Diana's skin is warm where it slides over mine. Of course, the wet heat of her mouth and tongue on my breasts is exciting too; as is the confident, sensitive pressure of her finger and thumb so deftly teasing on my clit. But it is the feel of her skin sliding over mine that I notice most acutely. I tilt my head up slightly and watch her as she moves on top of me: her hair tickling my throat as she licks and nibbles and sucks on my breasts and nipples; her body arching slightly as she rubs her breasts and abdomen over mine; her leg splayed out to one side to slide under my raised knee, and her foot curled around my calf; her arm sliding against the insides of our thighs as she strokes me in a gentle rhythm. I reach over and take her free hand in mine, holding it tight, close to my head on the pillow. With my other hand I stroke my fingertips up and down the gorgeous curve of her back, and over her taut, sexy bum.
As I look, I realise that this is it, this is Diana actually making love to me. This is what I have been wondering about, fantasising about, rebelling against and finally wanting with all my being, ever since she first snogged me up against the washbasins at that office party.
She moves her head and kisses my mouth wetly, probing me with her tongue as she turns her hand round between my legs and slides her finger along the length of my slit. I murmur incoherently into the kiss, and she moves her mouth to my cheek, then my neck. 'All right, Fiona?' Her finger strokes me, in an unspoken request.
'God, yes. Please.' I push my hips to tell her I want her, and groan into her neck as she nibbles my earlobe. She pauses slightly and presses my clit with her thumb, then gently enters me with her fingers.
I groan softly at how good it feels. I hear her gasp into my hair, and it excites me even more to think she finds the feel of me around her fingers better than she expected.
***
The first time is good. Not perfect, but good. The second and third times are each slightly better, and then she gets tired of being slow and gentle and suddenly gives me what I can only think of as a fast and furious fuck. (That is very good, though, I have to admit, and to my surprise I come harder for her then than before.)
As I turn over and cuddle back against her under the covers, feeling her breathing return to normal, I reflect that that's the kind of sex I imagined her having with all her other girls – hard, fast, straightforward, fun – and I wonder what it says about me that when it came to it, that was what I enjoyed most.
She's playing absent-mindedly with my hair and planting little kisses on my shoulder that aren't going anywhere. I reach back and put my hand on her hip, stroking her side gently. Her skin feels so lovely, I think again, and I sigh happily at the sensation of her naked body so close to mine in the bed. It feels so right and good that we are finally at this point. My hand strays to her leg, and I stroke her thigh for a while. I shift slightly, intending just to feel her closer to me, but my bum presses back onto her crotch and I feel how wet she is. A little flutter of excitement starts up again inside at the thought of her letting me do her – I wonder if she will? I remember Petra saying she didn't let her do it very often.
Trying to keep my breathing steady and my body feeling calm, I slide my hand onto the inside of her thigh. To my surprise – and pleasure – she moves her leg a little to make it easier. Behind me, I feel her breath catch and her hand falter on my shoulder where her fingers are playing with a strand of my hair. I move my hand higher, so my wrist just brushes her.
'Er, Fiona...?' Her voice is cracked, and she swallows hard to clear her throat. She twitches her leg again and slightly shifts her weight in the bed.
I let my fingers stray over the very tops of her thighs, and feel my own pulse quicken at the feel of the hot, soft, smooth skin there. I push her thighs apart a little, and am pleased at how easily she lets me. 'Shhh,' I whisper. I turn my hand round and run my thumb through her patch of soft, neat hair.
She strokes her fingers up and down my arm and holds her breath as I touch a couple of fingertips lightly to her slit. She gasps and I feel her move her head to bury her face in my hair on the pillow. I trace her length a few times, then tease her clit loose with my thumb and forefinger.
She lets me play with her for longer than I expect, sliding her arm round my body as if to hold me in place. Her hand strokes my tummy and strays to my breasts now and then, but she is distracted. I move my free arm and take her hand, to hold it on my breast where I can just enjoy the pressure of it on my erect nipple and she doesn't have to concentrate on doing anything for me. It really excites me how intensely she is focussing on my fingers on her.
It excites me how turned on she obviously is too, and how ready her body is for me – and weirdly, it's even more exciting that I had to discover this for myself and we would otherwise just have gone to sleep or whatever, without her making me do anything about it. Once I've decided she has got used to my fingers on her, I slide them along her length, slipping between the edges of her wet lips.
'Oh God.' She swallows again. 'I...er, Fiona...?'
'Mmmm? Something wrong?'
She gasps in a sort of half-laugh, half-moan of pleasure. 'No...no, but...I...oh, Fiona...' She groans again as my finger “accidentally” slips a little further between her soft lips. I can't believe how eager her body is for me, despite what she might pretend.
I try to hold my breathing steady, but I am very excited by her arousal. 'Do you want me to stop?'
She groans, then groans again as I enter her properly with my finger. She is soft and hot and it feels wonderful to be inside her. I press her clit with my thumb and slide a second finger in with the first. She moves her head and nuzzles my neck, letting a low moan out through the kiss she leaves on my shoulder. 'Ohhh, Fiona...oh, my God....'
I pull my fingers out slowly, almost all the way, and she twitches her hips to follow them, as if she doesn't want to lose them. I turn my head and kiss as much of her mouth as I can reach, then slide my fingers slowly and firmly back inside her. She sighs with relief and closes her eyes. I rub my nose against hers. 'Well, then.'
She sighs and moves slightly to rub her breasts up against my back, then moves her legs again and lets me start to take her with my fingers.
***
I don't go fast or particularly hard, but I do go deep, as deep as I can, with plenty of thumb-circling. And I go confidently. As if it's my right to do this to her, and I am in control. It's very sexy that she does let me take control.
When she comes, her whole body goes still for a moment and she holds her breath as I feel her slowly contract around my fingers. I hesitate slightly in surprise – there was no other indication that she was so close, apart from perhaps a slight quickening of her panting breath – then keep going with my fingers. She groans softly into my hair, swearing and muttering my name, and her grip in my other hand tightens, then I feel her legs tremble and the release spread out from deep inside her. She rides my fingers through the waves of her orgasm then squirms against me as I take my hand away, before rolling over onto her back with a long sigh.
I turn round and cuddle up to her, kissing her deeply and enjoying the relaxed softness of her body against mine. 'Thank you, Diana.'
She opens an eye and smiles at me, letting her breath out slowly. 'Thank you too. It's been a while since...'
I kiss her. 'Shall we talk in the morning?' I lean across her and reach for the bedside lamp.
As we settle back down together in the darkness, she strokes my side gently where her arm is half around me. 'I was actually going to say, it's been a while since things have felt this good. Since I've been happy like this.'
I kiss her again softly. I don't think I've ever been quite so happy. 'Good. I'm pleased you're happy.'
'You make me happy, Fiona. I'm so pleased we've found each other.'
***
Inevitably, having finally taken the step of sleeping together, we find we've opened the floodgates of desire. We wake up late on the Sunday and spend most of the rest of the morning having sex. We get up at lunchtime and have a very late breakfast in our dressing gowns, then have sex again on the sofa before going back to bed.
In fact, we only just get up and dressed, and the place tidied up, in time for Paula to come home.
We sleep together several evenings the next week. She comes on to me at the gym after my fitness class, but we're interrupted by other people coming in to the changing room before that can really go anywhere. On the Friday afternoon, she comes to find me in the deserted department, and we have an excitingly urgent fumble on my desk before going to join a few of the others in the pub.
For a couple of weeks we basically behave as if we've just discovered it, then heard it's going out of fashion.
Occasionally, I notice that Diana looks at me in a curious way afterwards, especially if the love-making has been quite intense, as it sometimes can be. I find it difficult to tell what she's thinking when I see that particular look on her face: it's a curious mixture of tenderness and concern, I think, but there is also something else behind her eyes which I can't quite make out. But usually, it gets lost again quickly enough in the whirl of lust.
Happily, we discover that we both have little things we really like, that the other likes too: after one long day in a particularly uncomfortable pair of heels, she offers to massage my feet and I confess I always find that quite erotic. She grins and starts rubbing them innocently, but it's quickly quite clear that she has a slight thing for feet too. When I ask her to kiss them, she shivers in pleasure and tells me for the umpteenth time what a great girlfriend I am. I roll my tights off and hitch my legs up on her sofa as she kneels on the carpet and tells me how much sexier it is that I've painted my nails too, before she takes one of my toes gently between her lips. She takes her time over my feet, then my legs, but eventually it's so good we end up fucking through our work clothes on the sofa.
On another occasion, she gets much more excited than I expect when I remind her about the toy I rescued when I worked as a chambermaid. She turns it over in her hands lovingly when I produce it, and looks at me in a new way as it sinks in that I haven't have kept it just as an unusual souvenir. She goes on to demonstrate that she has a rich and lively imagination when it comes to using it on me, and is happily surprised at how much I like letting her.