guided her daughter to the couch and sat her down.
“That’s all right. I’m Leander. I just walked Rosanna here because I don’t think she’s in any shape to steer a bike.” He leaned the sleek racing bike against a nearby wall and stood there watching Rosanna’s mother fuss over her.
Carla ran to the bathroom, returned with a washcloth and a bottle of antiseptic and began cleaning the wounds. Once done, she looked at Rosanna’s face and pronounced that she did not believe Rosanna’s nose was broken, but she should see a specialist, just in case. She would make an appointment for her in the morning.
“Mama, that’s not necessary.” Rosanna protested.
“You’re telling a doctor what’s not necessary now?” Carla said, holding her daughter’s face in her hands. “Oh, Rosita, what happened?”
Rosanna told the whole sad tale, but finished with, “At least I still have my bike.”
“They always say you should let them have whatever they want, just in case they’re really dangerous and have intentions of killing you,” Leander offered morosely. Carla put a hand to her chest as if she would faint from just the notion of such a violent act.
“They say a lot of things. We don’t even know who they are.” Rosanna countered, feeling her hunger returning with a vengeance.
“He’s right, Rosita. Let them have what they want and you keep your life.”
As if reading Rosanna’s mind, she rose from the couch and went to the kitchen. “By the way, I’m Carla Romero.” She put out her hand to Leander. “Thank you for your help. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“I’m Leander Collins, a friend of a friend. Thank you. That sounds wonderful. I was only going home to a Hungry Man dinner anyway.”
“No, no. You helped my Rosita. You deserve much better than that.”
“So why are you offering him dinner, mama?” Rosanna chimed in.
“Fresh girl. I taught you better manners.” Carla shot back with a smile.
“I know, but I forgot them someplace,” Rosanna answered as she lay down gingerly on the couch.
“Do you hear this, Leander?” Carla threw up her hands and made her way to the kitchen. The sounds of slamming doors, pots, pans and water running in a sink could be heard.
“Thanks again, Leander. I’ll remember to tell Casey you were a knight in shining armor,” Rosanna said from the couch, her eyes closing, h
er breathing becoming slow and even.
Leander watched Rosanna as she drifted off to sleep. Even with her split lip and bruised nose, she was strikingly beautiful. He understood Casey’s attraction. Fate had definitely put her in his path—whether it was to help Casey he did not know, but he was eager to see how the scenes in this play would unfold.
“Dinner’s ready!” Carla called out.
Leander found his way to the dining area and told Rosanna’s mother that her daughter had fallen asleep. She dropped the potholders she was using and ran back to the living room. Leander followed her. Carla looked lovingly at her Rosita, kissed her on the forehead and covered her with a nearby quilt. As she leaned over to adjust the blanket around Rosanna’s sleeping form, she could hear Rosanna mumbling something. It soon became clear.
“Solace. I need Solace.” Came Rosanna’s low voice.
“I’ll call Solace in the morning, Rosita. She’ll want to come and see you,” Carla reassured her daughter.
“Solace?” Leander repeated softly. Casey would not be happy to hear about this turn of events.
Mckenna
- 05.06.2021
- 20
- 0
