She looks at me. Her eyes are wide and caring, her smile sweet. I am entirely keyed up, having had an absolutely awful day at school. She holds me in a long embrace, running her fingers up and down my spine until slowly those tense muscles begin to relax. "It's ok, babe," she whispers softly in my ear, her voice low and comforting, "You're here with me now. Forget about everything else."
There has been something developing ever since we met years ago. I know she is a lesbian. My own sexuality is more vague. I've only dated boys, but that's all I've had the opportunity to do. Often I find myself harboring serious attractions to women, but I am mostly too shy to admit them. My feelings for her began as admiration. She is one of the most warm, understanding and generous people I know. Not only that, but she's also brilliant and funny. I care for her more than anyone else I know. Lately she has casually mentioned several times that she thinks I'm attractive. Each time I've felt myself blush, with a wave of heat coming over my body.
Now after a horrible day I am too exhausted to be shy. All I can think about is relief. She is the only person I want to be around now, I came here immediately longing to be in the tenderness that surrounds her. Here in her room everything else seems to fade away: nothing exists but her.
After holding me for awhile in her arms, she begins to massage my arms and shoulders. My whole body melts into relaxation; I am like putty in her hands. Then she stops and turns me around to face her. "Feeling better?" I nod gratefully, wishing she would touch me again. "Mia..." her voice sounds very soft. As she takes my hand and fixes her eyes on me, I'm surprised to see uncertainty in her expression. She is usually one of the most self-assured people I know. "Mia, What would you think if I asked to kiss you?"
My face gets hot, the rest of me soon follows. My heart is racing. I open my mouth to speak. "Ohhhh..." is all that comes out. She is still holding my hand, and I feel a surge of warmth connecting us. With her other hand she brushes the hair back from my face and leans toward me, very delicately letting her lips rest on my cheek. Then she sits back calmly and studies my face. "Oh, Lucy." I squeeze her hand. Searching for words, few come to mind. "You are...this is...I just..." I pull together the courage to look her in the eye, and hold her gaze steadily. Then I close my eyes, trying to collect my thoughts.
Still I keep my eyes closed, even as I can feel the warmth of her body nearing. Her arm curves around my back, drawing me closer. Then her lips are on mine, and the world tilts dizzyingly. There is nothing I want more than to be united with her. I open my eyes, and she pulls back slightly. "Ok there, Mia?"
"Oh yes." I pull her closer to me. "Yes." Hungrily I reach towards her for more of what I have just had the first taste of. Who knows how long we are locked in this warm embrace, pulling each other closer, tasting and exploring. Her mouth is gentle, but there is a certain eager firmness behind it. I also feel hungry, wanting to be as near to her as possible, wanting her inside me. Finally we ease back apart.
"Wow," she says eventually. "That was some bit more than I'd let myself hope..." My pulse is pounding in my ears. Slowly I find anxiety and confusion overtaking even my enormous desire for her.
"What's going on? I'm sorry, I want so much to be with you, but I don't...I don't know if I'm ready for this. For what it could mean." It's a stupid thing to say, but it feels true.
Concern enters her face, but it's twinged with patient irony. "I hope I haven't frightened you, my dear."
"No. It's just...I don't think I even know how to be a dyke. I don't even know what to do."
Despite the ridiculousness of what I've said, she looks at me seriously. Again, she takes my hand. "I could show you." she says softly. "Only if you want, though. Mia, you know I don't want to pressure you into anything you don't want. Or make you uncomfortable."
"Oh, I want it, don't you see? But that's exactly what I'm uncomfortable with. Besides, sometimes I need someone to make me uncomfortable, to push my boundaries a little. I want this. I dunno though...I mean, it sounds dumb, but I just don't know what to do with all these feelings I have. This isn't exactly something I expected."
She takes a deep breath and responds. "Well, Mia. Let me put it like this. I think you're very pretty. On top of that, you are one of my best friends. To be honest, I've been attracted to you for quite awhile. Now you seem to have had a rough day, and I'd like to take your mind off of it, if I can. I'd like to think I know a thing or two about making a girl feel good. The last thing I want, though, is to add to your worries. If you want this, you have to promise to relax, to trust me, and to forget about everything else. Do you want this?"
I am amazed by how straightforward she is. I want more than anything to turn myself over to her. She is like a haven for me. Slowly, I nod. She lets out a heavy breath, then stands up. With her hand placed lightly on my lower back, she leads me to the bedroom. It has a somewhat smoky but appealing smell. Her bedcovers are maroon, and her furniture is dark heavy oak. I sit gingerly on the bed and she eases down next to me. The comforter is very soft, as is the mattress; we both sink into it considerably. All around there is silence, except for our own breath filling the air. I feel familiar warm waves flow down my body: a state of sweet, prickly awareness. Now that it has been decided I will give myself to her, I no longer worry about knowing what to do.
She smiles at me and begins to gently stroke my hair. Her hands are white and smooth. Pleasurable shudders run through my body as I sink back into the mattress with a sigh. Very slowly and delicately she moves over me, straddling my waist with her weight carefully balanced on her knees. Still, I can feel her hot center through both her pants and my shirt. My mouth waters and my hands tingle. I want more. Her hands move from my hair to my throat, continuing to caress. I close my eyes to concentrate on the blissful feeling of contact. She leans over me and begins to plant light, airy kisses on my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, the very edge of my mouth. When I can take it no more, I reach up and pull her head towards mine so that our lips crash together in a long, deep kiss. When they break apart once again, we are both panting.
She begins to kiss my neck, now. As she does, her hands move down to the collar of my shirt. They hesitate there briefly, and then begin to unbutton my shirt. The feeling of the air on the skin of my chest and abdomen causes me to gasp suddenly. She adjusts back farther, sitting over my pelvis, then helps me pull out of the shirt. "Mia," she says earnestly looking at the view, "You have a wonderful body. Wonderful. And I'm not just saying that to get in your pants." At the thought of her in my pants, my hips involuntarily move up towards her. She smiles and lean over towards me, kissing my face and lips again, placing one hand on my hip and one lightly on my neck.
I want this to go slow enough to last forever, but at the same time I urgently want it all now. I am relieved that she is taking the lead, and her pacing is perfect. My hands are on her waist. Slowly, boldly, I move them up under the hem of her shirt. The smooth, warm skin of her back feels amazing on my fingers. "Ah," she says, quickly sitting up and yanking off her shirt.
At the sight of her body, I cannot help but stare. A small sigh of approval escapes me. "Mmmm." But then...god, how can I ogle her like that? What's wrong with me? "Oops, sorry" I quickly mutter, slightly ashamed.
"Sweetie, don't be sorry. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, for one thing. I think you're wonderful. For another, this is beautiful, no apologies, ok?" she says softly.
"Ok, you're right. I was just embarrassed."
"Don't be, darling." she whispers in my ear. "Now I'm going to take off your bra. If you don't mind, that is."
"I don't mind..." I whisper, too soft to hear. But it doesn't matter because already her hands have reached around to my back and deftly unhooked my bra, which she then slides off. My breasts briefly feel cold and exposed until they are quickly sheltered by the touch of her warm, gentle hands. I sigh as she cradles them then, but my sigh turns to a groan as she begins steady, circular strokes. My hips begin to grind, rocking her as she sits on me.
She rises up and brings her face to my chest. Her lips replace her hands as she begins to lightly kiss the sides of my breasts. She leans on one hand while the other goes to my thighs. Gently she applies pressure between my thighs. It doesn't take me long to realize what is going on and with a shiver of excited anticipation, I part my legs in response. She places a thigh between my own, pinning my pelvis to the bed with her femur.
I am consumed by her gentle persuasion and my own pounding pulse, which beats through my body and shakes my ears. I am at her mercy as her softly subversive touch travels all over my body: my naked breasts, abdomen and back, my thighs. Most of all it is the lightness and deftness of her fingers. Most of all it is the sweet concentration in her blue eyes, the intensity blurred with kindness. Her fingers tease...down my abdomen, then jumping to my thigh. Stopping every now and then to stroke my cheek, kiss my face, my hungry mouth. Then her touch back up my thigh jumping to my abdomen. With a smile, she carefully traces the outline of my hip using only her fingertip. I can hear myself gasping and sighing; that makes her smile, too. She has all the time in the world, and she's going to give it to me slowly.
When she knows I am hers entirely, when she knows I can take it no longer, she decides to test the waters. Watchfully she moves her leg from between my thighs and presses her hand there, slowly applying more and more pressure. She must be able to feel how wet I am through my pants. I am outside of myself as my hips grind slowly against her hand and a low moan escapes my chest. She is all that exists for me, her hand and my intense desire in symbiosis. Sensing my need, she quickly unzips my pants, and I soon feel the heaven of her bare hand on my sensitive skin. Her touch, her brief carresses become my world, and I am pushing, pulling, wanting more, more, more, and she gives me just that.
"Come on, babe, c'mon." she murmurs softly, her urgent words matching my urgent needs. She is pulling me through the fire, the pain of need, to the immensely pleasurable relief of satisfaction. "C'mon babe, come on." Her words, her body, her touch, all anchor me as I lose myself in the enormity of pleasure, as my body and my being seem to split open to pull me out of myself and welcome her in. She is the blood fiercely pounding through my veins and I am even more weightless than the air that heavily surrounds us. I combust, a shooting star, a ball of gas burning for eternity, and she is the fuel of my fire, my center of gravity, the center of me. "Come on, babe," one last time, a moan.
Then suddenly I plunge, falling breathlessly back down through the heavens, holding on to her as we pitch into a dizzying breathtaking downward spiral, finally landing with hard impact back into the bed, that sweaty twist of sheets. Our sweat mingles together, our bodies mingle together. The line is blurred between us, a sweaty tangle of limbs.
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