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Nearly lunch hour
before I am alone in my part of the office. I call Kay, tummy fluttering.
I listen to her beautiful voice, caress her with mine. I ask when we can
get together, for a coffee or something, at my place. She's not sure about
it. We make a tentative date for next Friday night. She'll come over,
maybe a movie, take it from there. Fuck. That's five whole days away. I
have to take it because I can't leave it. I go to the restroom, slip my
panties out from under my skirt, put them in my bag. I call Kay figuring
to somehow get the conversation sexy and tell her I'm not wearing panties,
but she's gone out. In the tram home I sit opposite a beautiful girl of
about twenty-three. I fantasise unbuttoning her blouse, releasing her
small pointed breasts, mouthing her nipples until she hums. I can hear her
soft moans. I cross a thigh, squeeze rhythmically.
The weather has turned exceptionally warm, the nights hot and
uncomfortable in my room. I wish I could sleep. So many hours to think of
my darling Kay, the ways I could please her. Too many hours. For the
fourth time in a night I switch on the bed lamp, get my sexy book,
masturbate but don't come. I am determined that my next climax will be
with Kay, however long that takes. And I vow the next day not to have sexy
thoughts, but in the morning I dress and anyway at the last moment leave
my panties off.
Thursday night Marcel is home, Damien with him. There's a girl sitting
primly with knees pressed together. Seems to be a friend of Damien's. She
throws him adoring glances. Eighteen, just perhaps. Blonde. Freckles.
Breasts like puppy dog's noses. So skinny she'll need to loosen her belt
to get all of him into her peach-fluff pussy.
Marcel's packing a bag and I ask what they are doing. He tells me they're
camping for the weekend. Going over to Damien's tonight. Leaving for the
coast straight after last lecture tomorrow, Friday. Externally I am as
cool with him as ever. Inside I am leaping. I'll need to ring Kay early in
the morning. He says to me, 'Wanna come with us? You look like you could
do with some fun.' I wouldn't go with any of them - except Damien maybe -
anywhere. But he's right.
I do need some fun. Badly.
Once they're gone, Jodie turns up out of her room, seemingly to see what
I'm up to. At least she's wearing clothes. I ask what she's doing tomorrow
night and she says nothing, why? I tell her that Kay's coming over - not
actually having asked her yet. I look Jodie in the eye. 'Get the picture?'
Jodie shrugs, ambles superciliously toward the kitchen. She says
ungraciously she'll stay out of our way. She stops and turns. 'Anyway.
I've got a new friend.' I'm too bored and distracted to follow up with the
required query. So she says in a light prancing voice, 'It hums, never
goes soft, and you don't have to say thank-you afterward. Perfect really.'
I mutter to myself, 'I thought you were a dyke.' Or something irrelevant
like that. She hears and levels me coolly. 'Oh, two can play just as well.
A lot of running around to do, getting stuff ready. An outfit for work
tomorrow, that's easy if not boring and I burn a finger on the iron
thinking of other things. An outfit for tomorrow evening requires a bit
more thought. Finally a black dress, short, simple, sexy. In my bottom
drawer I have been saving a pale blue g-string and bra ensemble for a
special occasion. This is it. Pantyhose too, just to give her something
extra to take off. I love being undressed. And she too is going to love
this. I pass the phone and without thinking pick it up and dial Kay's
number. A long time ringing. A sleepy woman answers, Kay's cousin. Kay
comes on and I say almost in a whisper, 'Still okay for tomorrow night.
Just us.' She thinks about it and says through a yawn that's still all
right with her. I tell her, 'In fact, I'm alone tonight. I don't suppose…'
She says, 'Shit. It's eleven thirty.' Never mind.
I put the iron away, hang my clothes, tidy up. Jodie strolls through the
kitchen, out to the bathroom. She's wearing only a pair of old white
panties. Actually, she seems to float about six inches off the ground, in
her eyes a weird kind of look, lost and beatific. Her heavy breasts swing
as she goes, the nipples smooth but dark and rampant. She comes back and
stands watching me, rubbing her belly in slow circles, up under her
breasts. She pushes one, making it swell out over her hand. It makes me
tingle between the legs to think of Kay doing this.
I'm ready for bed, alone. She follows and hesitates at her door, waiting
for something. It obvious what she's been doing. I ask her, 'How was it?'
She rolls her eyes, searching for the words. 'Six times already.' She
smiles. 'I wouldn't mind six more.' I ignore her and say, 'Goodnight…' I
lay sprawled on my bed staring up at the shadowy depths of the ceiling,
one
hand behind my head. I pull my pussy lips and concentrate on Kay,
rehearsing the evening. The going out, the coming home, a glass of wine,
The Kiss, the invitation to stay. I stroke my clitoris. I feel guilty when
I wonder what she's like down there. Is it proper, even for a lesbian, to
think about such things? And yet I do, secretly. I hadn't even considered
such issues till once I had a woman in my bed and her clitoris was large.
Not so much to look at, but when between my lips it felt like an acorn.
When she was really aroused she'd pull back the skin. Her clit was
complete with shaft and helmet, and pressing with her fingers she could
make it stand up erect. If I moistened my lips and held them lightly
together and pushed, her clitoris would penetrate. That made her moan. And
when she moaned I moaned. When she came she liked me to bite the whole
area, roll it between my teeth. My next lover slapped me on the top of the
head for biting her clit just as she was coming. Easy does it.
The clock shows a quarter after midnight. Maybe a whole twenty-four hours
before Kay is here in my bed. That's tomorrow and right now my fingers are
doing delicious things. I've promised myself yet again not to come without
Kay, but as if. I won't stop now, not once I flick my nipples and grind my
clit. I close my eyes and pant softly. Although nothing very fancy
tonight, just a little rapid fingering, very soon my orgasm creeps,
hesitates, finally takes me by surprise with its power and shuddering
brevity. I know I've cried out. It drains me, leaves me luxuriating in a
wonderful lethargy, like a rush. I reach over to switch off the lamp and
my whole body feels like lead. That should keep me going for a while.
Kay's soft rapping at the front door chills me as if with dread. I feel as
though nothing is ready, I am not ready. I can be stupid sometimes. She's
early and I leave her in the lounge while I finish my hair. I hear her
chatting politely with Jodie, and somehow I don't like this. I hurry to
finish and go and join them. Jodie is all dressed up, her black bag in the
hall. She says, 'I'm staying over at Helen's. I won't be here when you get
back.' I sense the point in her tone, meant just for me. Kay stands aside
waiting to go. She doesn't see Jodie look her up and down critically.
Jodie doesn't think much of her. Who cares.
We go to a secluded bar. Drink and talk, relaxing a bit, getting to know
one another again after the long week. She wants dinner at a quiet
restaurant she goes to, and that's fine with me, but I am not hungry. She
has a good meal while I pick at a calamari. We pass an Irish pub, go in,
find a table. It's nine-thirty and the evening seems to drag. A few
drinks, great music, a few crazy dances, and suddenly it's eleven-thirty.
We dance together. No one notices because everyone is dancing with
everyone anyway. The girl singing with a voice distant and plaintive is
small and slender, red hair billowing, face grossly freckled. Now and then
she watches me and Kay. She knows. I think she also knows I fancy her.
Anonymous in the crowd, Kay and I hold one another in a casual embrace.
The redhead smiles, sings to us. I smile back at her over Kay's shoulder.
She blows what may have been a kiss and my nipples harden. I let Kay feel
them against her. She whispers to me, 'I need another drink.' She stands
at our table, drains her beer and says, 'Can we go?' Nothing has been
said, just a silent communication between us that everything so far is
just fine. Kay's had a few beers, but a wine would be good. We're in no
hurry. She's not going anywhere and I'm not going anywhere. Take our time.
Make it good. Kay goes to the bathroom and I fetch out the wine and
glasses. I check my room, everything perfect. I stop at Jodie's open door,
her room dark and quiet and blissfully empty. Now I can really relax. I go
down and Kay's leaned back in a corner of the couch. She smiles as though
to say, 'Well? What's next?' This is not the time to sit and chat about
the weather. I kiss her.
I lead her by the fingertips to my room. She follows without resistance,
her boots making a slow marching rhythm on the bare boards. I light a
candle and she sits on my bed. Her hair is tangled already, cheeks puffy
and pale in the candlelight. Her eyes glimmer pensively. She has surprised
herself, shocked herself, and come away from the experience tingling,
wanting more. She's enjoyed our kissing on the couch, the fumbling of
hands on clothed bodies, and with this threshold crossed the time for
coyness is over. This is where it all really begins.
I stand before her and smile. I whisper, 'Undress me.' She performs the
task as though a ritual. Behind she unzips my skirt, peels it from my
shoulders. She politely steadies me while I step out of it. She folds it,
places it neatly on the chair by the window. A hesitation. The panty-hose
next. My gold chain. She takes my wrist, removes my watch, puts it on the
desk with elaborate care. From again behind she reaches around under my
arms, lifts the bra carefully up over my breasts, cups them in her hands,
brushes the nipples just to see she is making them hard. I hear her soft
breathing, then once more the ritual begins. She unfastens the bra and
hangs it on my dress. She thumbs my g-string down but resists touching me,
instead kneels, unbuckles my sandals,
slips them from my feet. Next page
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