A/N The tender feels and what these two women have to offer is something very special that you feel the flutter in you just grow that butterflies begin to roam and you have no idea whether or not to cry or smile or just do both at the same time. As long as these magnificent women are happy and thriving, so should you be.
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Dance with Me
Carol watched with a small indulgent smile as Therese carefully but excitedly placed and then set the needle down on the spinning vinyl disc.
The first several songs were upbeat. Carol simply puffed on her cigarette as she silently watched and very much enjoyed as Therese bobbed her head to the music being emitted from the record player. The younger woman was oblivious to the attention as she was lost in both the music as well as the miniature cardboard set she was constructing on their living room floor.
If asked, Carol would have said she was completely content to spend the whole evening just listening to the record and just watching this other person who had occupied her life since the moment they met.
And she wouldn't have been lying. She was content with that. But then... there was a brief pause as the record player's needle traced the empty route between songs, a moment or two of quiet static. And when the music resume, the beat was slower, and the melody held traces of longing, and of desire. Carol listened more carefully, and was rewarded with a chorus filled with words and emotions she related to more than she would have expected.
She was inspired to do more than simply listen and watch.
She rose from her seat on the sofa and extinguished her cigarette. She went over to the record player and lifted the needle.
Therese looked up from her work, a tiny wall that could rotate and change from an indoor staircase into outdoor balcony held in her hand, curious at the disruption of the music. And her confusion only grew when the same song started over again as Carol dropped the needle back to the start, then turned to her with a sharp gaze.
The blonde woman turned from the record player and gradually looked at her partner that was only a few feet away from her then for a moment before approaching her, stopping one or two feet from her and simply offering her hand.. Therese frowned at it. Then looked up uncertainly at Carol. Carol's face betrayed so little and yet... so much. “Dance with me,” she requested simply.
Therese' heart skipped a beat as thoughts, thoughts she'd had and words she'd spoken on prior occasions, to other people, in a prior life, flew into forefront of her mind: 'No, thank you, I'm no good at dancing' ... 'I'm sorry, but I don't really like to dance' ... 'Thank you but I'd prefer not to.' And these statements were ultimately true - she wasn't any good and she didn't really enjoy it and she'd really prefer not to.
But even as the memory of these previous conversations flittered across her mind, and even as part of her brain told her to demur, she found herself instinctively reaching for Carol's hand and letting herself be pulled to her feet.
But as soon as she was up, she shook her hand free of Carol's. She shook her hand free so that she could place it formally on the taller woman's shoulder. The other hand Therese held out to her side. And she stood a proper 9 to 12 inches away from Carol. She did it unthinkingly. She did it by rote. By training. By every experience she'd had in her life to this point.
Carol smiled in mild amusement but also utter adoration at the formality and slight awkwardness of her partner, both of which spoke to a lingering and charming innocence. But an innocence that was no longer entirely necessary between them. So Carol simply responded with actions rather than words, reaching up to the hand on her shoulder and, still looking into Therese' eyes; guiding the brunette's hand to Carol's lower back instead, while also taking a small step forward, bringing - forcing, their bodies together. Carol was rewarded with a catch in Therese' breath and a slight widening of Therese' eyes. The older woman then stretched her hand out to meet Therese's, but she didn't leave it out there, but instead brought it inwards, so that their clasped hands were united between them at shoulder level. “I mean really dance with me, sweetheart,” Carol murmured tenderly.
Pressed against Carol fully, the feel of Carol's one hand holding hers and the other hand stroking the hair on the back of her head, Therese found herself instinctively melting. Any tension she might have had escaped on a sigh as she did what felt entirely natural; she lay her head on Carol's shoulder, buried her face into the crook of Carol's neck and lose herself to Carol and to the sway of the tune.
Carol smiled, briefly. Letting those minutes pass as frankly she leans forward and smiles into Therese's soft eased hair from her roots, breaths mingling together as she exhaled slowly with a meandered pace. Both she and Therese couldn't resist their hold nor being adjacent to one another that that they've been among themselves since the very start. Ever since getting used to the standard of touching, warmth - bodies aroused together, it has always led the two women to a point where they were comfortable for their evocated touches and electric communication with more quality of closeness and wisps of grasps.
And in those moments, those moments of closeness, of quiet enjoyment of the other, each lost in their own thoughts entirely of the other, Therese realized that she'd been wrong. So wrong.
It wasn't that she didn't like dancing or wasn't good at it.
It was just that she hadn't ever danced with the right person before.
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|| if you are most likely interested to see more moments with these two passionate women I absolutely have hard devotion on, it will affect you and I if you please stay and continue with me on this beloved journey within onto another part. thank you so much for reading to whomever reached the end! it's so wonderful looking at this many support. as always, take care xo
