In her hallway, while she locks the front door, I lean on the wall and take my sandals off. 'Ohhh yes,' I murmur in pleasure as my feet are freed from the shoes and sink a little into her gorgeously soft carpet. The shoes are comfortable enough, but I have been standing around in them most of the night, apart from the little sit down we've just had in the gay bar. 'Oh, my god. That's so good.'
She throws her keys on to the small table next to me. She's in a good mood, now we've been able to hold hands and sit together, and I'm feeling mellow for the same reason. I liked it when she put her arm around me as we talked to Petra, and I think she did too. On the walk back to the flat, we walked close and she let her arm brush my hip a lot. We've just had a very sexy kiss in the lift, too, where she just leaned in and took me by surprise. I've known she kisses well since that first office party, but this was a very nice one indeed. The way she fluttered her tongue in my mouth made the knot of desire tighten inside me. She smirks at me. 'I haven't even touched you yet, and you're practically purring.'
'Well, I don't know. That kiss was pretty hot.' I crouch down and tuck my handbag between my shoes, then run my fingers through the thick pile. 'But mainly it's your carpet. It's gorgeous, it feels so lovely. I love it.'
She laughs. 'You love my carpet? I think there's a sexual innuendo in there somewhere, Fiona.' She watches me straighten up and smooth the back of my dress, her eyes flicking to the way the material moves around my thighs, then moves towards the main area. 'Shall we finish that bottle from earlier?'
'OK.' I follow her into the living area and head towards the windows while she retrieves the bottle we were drinking earlier from the fridge and empties what's left in it into two glasses. The living area is still in darkness, and she's only put one light on in the kitchen, so it's possible to see some things beyond the glass. I'm surprised by the fact that it's quite dark out there. 'Um. Where are all the lights? I expected to see more of them.' She joins me at the window and hands me a glass of wine. I sip and realise I've missed a previous comment. 'Anyway, isn't that your rug?'
'What?'
'Your rug, not your carpet.' I glance fairly obviously at the front of her jeans. 'The innuendo?' I try to move a bit closer to her, bending one leg at the knee in the hope it will touch her. She stays very still. I want to feel her arm around my waist under my denim jacket again. I want to feel her touch me, anywhere and however lightly.
She looks at me seriously. 'Probably.' I sometimes think that Diana is so used to making sexually suggestive comments to her young women that she finds it strange to do the same to me. Frustratingly, I'm both glad she maybe feels that and irritated that she doesn't feel relaxed enough to talk sexy with me too. In the meantime, we're standing close. The feel of the hot kiss in the lift is throbbing between us, and I suppose we are deliberately talking about sexy things and simultaneously pretending it's not important. She doesn't touch me, but she does let her gaze stray down my dress and over my bent leg. She clears her throat. 'Do you want to sit outside for a moment or two?'
It is still warm enough to do so. I nod. She turns away and unlocks the French windows and I rather shamelessly admire how sexy she looks in her jeans and blouse. She moves out onto the balcony and I follow her, glass in hand, but I don't sit down. I'm suddenly, in my tipsy late-night curiosity, distracted by the view again, and I go over to lean on the rail. 'It's still darker than I expected.' I know there's buildings on the opposite side of the canal. 'Why aren't their lights on?'
She comes up behind me. I can feel her close, and I can smell her, and my breath catches in my throat for a moment. I feel her hand, with wine glass, carefully on my arm. There's a little pause, then she gives in and slides her free hand around my waist again. I sigh and tip my head back a little to feel her nose and lips and chin touch my hair, because at that moment that is everything I ever wanted to be happy. She moves directly behind me and steps closer and I feel her body press mine against the balcony rail. I have to breathe deeply to stop myself groaning with pleasure. Her cheek and lips brush over my hair, down to my bare neck. 'They're mainly offices over there, Fiona. So they're closed for the weekend. And there's no lights on the canal.' She presses her lips to my neck for a long moment in a soft kiss, making me shiver with pleasure several times, before she lifts away.
I wonder if she can feel how turned on I am. I try to make my whole body feel as receptive and easy against her, in case that's what she wants. It's up to her, it has to feel right for her, but if - despite her earlier lofty assurances – she really does want me, I want to make sure she knows she can have me.
Her mouth moves over my neck again, and I cock my head to one side to give her more neck to kiss. With my free hand I reach down and rest it over hers on my waist, sliding my fingers in between hers. She murmurs on my neck, making me gasp at the thrill of it. I move her hand down a little to my hip, and love the way the warm pressure of it makes the material of my dress rub my sensitive skin. I know she can feel the line of my underwear under the dress, and I hold my breath as she traces it with a fingertip. She presses her hips onto my bum a bit more firmly and lifts her mouth from my neck. I cock my head the other way and she kisses the other side of my neck. She moves her hand back onto my waist, and I guide it onto my tummy. Inside, the knot of desire tightens yet further.
Lightly, I slide my fingers between hers again and guide her hand up the front of my dress. I stand up as straight as I can and enjoy being lightly squashed between her and the edge of the balcony. She leans further round and nudges my head back onto her shoulder, to kiss my throat. I sigh, then hold my breath as I guide her hand up further, over the curve of my breast. The knot of desire loosens quickly, dissolving into a swirl of pleasure, and I am shocked at just how badly I actually wanted her to touch my breasts. She lets the shape of my breast fill her hand.
I gasp loudly at the powerfully erotic gentleness of her touch. I whisper her name quietly several times as the waves of pleasure at her touch wash through me.
She moves back suddenly and takes my wine glass. Her breath tickles my ear. 'Don't move. Seriously.' I do as I'm told and stay still, pressing against the balcony rail. She swiftly puts our glasses on the table and comes back to hold me from behind again. I press back onto her and she puts both hands on my hips to hold me steady. It feels good to press my bum onto the warm crotch of her jeans, feel the denim rough through my dress. I feel one of her knees push gently at the backs of my thighs, the denim of her jeans even more sexily rough on my bare skin. I murmur in pleasure as my body flushes with desire. I can feel I want to fidget, to squirm on her and move my legs as the heat grows between them, but the way she's holding me keeps me still and not being able to move is in itself very sexy. I realise that she knows just how I feel, that keeping me as still as she can will deliberately increase my pleasure but is deliciously frustrating. That thought that she knows exactly what she's doing arouses me too.
She keeps one hand on my hip and slides the other over my dress to touch my breasts again. She plants soft, hot kisses all over my neck while she holds me steady and runs her hand all over my breasts. She uses her fingers to trace their shape, then turns her hand and rubs the back of it over them. Each pass of her hand thrills me, sending the waves of pleasure washing through me again and again. Sometimes she uses a fingertip to carefully feel for the slight bump of my nipple through the dress and the thin lace of my bra, and then she teases it for a moment or two. Her other hand on my hip moves back and forth very slightly, rubbing the dress against my skin, and I suspect she is trying to concentrate on feeling the lace of my knickers through the material. The pressure of her thigh and knee on the backs of my legs is very arousing.
She takes an earlobe between her lips gently and I groan lightly in pleasure. 'You are gorgeous, Fiona,' she whispers, and my insides really do begin to go into meltdown. She continues to gently play with my breasts, as her lips brush my cheek.
When I find my voice, I ask, 'Can I kiss you? I want to kiss you, Diana.'
She steps back silently, and I turn round. Her hand moves from my breasts to my arm and I reach up to clasp my arms round her neck as we lean in for the kiss. Her mouth is hot, soft, welcoming. and I kiss her more hungrily than I've kissed anyone for a long time. I press up against her, using my body to rub hers, and I move one hand down her back to pull her close to me. For once, she lets me dominate, lets me direct the kiss, responding subtly and excitingly with her lips and tongue when I invite it.
***
'My God, Fiona,' she says quietly when it comes to an end. 'That was some kiss.' She brushes a loose strand of my hair away from my mouth where it was caught up between our lips. 'We almost got carried away, there.'
I smile and reach up to stroke her hair. 'I'm really happy, Diana. I like this. I like us. Thank you.'
'Thank me for what?' She gently guides me over to the chairs, and we pull them close enough to be able to hold hands while we sit. I lean over the arms and rest my head on her shoulder, not really caring that the chair arm is digging into my side.
I tuck my legs up under me on the seat and let our hands rest on the side of my bare knee. I do like holding her hand so much. We sip wine. 'For all this. For not rushing things, for making an effort.'
She squeezes my hand. 'What we have is far too important to fuck up, Fiona.' She pauses, sighs, then goes on, 'I...er, I haven't felt like this for someone for a long time. I thought I didn't want to again.' She takes a drink of wine and I notice that her hand is very slightly shaky. I squeeze the one I'm holding, and she squeezes back. 'I'm glad it's you who's proving me wrong.'
We finish the wine and move back inside. I'm still aroused, but things feel different between us again. Nice still, but not as hot and urgent as they did out on the balcony. I watch her lock the French windows, then take the empty glass from her and put both hers and mine in the kitchen sink.
She picks up my bag and I follow her into the spare room. We stand slightly awkwardly looking at each other for a moment, before I reach out and touch her arm. She steps closer and then suddenly we're holding each other again and kissing.
***
Hot kisses, urgent kisses. Hungry kisses, where she pushes her tongue into my mouth and holds me against her as I shiver in pleasure. She drops my bag to one side. I push at her, making her stumble backwards until the kissing stops.
Breathless, my lips swollen, I lean round and turn on the bedside lamp, then begin taking off my denim jacket. Diana flits out and I see the lights in the flat go off, and I fold my jacket over the back of a chair. I know she will come straight back to me.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and resist the instinctive temptation to cross my legs. I sit with my knees pressed together and like the pressure of my thighs against each other, the way the skirt of my dress sits over them and splays out on the bed cover. Diana comes back in and strides towards me, quite unable to hide the way she takes in the whole sight of me: my face and hair, the shape of my body in the dress, my bare legs. I love the way she openly admires me, standing silently in front of me as she watches me slowly unpin my hair and let it fall loose around my face and shoulders.
Suddenly, she sinks to her knees in front of me, always without saying a word, and kisses me, then kisses my neck and throat. The she presses her lips to my breasts through my dress. Her tongue deftly finds the bumps of my nipples through the layers of material and I bend my body to arch my chest towards her head. Her hands hold my hips and my clasped knees press hard against her own soft breasts. I move one leg slightly and like the way my knee rubs her. She grunts with pleasure. One of my hands finds its way into her short hair.
Her hand strays from my hip down my leg to touch my knee, and possibly touch her own breast at the same time. That turns me on more than I expect. Her breath catches quickly in excitement and I sigh with pleasure, then her hand is between my knees and I am moving my legs apart for her. Her fingers slide sensuously over the inside of my thigh and I use my hand in her hair to press her mouth harder onto my breasts through my dress. My other hand fumbles at the collar of her shirt, undoing a button or two.
Her hand slides under the hem of my dress and I groan in pleasure. I lift myself briefly a little further back on the bed and let my legs drift apart enough to welcome her body between my thighs. She moves forward on her knees and her free hand moves up to stroke my back even as she brushes the hem of the dress up toward my hips. I want her to touch me.
She moves up, shifts her body, pushing me back on to the bed. I lie back across the cover, raising my leg to keep her hand where it's circling on the by now slick and hot inside of my thigh, under my dress. I move a hand to her back and encourage her to move on top of me. She moves her mouth and we kiss deeply. I feel her knee press up between my legs, and move my hips to rub myself against the denim of her jeans. Her breasts grind down against mine, rubbing and stroking like nothing else can.
I feel my whole body begin to tremble. I gasp into her ear and push my hips and body up into her as best I can and squirm against her as hard and blatantly as I can. She grinds on top of me and kisses my neck and mouth and cheeks, then my neck again, all the time whispering my name, and I feel the tension inside me begin to loosen.
Having Diana on top of me, so obviously aroused and enjoying my body, after such a lovely way of spending the day, proves too much for me. She moves her hand to touch the side of my breast, and I remember how sexy it was out on the balcony earlier. She presses herself up against me at the same time, and the pressure on me is just too much. Her lips whisper my name into my ear in a hoarse, excited whisper which sounds like pure lust and I feel a sharp, tight, painful jolt inside me of exquisite pleasure.
I hold my breath and give in completely, letting the waves of raw joy flood my body. I come hard and suddenly against her leg, curling my body up into hers and calling her name quietly.
She only realises when I stop squirming and go limp under her and kiss her hotly. She must be able to feel something in the kiss.
'Fiona? Oh no...I'm sorry....God...'
'Diana? Shut up, for fuck's sake.' I lean up and kiss her again. 'You are amazing.'
She starts to move away from me, and I catch her wrist. She slides off the bed, and I follow her, tugging at her hand until, by the door, I finally get her to turn round. I don't care what's happened, I just don't want her to leave yet. I want her to hold me. I press myself up against her and don't even care that my dress is still disarrayed. My hair is pretty messy too. She looks beautiful and worried and wonderful and I am quite unable to care about anything but that she's just unwittingly given me an amazing orgasm – and not only did she not mean to, she's actually cross with herself for letting it get that far.
I'm pleased that even though she feels tense and cross, she still can't help hold herself against me. I sigh in the pure pleasure of being in her arms. I kiss her again, then let my lips trail across her cheek. 'Thank you. It's fine, believe me. It's all very, very good, in fact.' She tenses, but I hold her tight until she relaxes again. I bury my face into her neck and ask, 'Does this really change anything? Apart from bringing us closer?'
She sighs, and I like the way it makes my hair stir and my skin prickle. She holds me slightly differently, and I know she's relaxing a little. 'I suppose not. Unless feeling closer is a bad thing.'
I press onto her, happy beyond words that we can even be here together like this. 'Feeling closer to you is a good thing, Diana. Always.'
'I can't stay, though Fiona. Not...not yet. I'm sorry.'
'It's fine.' We kiss again, softly but on the lips, and for longer than we should. Then she bids me goodnight and shuts the door gently behind herself.