This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to anyone, anywhere, anywhen is purely coincidental.
This story involves sex between adult females. If that's not your thing, or if it is illegal in any way, then stop reading. Otherwise, enjoy!
I wrapped my leather jacket tighter around my chest as my steps took me up the final hill of my walk. The days had been drawing shorter for a couple of months now and I felt the beginnings of a biting chill in the air. Though I enjoyed the warmth of the long, summer evenings it was with a sigh of relief that I welcomed the autumn, for autumn soon gave way to winter, the season of warm log fires and romantic liaisons in the snow. But that was a while away, and the steep path leading up to the church was as yet ice-free.
It had become a ritual of mine of late, to visit the church and take a moment's solace before resuming my evening plans. Four hundred years old and still going strong, the church boasted a tall spire and huge but simple stained-glass windows depicting various bible scenes. Moss grew around the stones at the foot of the outside walls and many surrounding tombstones, a sign that time marched onwards regardless of what stood in its path. I entered the church and immediately felt a calmness descend over me. I am not in the least bit religious, yet I felt something each time I visited this holy place. Perhaps it was the stunning architecture or the sight of the impressive church organ that dominated one wall. I settled myself in a pew and considered what I had done that day, and what I may yet do...
"Hi Chris, what'll it be tonight, eh?" asked Neil, the only male member of the bar staff at the Queen's Head. We had struck up a kind of kinship, for he had made it clear that he knew I was interested in women and I had implied that I had an idea of his feelings towards men. It was an understanding that we both shared and kept to ourselves, for which I was grateful.
"Oh, just a pint, please. God, it's getting cold out there now," I added, rubbing my hands together to warm my numb fingers. I gratefully accepted my drink and scanned the length of the tavern. There were few other patrons in tonight, just a drab collection of regulars in their usual places. I nodded to them, for many now knew me by name, and took up my favourite seat opposite the bar. I knew from experience that on a Wednesday the shift changed at 7pm, and it was five to the hour now. Silently I crossed my fingers, hoping to see that black-haired head appear round the corner. Neil looked over at me as I watched, and I could have sworn I detected a slight wink before he turned to greet his replacement. It was indeed Hannah, and I looked away with a sharp intake of breath, suddenly unable to even cast a glance in that direction.
"What the hell is wrong with me," I muttered to myself, gripping my glass tightly and staring at the golden swirl of lager. "You've been with girls, loads of them, she's no different. Doesn't know you from Adam, you great daft oik!" I berated myself freely for a minute, cursing my shyness when it came to matters of the heart. I could waltz into a boardroom full of greying men in suits and talk for England, yet speaking to an attractive young woman seemed preposterously difficult. I continued to sip my drink and, every so often, risk a quick shufti towards the bar.
A log fire burned low in the grate -- so much for winter being far away, I mused, stretching my feet towards the warmth. There were only five people remaining in the pub, the rest having shuffled home hours ago. I was nicely drunk. It was my day off tomorrow, so the late hour did not worry me. I looked around, mentally listing what I knew about my companions. Three were men in their sixties, no doubt putting off the moment when their wives would scold them for staying out late and drinking away their pension. I believed their names were Dave, Nigel and John, though I couldn't be sure. Aside from these, only myself and Hannah remained. I stole a glance towards her, tracing my gaze from her legs and muscular thighs up over her stomach and breasts, hidden by the unflattering uniform, on to her broad shoulders and finally her round yet strong features. I had learned that she played rugby until recently and enjoyed walking in the surrounding countryside. Suddenly she turned her face towards me and our eyes met. Hers were a deep royal blue, mesmerising to look at, like she could see into my mind and soul. Hannah smiled briefly before continuing her game of cards with Nigel, or John, whichever, I didn't care.
In the ladies' I stood before the mirror, breathing deeply. I saw a youngish-looking face staring back, a handsome face with a hint of a boyish grin that fit well with my stocky, not particularly lady-like figure. My hair was dark brown even after months of sunshine and was naturally wavy. Slightly longer than I like it, I could see the ends of the fringe if I tugged it down over my eyes, and I resolved to have it cut the following day. I thought I was fairly attractive, but nobody else seems to agree. Not yet, anyhow. I grinned at my reflection and moved out into the tap room once again. Having been gone only a matter of minutes I was surprised to find my ageing companions gone, with Hannah nowhere to be seen. This was soon explained, for she stood up from behind the bar where she had been replacing clean glasses on dusty shelves.
"Time to go home, Chris," she spoke softly, enunciating every syllable with a gentle southern lilt that melted my heart for the umpteenth time. I picked up my glass and downed the rest of my whisky in one. Turning to go, a thought occurred to me and I paused, looking back questioningly.
"You know my name?" I asked even though that fact was obvious. She nodded, her eyes looking unwaveringly into mine.
"Everyone does," she replied nonchalantly, waving one arm slightly as though pointing to an invisible crowd of people who also knew my name. I shook my head, unable to remember in my befuddled state exactly who was aware of my name, and how.
"Night, Hannah," I finally answered, and stumbled out of the side door, the front having been locked up hours ago. The night was dark and cold, stars poking out from the blackness above -- a sure sign of the frost to come. I set off walking and had reached the main road when I heard quick footsteps behind me and felt a hand on my shoulder.
"You forgot your scarf," Hannah said breathlessly, pressing my blue-and-white University scarf into my hands. Her fingers brushed mine and I felt a tingle spread up my arm. She gasped and pulled her hand away, and with a nod of the head she was gone.
That night my dreams were twisted, disjointed parodies of reality, filled with impossibilities. I imagined Hannah and I making love in the church, me with a sleek strap-on thrusting into her tight hole as she leaned backward over a chorister's bench. She was panting, begging for more until I was reeling with my own orgasm, the stimulation of my clitoris increasing each time I entered her, shaking from pleasure yet not wanting to stop until she had reached her climax. The dream became wilder as I found myself on my knees in a room resembling the office I worked in, grasping Hannah's buttocks tightly to hold her still whilst I expertly licked her clit, causing her to shout m, shaking from pleasure yet not wanting to stop until she had reached her climax. The dream became wilder as I found myself on my knees in a room resembling the office I worked in, grasping Hannah's buttocks tightly to hold her still whilst I expertly licked her clit, causing her to shout my name over and over, bucking and writhing in my grasp as I slipped two fingers inside her and massaged that sweet spot.
I awoke dripping with sweat, a wetness between my legs. I could feel my slit burning and my swollen clit throbbing with the tension awakened in my dream. I barely touched myself with one finger before a fiery wave of orgasm after orgasm overtook me, my legs kicking out wildly as involuntary spasms coursed through my whole body. If only I could be with Hannah instead of dreaming about it, life would be truly perfect. I vowed that the next time I saw her would be the day I would sweep her off her feet, one way or another.
The following morning I was up with the lark. Actually, I think I was earlier than the lark, for I heard no bird-song as I walked to my car past the line of trees separating my driveway from the road. The sun was barely poking over the horizon, explaining the slight frost that still lingered on the surrounding gardens. My thinking was this -- the earlier I started work, the earlier I finished and therefore the earlier I would walk into the Queen's Head this evening. My new waterproof vibrator proved a great success in the shower, so much so that I had to wash my private parts several times to remove all traces of my early- morning activities.
I swiped the automatic door-lock and pushed the front door open, managing to slip in just as it swung back towards me. Obviously a burglar deterrent, I thought, for if you don't get out of the way sharpish it could easily trap any number of body parts. Throwing the cursed door a murderous look I proceeded to the office. When I got there I paused, for despite the ungodly hour I could hear a voice on the other side of the office door. Straining my ears I listened breathlessly.
"Mmmm, that's good, honey, now take off your bra...that's it, my girl, ohhhh yessssss..." It was a man's voice, unrecognisable as yet, and I listened for more.
"Looking good, look at those tight ones with their tiny nipples, I just want to suck them, yeah baby...give me more, go on, those knickers look awfully tight, mmm, that's right..."
I pushed open the door just a crack and was taken aback. Dave ("Boring Dave") had his back to me and was facing his computer screen, with headphones over his ears and his trousers and underpants around his ankles. The movement of his right hand left nothing to the imagination -- he was wanking off, no doubt about it.
"Ohhh, what a lovely crack, open it wider for me sweetie, a little more, I want to see everything. Put your finger in, fuck yourself with it, baby, faster, just like that, ooohhhh..." Dave's arm was moving faster, his breathing coming in short gasps now as he neared the end. He carried on talking in the same manner, presumably to a woman on a webcam, for there was nobody else in sight. Finally, with a moan, he jerked in his chair and turned slightly, giving me a full view of his ejaculation as white fluid spurted from his thick, dark cock. Exhausted, he flopped back in the seat and tore the headphones from his ears. Not knowing what else to do, I closed the door silently and retreated to the canteen where I made a coffee and sat for half an hour, pondering over the hidden depths of my colleague's behaviour. What on Earth was the world coming to, I wondered, excusing my own pun. Not that I was prudish in these matters but, well, this was a workplace, full of expensive computer equipment that could easily be damaged by such frivolity. I vowed never to touch anyone else's keyboard again, ever.
I said nothing to Dave all day, only a brief goodbye as I left at four o'clock. He shot me a quizzical look, obviously the thought having crossed his mind that I must have been here early in order to leave at that time, but I smiled and left him wondering. All the way home I was rehearsing what I planned to say to Hannah, but each time I ran though a scene it ended with me stroking her cheek and planting a kiss lightly on her lips, so I gave up. Things never went to plan for me anyway, apart from when I envisaged a worst-case scenario, and I wasn't going to tempt fate by even considering what this might be. Possibly it may involve fire and the police, I mused as I swung my car into the small car park next to the flats.
Passing on another shower (it would have taken quite a while) I got changed, putting on casual black jeans and a dark blue shirt, my trusty leather jacket over the top. I would be freezing on the way to the pub but I didn't care. Just as I left the flat, my mobile phone rang unexpectedly. No number was displayed to show the identity of the caller.
"Hello?" I answered pleasantly, and was pleased to hear the reply.
"Hello my dear, and how are you this fine evening?" It was my best friend, Adam, who had recently moved to this general area though still a fair way away. I grinned.
"Great, thanks, and you? How's the work there?"
"Oh, you know, I suffer in silence." Adam was a vet, currently working as a locum in a fairly quiet rural practice. He had fewer working hours than I did, no nights on-call and two days off each week. "Anyway, I have tomorrow and Saturday off so I thought I might come over your way if that's ok with you."
"Yes, of course, what time do you think you'll get here," I said, checking my watch. It was ten past five.
"Look across the road," came the reply. I obliged and saw an excited-looking Adam waving frantically at me from a hundred yards away.
"Coooo-eeeeeee!" he yelled, and I could hear him both through my phone and down the street. Grinning, I snapped my phone shut and strode over to join him. We hugged warmly, for it had been months since we last parted company, though we remained close friends. Purely platonic of course, but very close. I let go and laughed. What a surprise, a very welcome one. Adam slung one arm around me as we set off up the hill.
"Well, where are we going, young lady," he asked teasingly, nudging me with his elbow. I pushed him away in amused annoyance.
"Pub, the Queen's Head," I replied, "the food is good, beer lovely but a bit pricey. The staff are...interesting". I refused to say any more despite Adam's questioning, and soon we were entering through the heavy oak doors leading into the tap room.
Hannah looked up at me from behind the bar, half-smiled, then looked away. Adam marched straight up to the bar where she stood waiting and ordered two pints of bitter without pause. It's ok for him, I thought, he's not in love with this woman. I sighed and wandered over to my table, discarding my jacket as the fire warmed my hands and feet. My friend joined me, clutching two pints of a dark beer and with a packet of dry-roasted peanuts between his teeth. I grimaced in disgust as I wiped the soggy packet and opened it.
"She's a miserable one," Adam noted, poking his thumb back towards the woman of my dreams. I gulped down several mouthfuls of the cold liquid before I could speak. I shook my head, and Adam waited, head cocked to one side. I told the whole story of my encounters with Hannah, my interest in her ("obsession," said Adam pointedly) and my failed attempt to engage her in conversation, ending with the scarf episode of the previous night.
"That's the most promising one yet," agreed Adam, looking round for the umpteenth time despite me constantly saying "Don't look now!".
"I mean, she followed you out of here into the freezing cold without a coat on, when she would have known full well that you would be back in here pretty soon. And she keeps looking this way too," he added playfully, prodding my arm. I scowled at him but couldn't resist taking a peek at the bar. Hannah was nowhere to be seen. But the night was young, I had the confidence brought on by being with a good friend and courage of the Dutch variety. Fate was on my side, at last.
If you like what you've read, email me, sam_c02uk@yahoo.co.uk If you don't, also email me, bearing in mind that I'm not a professional writer. Cheers!