- Chapter 1 - Intern
- Chapter 2 - First Night
- Chapter 3 - Sacrifice
- Chapter 4 - The Booby Prize
- Chapter 5 - The Toy Box
- Chapter 6 - Mentor
- Chapter 7 - Cayenne
- Chapter 8 - Cha-Cha
- Chapter 9 - Tribute
- Chapter 10 - Sunshine
- Chapter 11 - Rookie
- Chapter 12 - Gratitude
- Chapter 13 - Attire
- Chapter 14 - Image
- Chapter 15 - Spirits
- Chapter 16 - Rules
- Chapter 17 - Coda
- Chapter 18 - Epilogue
Chapter 18 - Epilogue
It is one year to the day since I took a seat at Anita's table in the break room at my office. Of all of the potential anniversaries she and I can claim, the one that led to our friendship and later to our relationship seems the most significant.
This year has seen so much change.
There was no point in trying to get back home with only a day or two left until Christmas, insanely busy travel conditions, and many of our friends being out of town anyway, so we continued our mini-vacation in the hotel. Anita introduced me to holiday traditions in her community, and we had a wonderful time.
On Christmas Day, when I called my mother, I came clean about my travels with my "friend", and why her situation hadn't worked out so well. Naturally, Mom was shocked. The last we'd talked about my relationship status, I'd recently broken up with Jason. That I was not only dating a girl but very serious about her was beyond a surprise. But my parents are resilient and loving, and as soon as Mom recovered from her astonishment, she invited us to visit for New Year. I have to admit that I'd hoped she might do that. As much as Anita and I were enjoying spending time together, this was the first holiday where she was cut off from family, and if she were willing to get to know mine, I knew my mother would do her best to make her feel wanted.
I managed to find last-minute flights, and we stayed with my parents until the New Year. By the time we arrived, they had overcome their concerns - though Mom did take me aside to interrogate on the second day - and had recovered from their surprise. Anita was a huge hit with my family.
So we began this year with a countdown with my parents, followed by the quietest lovemaking we'd ever accomplished in my full-sized teen bed, in a room with walls still covered in posters for One Direction and Miley Cyrus. We headed back home right after New Year's Day.
So I'm now fully out to my family, and Anita is happy to have them in her life.
Anita's mother insulting me was just the final straw pushing my girlfriend into a decision that had been a long time coming. Her older brother and sister had already forsaken the tradition of filial piety in order to thrive independently of their mother's manipulations. Cutting her mother out of her life was harder for Anita, as the last child, and she'd been prepared to weather the insults on her own behalf, but not on mine.
I'm sure that she'll leave the door open to her mother having a change of attitude, but I don't personally think it's likely. Neither do her siblings, with whom she's been working to build less distant relationships. I've met them both now, and they're thoughtful, kind individuals.
Anita returned to her crazy roommates and her place in the cooking rotation for the Spring semester. We resumed our schedule of spending Monday evenings and weekends together, resolving our need for each other on other days with cellphones and self-pleasure.
She does indeed like being spanked. Which I'm pretty sure she knew, given her wide range of experience, but I don't pry. What she did before we started dating isn't relevant, unless she chooses to share. Except for the times she was with me, of course. Those will always be special.
Being spanked is only an occasional pleasure for either of us, though - a treat, especially after a difficult work week or study session. I think it would lose its magic if we indulged too frequently, and there are plenty of other activities just as exciting and erotic. After months together we're still learning about each other.
My girlfriend's life and mine aren't the only ones to have changed. In February, Heather was contacted by a lawyer. She feared that it was fallout from her disconnection from her family, and in a way it was, but not from the direction she'd expected. Her aunt, her father's sister, had passed away, leaving a significant sum of money to Heather. Apparently she had cut her brother out of her life because of his narrow-minded beliefs, and when she heard what he'd done to his own daughter, she wrote Heather into her will. It isn't a vast amount, but with her full time manager salary from the coffee shop, she should be able to support herself through her planned masters degree and doctoral program with some savings remaining.
There was an additional bequest of five thousand dollars to "the woman who supported my niece through her troubles", which was Margot. When she learned this, Heather broke down in tears. Having a barely-known relative leave you an inheritance is something for which to be grateful, but specifically referencing the person who made her new life possible showed that her aunt understood Heather's tribulations. Now she wishes she could have gotten to know her aunt, and introduced Margot to her, before she passed.
Since the facts of Heather being cut off from her family were apparently common knowledge, she has tentatively been reaching out to other family members. She's pretty sure a relationship with her parents is a lost cause, but there are others who are not part of her parents' hard-line religion.
Cyndy's ownership of the coffee shop is complete. Or at least the bank's ownership, since she was able to secure a loan to replace Pam's temporary financing, and now Pam, the previous owner, is fully retired. Income and profitability have risen steadily since Cyndy took over. Since her responsibilities have changed, she has promoted Heather to her old position of manager. Her friend Dylan had more seniority, but Dylan wanted to reduce her hours to work on her comic project.
The comic almost caused Dylan and Austin to break up. Austin's investment in his characters caused him to want a happy ever after ending for his human protagonist. Dylan, who writes powerful stories, felt that the protagonist needed to die heroically. They were only able to reach a compromise when a well-respected studio became involved, proposing development of a sequel series. Since the sequel would require the protagonist to survive, Dylan banished him to the most distant realms of faerie, as an enemy of both Queens. Austin was so captivated by the idea, he created a horrific cliff-hanger final panel showing his protagonist's torment. Sales of the original series were high, and both of them are now negotiating the second and third series with the studio, which will necessarily begin with the protag's rescue. Or escape. They're still arguing about that.
Fi returned to Gabby's after Thanksgiving last year, which I was happy to see. Since then she's been more active. I've seen her leave with a few different girls, now. She's friendly toward Anita and me, and she no longer seems to look at me with regret.
Alex continued her Monday night pilgrimages until midway through the Spring semester, earning a reputation for being an imaginative, sexy newcomer. Then, like me, she tossed her status aside to date. Except that she's with a guy. She claims that a) it's not all about sex, but b) she's trained him using everything she learned during her Monday night trysts, and he's incredible in bed. (Perhaps I should state it as Alex would - "He's incredible in bed?")
Her boyfriend found a job in aircraft manufacturing, while Alex found an entry-level position in chemical engineering in the same town. They're in the process of moving to the southeast. I'm disappointed to lose her, but as she said, "Texts reach anywhere? Unless I go to the moon. It might happen?"
Ann is also leaving the area. She was accepted into an East Coast law school. She claims that she will be focusing on business law, not using a law degree to transition into politics. If she changes her mind, I will fear for the future.
Lovely teenager Kennedy stayed with Monday night hookups until almost Christmas, then she dropped out to vacation with her new girlfriend, Grace. They still visit Gabby's, but they're exclusive. They both seem ludicrously happy, on a par with Anita and me. But they have three more years of school, and they're very young, so their interests may yet change.
Michelle is divorcing her wife. They've been together for about a decade, married since Obergefell. Michelle is twenty-eight, her wife is mid-thirties. Reading between the lines, it seems that her wife swept up a cute, vulnerable teen from a blue collar background into a comfortable middle-class life, then increasingly abandoned her for her career and women of her own social standing. Michelle's pretty certain that she wasn't the first to cheat.
I'm much more sympathetic toward her now. She should have left the marriage years ago. I've met her a few times for coffee - only coffee, obviously - and her lawyer seems to think that the property distribution will keep her out of hardship. I had worried that if her wife had learned about me or any of Michelle's groupies that it would affect the split, but the lawyer claims that wouldn't happen.
Tiff is looking for work, and as an engineer, she may find it at the same company as Anita and me. The idea makes me nervous...
Yes, Anita and I work together now, though on different teams. She emailed her hiring manager to ask if there was an issue with an existing relationship with an employee. Manager said as long as neither is the other's supervisor it would be fine.
Of course, PDAs at work are out, which Anita uses from time to time to frustrate me. Especially since she did invest in a garter belt, and makes a point of sitting on the corner of my desk, ankles crossed, at an angle that just lets me view the tops of her stockings under her dark skirt.
Margot has accepted a summer intern position as an economist with a local government agency. It's supposed to be an undergrad position, and she's now graduated, but it will give her the experience she needs to work as an economist. She may apply for a position at the agency after summer, or she may look for work with a local business. Economics grads tend to head for either coast, so there's some local demand, and of course she wants to stay local to be with Heather in her postgrad studies.
The intern position doesn't pay well, but with Heather's aunt's bequest she's in a much better position than she was while a student. She, Heather, Emma and Tiff plan to continue living together, but move into a much better rental house.
Emma's returning to school for a masters in education. Unlike Heather, she's not planning to continue on to a doctorate. She intends to teach sciences in high school.
When Tiff learned that she and Margot would be joining the workforce, while Heather and Emma are heading to grad school, she suggested that a partner swap was in order. Like many of her jokes, it fell flat. Heather especially seemed to turn green. Only Emma was amused, because she knows her girlfriend like no other. I like Tiff, and I think a lot of her unfunniness is funny. (And calculated to be that way.) She's like a walking pun. No one will admit they like puns, but everyone privately chuckles.
And I think that catches up on the stories of my close friends and those whose life intersected mine over the past year. Well, not including those whose statuses haven't changed. Imani and Clare, for instance, graduate next year. Alan has been out of college for a while. So those three will continue to be regulars at Gabby's.
After her finals, Anita moved in to my apartment, so we've been living together for about two months now. She and I, along with Emma, Tiff, and Margot, had her belongings moved in an afternoon. She sold her bed and dresser, since they wouldn't fit into my place.
Her roomies are all scattering to different locations. Jiao and Mey are even heading back to China, though Mey has applied for a visa to allow postgrad studies on the West Coast. So her crazy found family is breaking up, which makes me sad. They've promised to stay in touch.
She and I haven't combined our finances, we're just splitting rent and living expenses. She's teaching me a good amount about her style of cooking and food prep, though she insists she loves whatever I make.
We travel to work together, of course, and it didn't take long for our work colleagues to make the connection, but our behavior is professional - even when I wish it didn't have to be; even when she stops by my cube in skirt and stockings - so no one has a problem. We regularly go to Happy Hour, where we've occasionally been observed to hold hands, but that's outside working time.
So today is the anniversary of our meeting, and Anita wanted to celebrate. We invited our closest friends to our place: Emma, Tiff, Margot, and Heather - who fortunately could arrange her schedule to give herself the evening off.
Since they all live together, they arrived by Uber and will leave by Uber. None of them need to be the designated driver. Wine is flowing freely; the sparkling wine I started to keep in stock months ago, after my night with Danielle.
That was a different era. I don't regret participating in hookup culture, and I don't regret giving it up.
Sometimes I see a pretty girl and wish I'd met her nine months ago, but it's idle musing. No one is as hot, lively, pretty, smart, sexy - and did I mention hot? - as my One True Love. She's watching me now, one eyebrow slightly raised, probably wondering what I'm thinking. If she knew, she wouldn't berate me for it. She'd know that she's the only one I want to be with.
And while I'm happy that Anita gave up that life for me, I don't in any way regret that she lived it for so long, either, for many reasons. First, and most important, there is absolutely nothing wrong - and much right - in giving and taking pleasure in the arms of a lover, as long as neither of you is violating a commitment and you protect your heart (and your body) from the consequences of casual encounters.
Second, that Anita needed to find release from her trauma at the hands of her abusive ex. Sharing intimacy without commitment allowed her to recover her trust in others, while not putting herself at the risk of a betrayal of that trust. If she hadn't reached that point, she wouldn't be in my life now.
Third, that she focuses all of her learned sensual experience on me. And not just in worshiping me in the bedroom, but in everyday life, knowing how to read my moods and my desires, and knowing that I also worship her.
As sunset approaches, Tiff and Emma walk out onto my tiny balcony to take in the view. Tiff points at the golf club. They move over to the left, and I see them holding hands through the curtain.
I have vanilla ice cream and fresh strawberries for a treat for my friends. I arrange everything into bowls, gesturing to the dessert, forks and spoons. Those inside gather around.
Tiff and Emma aren't visible through the curtain. They must have moved toward the end of the balcony. Without thinking, I poke my head through the door. "There's ice cream and str... oh, crap."
They startle as I catch sight of them. Tiff has Emma pinned to the wall, one hand high under her taller girlfriend's shirt, the other inside her jeans, which are unfastened, and an inch or two too low. Meanwhile, her own shirt is lifted to her armpits, and I can't help having glimpsed rounded flesh and an erect nipple.
I hold my hand against the side of my head as a blinker, looking out over the woods. "I didn't see anything. Let's work with that, okay? Just come in when you're ready. No hurry. I'll close the door to prevent anyone else being a dumbass like me. Oh, and please don't fall over the ledge. I'd like my friends to be in my life for a long time, okay?"
Sliding the door closed, I move back to the table, my cheeks burning. "Emma and Tiff might... be a while," I say.
"That's okay," says Margot. "If their ice cream starts to melt I'll save the evening by eating it. And judging by the look on your face, if they were to return return now, they would melt it themselves."
Heather's cheeks are as red as mine must be, but they flame when she says to Margot, in a voice just loud enough for us all to hear, "Maybe we should take our turn when they're done, lover."
Margot seems as shocked as the rest of us, but she recovers quickly. "Let's find something special when we get home, honey. Though if you like the idea of making out in public, there's a tree at the golf club that I've heard has a reputation."
That's more than acting exhibitionist-flirt Heather can take, and she stares at the table as her face reddens further.
Tiff and Emma finally rejoin us, both looking very pleased with themselves. "We were... uh... watching the lights appearing at the golf club," Emma said. "Tiff suggested we should all eat there someday."
"We were just considering a trip to the golf club," Margot pipes up. "We should make it happen."
Anita stands. There's a strange look on her face. She seems... apprehensive? She's beside the glass shelves below the TV, holding a glass of wine.
"Before Kayla breaks out the tequila..." she begins.
Tiff interrupts. "There's tequila?"
Anita ignores her. "While we're still fairly sober, I want to make a toast."
Everyone stands. Tiff and Margot, whose glasses were getting low, top them up from the bottle on the coffee table.
Anita thanks everyone for their friendship and support over the past few years, and proposes a toast to many more of the same. Heartfelt, for all of us, but not something that would account for her current disquieted expression.
Then she turns to me. She must be planning to toast our relationship. "I want to remind you of the Halloween party."
"I wasn't sober then," I offer.
"You were earlier in the evening," Anita says. "Do you remember your costume?"
"Of course I do. I was Link," I reply. "And you were the cutest grim reaper ever."
Her face has turned a lovely rose color. A deeper shade than the memory would seem to justify.
"I suggested a phrase any girl in her right mind should have said to you," she says.
I frowned as I recalled the evening. "It was, 'It's dangerous to go alone. Take me.'" I said. There were a few chuckles.
"It's still true," Anita says. She sets her glass down behind her on the TV shelf, picking up something that was obscured by a couple of blu-ray disks.
"It's dangerous to go alone," she says, opening the small box and presenting it to me. "Take me?"
The stone is pale blue, set in a lustrous, coppery ring. Rose gold. I heard a couple of indrawn breaths as Anita opened the box. Now the silence is so profound it's hard to believe there are only six of us standing quietly.
I set down my glass, then reach out to lift the ring from its case. The sapphire is cornflower blue, the precise color of my eyes, and as clear as an alpine lake. "Anita..." I breathe. I can't see the ring as clearly now. My glasses don't seem to be working correctly.
Finally, I look up into my girlfriend's now clearly nervous expression. "Do you recall what I suggested they should say for your outfit?"
"Uh... you can always take my soul, I think?" Anita replies.
"Except you already have it, love," I say, my hand shaking as I give the ring back to her to slip it onto my ring finger. I open my arms to her. "Of course I'll marry you. Did you have any doubt?"
She shrugs slightly as I take her into my arms. Whatever she says is lost in the cheering of four very enthusiastic young women.
I kiss my fiancée deeply as the cheers turn to laughter. Of course, Tiff is the one to tell us to "get a room."
"We will, I promise," I say, stepping back from the kiss, but holding Anita's hand tightly.
Tiff proposes a toast to the happy couple. Anita and I beam at them, hand in hand. Then I offer them a toast, "To our future wedding party." Anita joins me enthusiastically.
"So, uh. What's the protocol now?" I ask the room at large. "Do I get my fiancée a ring, too?"
Surprising me, Heather is the one who answers. "You can," she says. "You can do anything you choose. You can be the one who wears the single ring, since you were proposed to. You can wear matching rings. You can wear entirely different rings. You can find matching wedding rings that complement different engagement rings. You can propose to Anita with a ring you choose, or you both choose. I think that's a very sweet option. What?"
Heather pauses as four pairs of eyes turn to study her. Significantly, Margot is looking elsewhere.
"You seem to have a remarkable amount of knowledge at your fingertips," Tiff suggests. "Is there something you'd like to share with the group?"
Heather has turned scarlet. "I..."
Margot whispers something to her. "But that would be hijacking their celebration," I hear her reply, though I don't think she intends me to. Margot whispers something else, and takes her hand.
Still with a deep blush, Heather asks me, "Do you want to know now?"
I glance at Anita, giving her a nod when she looks at me questioningly. "We love you," Anita says, turning to Heather. "If there's something to celebrate you'll only make us even happier."
"We're not technically engaged," said Heather, "so I guess it's okay, because we're not making an announcement, but we're having matching rings made. Then we'll make an announcement."
I set my glass down again. Still without releasing Anita's hand, I wrap Heather up in a hug, then Margot. Somehow Tiff and Emma join in, which is all fine, except untangling ourselves is an exercise in topology.
"Who asked who?" Tiff wants to know.
"We just knew," Heather says. "When Margot asked me if we wanted to get matching rings, I knew it was right for us. Which doesn't mean it's right for you," she says to me. "I did research and every queer couple has their own engagement story."
"I agree with your suggestion," I say. "I like the idea of a separate proposal with a ring that suits Anita as much as I think this suits me." Then I grin at my fiancée. "I wonder what your answer will be."
"I might surprise you," she replies, with a smirk.
No one asks Emma and Tiff when they'll join the ranks of the engaged. Just as with rings, each couple sets their own timetable. They may decide they don't need the formal recognition. They may simply wait.
Also, only Tiff among us would be rude enough to ask.
My suspicion is that it will be soon. Probably after summer, when Tiff's established in a new job and Emma is back at school.
Since Anita has now promised tequila, I begin mixing margaritas on the rocks for everyone.
Only Heather remains perfectly sober. She's been old enough to drink longer than any of us. I was surprised to learn that she's slightly older than me. But she doesn't like to lose control. I've never seen her more than the slightest buzzed.
Of all of us, only Heather is a churchgoer. She suffered badly at the hands of organized religion, but instead of turning from it, she found a place that is welcoming to all, and which practices the teachings of love, not hate and exclusivity. I don't believe in her God and savior, but if he were to exist, she is the kind of follower he would desire, not those who condemn Heather for her nature, or who would have trapped Kennedy into a loveless marriage with a boy.
Her partner is less restrained. Margot has had a couple of my strong margaritas now, on top of the wine. She's far from drunk, but her words are coming out a little muzzy. The looks she gives her girlfriend are a mix of affection and pride. When she's sober it's obvious that she loves Heather, but there's truth in tequila, and pride in her partner is clear in her expression.
With her worldly experience, Margot could have molded Heather into who she wanted her to be. Instead, she has grounded her while letting her continue to become her own woman, and the two have grown together like twined ficus trunks, making each other stronger.
Tiff reminds me of a kitten. I'd never dare tell her that, but she's inquisitive and impulsive. It was her kitten curiosity that led her almost literally to fall into another girl's bed, discovering only then that she'd stumbled not only into something that was missing from her life, but into the one person who could give it to her. Emma has been her only girlfriend, and she'll never want another.
But right now she's holding forth about setting up an "intimate" space for studies at the new house, and since trading Emma for Margot was vetoed, she's decided she'll be Heather's "study partner," making the proposed room sound like a love nest.
Emma is watching Tiff, bemused. She often seems that way. She seems a little surprised to have Tiff in her life. From what they've told me, she hadn't looked for it, when they were just roomies. She was content, studying hard, playing hard. Then she and Tiff discovered what they could have together, and it was better than either of them imagined.
Anita thinks of Emma as a mountain - when she needed help, she was always there, always stable. Emma's friendship toward my fiancée never wavered. Not when Anita needed strength to escape Julie. Not when they were lovers, later. I have the impression she and Anita may have been together for more than the prescribed one night, but they trusted each other so much at that point it wasn't an issue between them. I kinda hope they were, honestly. They both deserve it.
These four - Heather, Margot, Tiff, Emma - I hadn't even met them a year ago, but they're closer to me now than any friend I've ever had, save Anita. She and I are going to have to share them as bridesmaids when we marry...
God, marry. The cute Chinese girl with the gorgeous long hair whom I so crushed on, who made me have to squeeze my thighs together just by leaning over me at work, she just asked me to marry her! How is that even possible?
I continue the daydream. If they're our bridesmaids, how do we divide them between us? Oh, Anita has to have Emma, of course. They were friends before any couple here. So she gets Tiff, and I get Margot and Heather.
Hold on. I bet Anita will want Allison, the lovely redhead I thought she was dating. She's been Anita's friend for as long as Emma. So she has three, and I have two. No, wait. I think I need Alex at my side, too. So, three and three. That's perfect.
Emma seems finally to have convinced Tiff that the only love nest she's going to have in the new place is their shared bedroom.
I love Tiff. I love them all. But they're summoning a ride to get home. Which will leave me with the woman I'm in love with, so as much as I hate to see them leave, I want my alone time with Anita, too.
"I bet that they'll be naked by the time we've reached ground level," Tiff says, casually. "Say, fifteen seconds per flight of stairs, that's thirty seconds after they close the door. That sounds about right."
"And how are you going to check?" asks Anita. "Climb two flights of stairs? I promise we're not opening the door."
"Right, 'cause you'll be naked," Tiff persists. "Not that I fault you. Either of you."
Emma rolls her eyes. She grins as she steers her girlfriend out of the door. "Goodnight, you two."
The others echo her salutation.
I turn to Anita and take both of her hands in mine. "I hope it takes a whole lot longer than thirty seconds," I say, drawing her close.
When we kiss, I don't tilt my head much, so my lips lie against hers rather than at an angle, our noses brushing together. We can't kiss deeply like this, but I can take her upper lip between mine and gently suck on it, even as she toys with my lower lip. Her slender frame shivers against me, and I caress the small of her back.
Her chest rests against mine, and I imagine that I can feel her racing heart against my breasts. Perhaps it's just my own. She's not wearing her skirt and stockings, just casual shorts, so I lower my fingers and ease them over her hips. They slip down her legs with no resistance.
Anita draws back, then runs her fingers lightly over my top. It's a black crop shirt, with a wide square neck and heavy straps, tight, with buttons. She begins to unfasten the buttons. "If you wanted to delay getting naked," she says, "you wouldn't wear such an easy access top."
I chuckle. "And if you were really in a hurry, you'd have pulled my shirt up," I counter. "You don't need to unfasten it."
"I like to discover your body," she says, her eyes on my collar bone as she continues to unfasten buttons. "It's worth not rushing."
I know what she means. We've been together for about eight months, and every time we're close I feel that she's more precious to me than I could have imagined. I always want to take my time with her, stretching every moment. I rarely succeed, because she excites me too much, but that's equally precious.
Looking back, though, it was always that way. Even before we became exclusive. Back to the first night we spent together; our first kiss on the patio, the thrill that felt it would tear my heart from my chest. The sense that she found me precious, too. Neither of us knew what we'd unleashed on that night, but I think we both were aware that there was something more than lust between us.
I don't believe in fate, in soulmates, in Cupid, or in divine pairings, but there's no need for a supernatural explanation when two people fit together as well as we do. Who trust each other as we do. Even before that night, when she sought my guidance, or later, when I looked to her to mentor me in matters of the heart.
"My thoughts exactly," I say, running my fingers around the waistband of her panties, then lightly brushing them down the fabric at the front.
"Are you checking if I'm wet for you yet?" Anita asks. "Because I have been this whole evening."
I shudder at the arousal her words inspire. "So have I," I breathe, gently touching the damp in the front of her underwear.
My shirt falls open, and Anita's hands slide over my breasts. I'm not wearing a bra. The shirt was tight enough to provide its own support. She lifts her face to kiss me again, and this time I angle my head so that our mouths can meld together. She moans softly into the kiss, arousing me further.
Drawing my fingers up to her waist, I slide them under her shirt and hold her body to mine. She fits so well against me. Then I lift her shirt. She raises her arms to let me take it off before moving back. "That wasn't taking your time," she chides.
"No buttons," I argue. "I do what I must."
She laughs, then as our lips meet again she draws the wide straps over my shoulders, letting the shirt fall. Of course she also isn't wearing a bra. She usually does at the office, but never at home. Her nipples press into the lower side of my breasts. Then I feel her tugging at my shorts, and in a few moments they've slid down to my ankles.
"Take me to bed," Anita whispers.
"Of course," I reply. "I want you so much..."
"I want you too, Kay," she murmurs.
I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom.
"Just you and me," I say, softly, as we stand by the bed. "No toys, no ropes, just our bodies... I want to feel you against me."
"Yes," Anita breathes.
I ease my panties down, letting them drop as I slide onto my back in the center of the bed. When Anita joins me, hers have vanished, too. She moves onto me, but lower on my body, her mouth to my right breast. She begins to kiss the sides of my breast, parting her lips wide, nuzzling as she sucks.
Her kisses travel all around the edge of my breast. My nipple swells slightly, even though she isn't touching it. I'm feeling overwhelmed by affection for this woman, this person who has become everything to me. I run my fingers through her hair, parting it, pulling it gently to the side. She smiles up at me before continuing her efforts.
She moves her mouth to the center of my breast, taking it between her lips, and drawing her face back slowly as she suckles. My breath catches as a wave of arousal flows into me, and I feel my nipple tighten further, the area around it hardening under her tongue.
Still playing with Anita's hair, I move my left hand down her body and beneath her, finding her right breast to caress. As I do, her hand moves to my left breast, squeezing gently as she suckles the right.
Lowering my hands to her waist, I shift her body to my right, so that I can fit my right thigh between her legs. Her sex touches my upper thigh, and I lift my knee so that my leg presses against her. Then I wrap my left leg around her, pressing it to the back of her thighs, holding her close to me. She groans against my breast, spiking my arousal.
Still holding her waist, I begin to move her against my thigh. Her hand squeezes my breast firmly, but for a while she doesn't respond to the movement, until her body presses into mine and she moans. Then her hips roll slowly, her thighs moving with the motion of my hands.
When she switches to suckling my left breast, I caress her waist with my fingers. She no longer needs the gentle push of my hands. Her hips rock against me now, and I'm tightening my left leg behind her calves with each stroke. Her breathing is heavy. As is mine.
After a time, she lifts her face from my breast, then slides up my body. She doesn't kiss my lips. Instead, she nuzzles her face against my neck and shoulder, her breasts pressed to mine as she continues to rock her hips against my thigh. Now her own thigh is pressed to my sex, and we move against each other, our legs threaded together.
We move together for a long time, content to hold each other as our bodies slide against each other in a slow rhythm. Occasionally I feel Anita's lips against my neck. Her breathing, like mine, is rough. I sense her need, as surely she senses mine, but we allow our desire for each other to grow steadily, not yielding to impatience.
After a time, Anita's hips stop their motion, and she shifts off my thigh, drawing her knees together, so that her legs are between mine. Her sex caresses mine as we begin to move again. I wrap my legs around hers, caressing the backs of her calves with my feet, and kiss her ear.
She moans softly, still resting her head on my shoulder. I nip at her earlobe with my teeth. Her breath catches and I feel her body shiver against mine.
She is so beautiful, and her body fits so perfectly to mine.
I think I began to fall in love with her on the day we met, in the breakroom, when I felt a pang of desire for her. It wasn't only lust that grew within me over those weeks before our first night together. It was something deeper. Something that built on the lust, certainly, but something that wanted to be with her.
During my time at Gabby's I learned much, had strong feelings for my partners, and shared some wonderful erotic moments with them, but the desire to be with Anita never left me. Now I can learn from her, have strong feelings from her and share erotic moments with her, but all of those are just part of being with her. My heart fills with joy, and I begin to run my fingers through her hair again, spreading it out over my body.
Anita raises her face, smiles at me, then slowly moves closer. I extend my tongue, encountering hers, and groan at the sudden inflow of passion. Our tongues join, twirl and caress between us before she closes the gap, her lips pressed to mine.
I begin to pant. My need swells within me. My body tingles wherever Anita's touches it. My legs, wrapped around hers. My sex, sliding against hers, my clit swollen and sensitive. My belly, which twitches with arousal as we move. My breasts, my nipples firm and areolae swollen, being squeezed and moved by hers. My face, my lips, my tongue - they all feed the fires burning within me.
Running the fingers of both hands through her hair I sense the unaccustomed touch circling my finger. I raise my hand. A glint of pale blue catches my eye. Anita's promise that she will stand beside me as we make a greater pledge to one another.
Drawing back from the kiss, I look into her eyes. They are dark with desire, far darker than their usual chocolate shade. My voice buzzes with desire, as I ask, "Is it really going to happen, love?"
She grins. Her own voice rasps as she replies, breathlessly, "I think it's going to happen very soon, love."
"Not that," I say, with a hoarse chuckle. The quivering of our bodies together makes me moan again. "You and me," I manage. "Married?"
"God, yes," she breathes. "I'm never letting you go, Kay."
"I..." I begin, then think better of it. I cup the back of her head, drawing her down, then fastening my lips to hers.
We each moan into the kiss as I feel love for this woman welling up again within me. My back arches, thighs tensing. Anita lifts her face from mine as she cries out. As my arousal ignites into orgasm, I feel Anita's body convulse against me. I wrap my arms tightly around her as our bodies catch fire. We moan together, writhing against each other.
Much later, we slip between the sheets. I nestle into Anita's body as she rolls partly onto me. "I love you," I say.
"I love you, too, Kay," Anita says, then relaxes against me.
We'll probably have a long engagement. We've only known each other a year. We probably owe it to ourselves not to rush, to learn how our lives will merge together. But she is my life now, and I'm hers, and always will be.