The weekend of the meal out comes round quickly. Luckily, Paula and Martin have gone away again, so Diana and I arrange to be at our house that weekend. The day before, I happen to catch Diana in the corridor at work and I remind her that she suggested having a bath together, and we could do that this weekend, maybe as part of getting ready for the meal. I like the way her eyes light up as she grins.
On the Friday night, we leave work together and don't even bother going for a drink before heading back. She kisses me behind our front door, even as I'm still leaning against it and trying to turn the key in the lock. She catches me as I'm turning and slides a hand round my waist under my thin cardigan, to pull me towards her. I feel my body melt into hers instinctively, and love the way her hand slides up the back of my blouse while her knee pushes at the hem of my skirt. It's a good kiss: a sensual, eager, involved kiss, that makes me hope that Diana will want to kiss me like that after work for a long time yet.
I haven't got an awful lot to do to get our dinner ready – which is just as well, because she keeps distracting me with little kisses to my neck and hair and arms, and touches of her hand to my hips and bum and tummy. At one point, I tell her to leave me alone for a bit, just while I finish cooking, but that she can have me all to herself once we've eaten. She smirks and promises to hold me to my word, planting a lingeringly sexy kiss on my neck. I shiver slightly as she threatens to pull at the zip of my skirt, but turns her hand instead and just brushes the curve of my bum suggestively.
After eating, we curl up on the sofa together to watch our usual Friday night TV, and hold hands on my navel. Without really realising, I rest a hand on her thigh and stroke it absent-mindedly, while she does something similar with her lips on my hair. Eventually, we both notice our unconscious mutual arousal and she reminds me I made her a promise. We go up to bed and I happily let her hold me to my promise until we curl up together in a state of satisfied happiness, and drift off to sleep.
***
The next morning, I wake up quite early, earlier than normal, too early for it to be properly light. I turn round gently in bed, careful not to wake her, and gaze at Diana in the gloom of the very pale pre-sunrise light, and suddenly have to close my eyes as a wave of deep emotion washes through me. How silly to want to cry over her now, when she's stretched out against me in my bed, safe and contented in her sleep, and I can't imagine anywhere either of us would rather be.
Perhaps I have an unconscious sense that this happiness is more temporary than it seems.
I lie in bed and gaze at Diana as she sleeps, and wonder if she has ever woken early and gazed on someone and known with such deep-rooted certainty that she loves her to the exclusion of anything and anyone else. Because as I lie there in the early morning and look so lingeringly on my lover, I do feel that I should drink every inch of her in now while I can. The merest thought of how perfect everything has been between us for the past few weeks makes me realise how much we now have to lose: the deep easiness of how we are with each other; the comfort of knowing that we can always search each other out for support and affection and respect; the heart-stopping wonderfulness of our lovemaking...
I stretch myself along the bed, alongside Diana's body, and know that I could never again want to give myself so fully to anyone else. Deep within myself, I know that as we allow ourselves to get closer, it will kill me if we ever had to separate. The way our legs and arms and bodies entwine as we make love helps our souls to entwine and pulls us closer together emotionally. Even as I take in the lovely sight of Diana's naked body against me in bed, I know that it is the contact with her that is so important, the fact that it is her (and no-one else) who's beside me; the realisation that to love Diana and be loved by her in return is pretty much the main thing that gives my life a sense of worth. Nothing else now really seems to make sense or be important, if I don't have Diana.
Lost in wonder at lucky I am to have her in my bed, here now, lying alongside me, I run my fingers along her body. I like the smoothness of her skin and the tautness of her body, of course, and the gentle weight of her on my side and hip and leg and shoulder. But what moves me so deeply that morning is the solid reality of her presence: it seems in that long moment to be vital to me, as important and fundamental as eating and sleeping and breathing.
By stroking her gently, I accidentally wake her up. She stirs and nuzzles my neck drowsily through my hair. I hold her to me and whisper in her ear, 'It's OK, it's early. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.' She shifts her weight against me, our naked bodies rubbing together in a comforting sense of companionship, and I feel her drift off again before I too sink back into sleep.
***
It is almost nine o'clock when I reawaken, and Diana has already got up. She tends to get up early, even on weekends, and I often wake up to find myself alone in bed. Sometimes she brings us both a hot drink back to bed, but often I'll find her sitting quietly reading, waiting for me to get up and make breakfast. It amuses me that she would never make us breakfast herself, and is quite happy to sit there waiting for me. She never disturbs me, or wakes me up deliberately, and I occasionally wonder what she'd do if I had a really long lie-in (even though I know I'd probably never really do that to her.) This morning, I listen to hear if she's coming back, but it doesn't sound like it, so I slide out of bed and find a long t-shirt to pull on, then open the curtains to an already sunny day. I stretch happily, finding the worries from earlier have more or less evaporated with the dawn, and pad downstairs.
Diana is sitting on the sofa in her pyjamas, reading another of my university text books. She yawns as she watches me walk towards the kitchen, then chuckles. 'Sorry, that wasn't because of you.' I twist over the edge of the sofa and kiss her on the mouth, liking the way she casually responds, turning it into something lazily sexy. There's a strong taste of unhurried desire in the kiss, and it goes on several moments longer than I expected. As I'd only really kissed her in passing, my weight is slightly awkwardly distributed and I rest a hand on her shoulder and shift my weight onto one hip. She reaches up to hold a thick bunch of my hair away from my face and 'mmm's into my mouth, the vibrations running from her lips and tongue on my lips down through my body. My nipples are suddenly sensitive under the soft t-shirt and my insides tighten in anticipation. Between my legs I begin to prickle in arousal.
We break the kiss slowly. As our gaze holds for a second, I see Diana's eyes look serious behind the obvious glint of lust. I smile and rub my nose on hers. 'OK?'
She closes her eyes and kisses my lips softly for a second, then re-opens her eyes and sighs lightly as she nods. 'Were you going to put the kettle on?'
'Mmm-hmm. Coffee?'
'Please.' She nods. 'Shall we take it back to bed?' She stretches slowly, uncrossing her legs, and watches me straighten up. I see her casually run her eyes over the shape of my breasts in the t-shirt, and over my bare legs below where the hem rests mid-thigh. But then I'm getting off on the shape of her body in her pyjamas as she stretches, and the flush of pink at her bare throat which tells me she's turned on, so it's all fair.
I stroke a bunch of my hair, just brushing my breast with my wrist to draw attention to the bump of my erect nipple in the material. She stares at my breasts again for a long moment, and I tingle with mounting excitement. She slides a hand between her slightly open legs, high up, and I can tell her arm is lightly pressing against her crotch. I lick my lips at the thought of her getting hot and wet. 'Good idea.' My voice betrays my arousal, as I turn and go in to the kitchen.
I hear her get up from the sofa and follow me, and I hold my breath as I set the coffee machine going. She comes up behind me and hugs me back on to her, letting me rest my head on her shoulder. I like the feel, the presence, of her body, and the way it feels so right and comfortable to be in her arms. I press back and feel the heat of her arousal against my bum through the material of my t-shirt and her pyjamas, and her breasts are rubbing excitingly against my shoulders, and the warm pressure of her hands as they clasp mine on my stomach makes me throb with anticipation of them moving up my body to my breasts, or down my body to between my legs...but through the heat of our mutual arousal, the throbbing sexuality of our relationship, there is a strong sense of comfort and affection and mutual security. I feel that our relationship is changing, shifting to become one of mutually reliant companionship...still very physical, still charged with that irresistible sexuality, but where the love-making is now an expression not primarily of our desire to have each other but of our desire to be with each other, share ourselves completely.
In a rush of affection, I turn my head and nuzzle Diana's neck, kissing her soft, sweet skin lightly. She sighs and hugs me tighter. 'Alright, Fiona?'
'Mmmmm.' I snuggle against her. 'I was just thinking how nice this feels. How comfortable we feel together.'
I feel her breathe in sharply, but I don't think it's a bad sign. She lets the breath out slowly, through my hair. 'Hmmmm. Comfortable is a good word.' She pauses carefully. 'As long as we don't completely lose that...um...that edge, if you like.'
I grin and casually take one of my hands out of hers, reaching back to stroke her neck while I press back onto her. I wriggle my bum slightly against her hot crotch. I feel her hold her breath as I slide my fingers inside the collar of her pyjamas. 'Oh no, don't worry. I still fancy you like mad.' Using the hand still holding hers on my tummy, I push it down my t-shirt until her fingers brush over my crotch. I press her onto me for a moment, so she can feel the wet heat of my naked pussy through the t-shirt. 'See?'
'God, Fiona...' Her voice is soft, trembling. She finds my ear with her lips and nibbles the lobe through my hair. She knows that always turns me on. I gasp as she draws her hand away from between my legs slowly and strokes my t-shirt down: the brush of her fingers over my hips and thighs and navel is so erotic. Her other hand moves to cup my breast for a moment, before she moves away from me. I turn round and we kiss, unhurriedly but hungrily, and I pull her tongue into my mouth.
It's not a long kiss, but it is deep and sensual. When it breaks, Diana brushes hair away from my face and looks on the point of saying something. But instead she just slips upstairs a little before me, and I follow moments later with two mugs of fresh coffee.