Home at Last

I flinched first, wiping at my eyes with my fingers. I was about to say something, but as usual, Christina beat me to the punch.

"I'd love to. Do you think you could come over to my place? I've got a new recipe I've been dying to try and if it bombs with you, no one will have to know."

"That would be great," I said. "Great."

And there it was.

Just a few simple words, but so much knowledge unspoken. I wanted desperately to blurt out how I felt, but the office was not the place for that. I knew it and she knew it. There would be time enough later. Instead, we settled for closely guarded knowing glances.

Each time our eyes met, I'd feel a shiver run through me, and my nipples would begin to harden. And once I noticed that our game of peek-a-boo had had the same effect on Christina. The sight of her nipples poking against the fabric of her dress caused a dampness between my legs that made me wish Friday would come sooner than usual.

Somehow we made it through the week without jumping into one another's arms. It helped that she spent Tuesday and most of Wednesday at a client. If it hadn't been for Jillian, I probably wouldn't have made it through the week. She kept reminding me that everything would be just fine and helped me pick out and discard about forty different outfits for Friday.

In the end, we settled on simple—a newish pair of jeans that fit my slimmer figure nicely and pale blue satin blouse that Jillian swore highlighted my eyes in an alluring way.

"Trust me Mom," she'd said. "You're hot, okay?"

I didn't feel hot. I felt scared. Especially by the thought of Christina's perfect body compared to mine. To be honest, as excited as I was by what I could imagine would happen, the thought of being naked in front of Christina terrified me. I looked better than I had in maybe twenty years, but as good as my curves had seemed to me a few months ago, now I just felt, well, fat.

On Friday Christina and I avoided one another as much as possible. It was just too hard to be around her. And I suspected she felt the same way. At quitting time, she breezed into my office, her cheeks just a bit flushed, and said, "Seven o'clock, right?"

"Yes," I said. "I'll be there."

"I can't wait," she said and left me to watch her legs retreating down the corridor.

When I got home, I felt like I was vibrating as I walked into the kitchen and I had to concentrate on breathing normally. Jillian was waiting for me. She'd agreed to babysit her younger sister and to make sure her brother came home on time.

"Hi Mom," she said, sounding a lot perkier than I felt. "All set for your big date?"

"I need to breathe before I can go anywhere," I groaned.

Jillian stood up, went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine and poured me a glass. "Drink this. It'll help you breathe."

She was right, of course. As soon as I took a sip, I felt calm begin to wash over me—clearly a psychological reaction rather than a physiological one.

"Go get changed," she said. "Don't want to be late!"

I stuck my tongue out at her, but followed her advice. I took a shower, shaved my legs and armpits, put on just a little of the only expensive perfume I owned, and dressed in the outfit we'd agreed on. I must have checked myself in the mirror five times before I could bring myself to go downstairs, but finally, it was time.

"Wow, Mom. You look great," my very supportive daughter gushed. "If I was into older chicks, I'd ask you out."

I slugged her in the shoulder for that one. Then, just as I was about to go through all the things I wanted her to do, she cut me off.

"I know. Allison needs to be in bed by 10:00 and Mark has to be home by 11:00. I've got Christina's number and your cell number programmed into my phone."

"Okay, Miss Smartypants, that seems to be it then."

"Not quite," she said, looking at me sideways. "There's one more detail."

Then she stood up, wrapped me in her arms and hugged me. Jillian takes after her father and so is close to two inches taller than me, which puts her just under six feet. It felt good to be hugged at that moment, so I hugged her back hard.

When we broke our clench, she put her hands on my shoulders and said, "I don't expect you to come home tonight."

"What?"

"I mean it Mom. I'm 18 years old, remember. I can control the punks. You have absolutely no reason to come home tonight and so you better not. Seriously."

I was about to protest, but she was right. I didn't want to come home. Tears started from my eyes and ran down my face. "I love you Jilly," was all I could say.

"I love you too Mom. Now get the hell out of here!"

I'd been to Christina's house a couple of times and had cruised it the night before just because I couldn't stop myself, so I managed to get there without getting lost. But when I pulled into the driveway, I was a wreck. I hadn't felt this way when I'd started dating again and the reason was pretty obvious to me. I hadn't cared that much about Alex. And, of course, I was about to turn a corner in my life and go to a place I'd never imagined I'd go.

Christina must have been waiting for me to pull up, because she opened her front door, stepped out onto the stoop and waved. Okay, here goes nothing, I said to myself.

"Hi," I said as I walked toward her door. She was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt with several of the top buttons undone and a pair of low-rise jeans. Her hair was piled up on her head with a couple of antique looking chopsticks. A single diamond was suspended just below her throat by a chain so thin it was almost invisible. God she looked beautiful.

"Hi yourself," she said. "Glad you remembered how to get here."

"I printed out directions," I lied.

"Well, come on in. Dinner's almost ready."

We stepped inside and I had to suppress an overwhelming urge to grab her and kiss her. If she'd wanted to do that, she would have turned on me as soon as we closed the front door. Instead, she led me down the hall to the kitchen.

"That smells delicious," I said. "What is it?"

"It's Thai. A shrimp and scallop curry. It's not too spicy. I know you don't like things too hot."

From the kitchen, I could see the dining room. The table was set for two with candles already burning. Very romantic.

Christina handed me a glass of wine and looked where I'd been staring. "Cozy, isn't it."

"Yes," I said. "I just love that about your house."

"Mmm," she murmured into her wine glass. "Have a seat over there,' she said, motioning toward a barstool at the counter, "and let me finish up."

I sat as directed and watched her. Her green eyes were so captivating against her pale pink skin, her deep red hair.

"What are the kids up to tonight," she asked.

"Mark's out with friends and Jillian's babysitting Allie. I think they're going to watch a DVD."

"You're so lucky to have Jillian as your oldest," she said. "My mother always wished I'd been the oldest instead of the youngest. Of course, it meant I didn't have to babysit my brothers."

"I think you got the better end of that deal," I replied. "And yes, I'm very lucky to have Jillian. In fact," I took a deep breath, "I wouldn't be here tonight if it weren't for her."

"Oh?" Christina's eyebrows arched.

"Well, um, yes. You see, Jillian was the one who," I couldn't say it just that fast, so to stall, I took another sip of my wine, a gulp actually.

"Who what?" Now she was teasing me, I was sure.

"Who sat me down and told me that it was as plain on the nose on my face that you and I, well, that we feel more for one another than just friendship."

It was the moment of truth. I was sure there was no way I was wrong, but there was always that very slim chance and if I was wrong, my whole life—my job, my self-image, everything—was in shambles.

I guess I must have looked pretty vulnerable at that moment, because Christina put down the knife she was using to chop the scallops, wiped her hand on a towel and stepped to me. The whole time her eyes never left mine.

She took my head in her hands, tilted it sideways just a bit and leaned down so close I could feel the heat of her lips before they touched mine. When she actually did make contact with me, I thought I might faint right there on the spot. Never in my whole life had I wanted to kiss someone that much.

Her lips were as soft as velvet, but her kiss was anything but soft. She pressed us together hungrily, her tongue darting between my lips and sliding over my teeth, then withdrawing. As she pulled back, I pressed forward, rising a little from my seat. I didn't want the contact broken now that we were touching at last. Now it was me who was on the attack, devouring her mouth, probing with my tongue, reaching up with my hands to pull her to me.

We kissed like that for several minutes, my excitement, my need building. And then she broke the clench, stepped back and gasped. Her nipples were poking against the fabric of her shirt so that I could see them even through the floral print. Her chest was heaving in time with mine.

"Does that answer your question?" she asked.

I couldn't speak. All I could do was nod.

"Good. Now let me finish this, or we'll never eat it and I'll have wasted an hour of prep time."

"Okay," I said. "But can you go just a little faster?"

Then we both smiled, a knowing smile of pleasure postponed.

Dinnerwas delicious and I'm glad we didn't waste it. We also managed to polish off a bottle and a half of some very nice wine. By the time we'd cleared our plates, we were both feeling sated—at least as far as our stomachs went.

In the kitchen, I was about to reach for Christina to resume where we'd left off before dinner, when she slid her hand into mine and said, "Come with me."

She led me down the hall to her bedroom and to the edge of her bed, where she turned and gathered me in her arms. Christina and I are both tall, so we were well matched, our bodies pressing together in all the right places. The feeling of her breasts against mine was heavenly and I was already very damp with anticipation. But I was also a little nervous about being naked in front of her.

Before I could worry any more, she released me from her hug and kissed me again. But this time, her hands began to roam over my body, sliding down my rib cage to my hips, then over my butt and up my back to my neck, then down my front where she tweaked my nipples and cupped my breasts in her hands. I sighed involuntarily and followed her lead, letting my fingers investigate the body I'd been dreaming about every night for the past week.

Then she was unbuttoning my blouse. My nipples were so hard they hurt pressed against the inside of my bra and I felt a desperate need for her to kiss them.

I didn't have long to wait, because she skillfully slid me out of my blouse and unsnapped my bra. As my breasts swung free, she gasped, leaned down and her mouth was on my nipple, her tongue swirling in rapid circles. With a shock I realized that I was very close to an orgasm. I clasped her head in my hands and pressed her against my breast as she devoured me.

And before I knew it, my legs began to shake, my breath came in short little gasps and it hit me, an orgasm that began in her mouth, entered my breasts, and washed over my entire body. I cried out and collapsed backward onto her bed. Her mouth never left me as I writhed beneath her, feeling the waves of pleasure rebound from my feet to my head and back to her mouth. My nipples have always been zones of intense pleasure for me, but in my whole life I'd never cum from nipple stimulation before.

"Oh my God Christina," I moaned, "That was unbelievable."

She looked up at me then, a look of pure animal lust in her eyes. "You are so beautiful Megan. So beautiful."

Then I felt her hands begin to work at the button at the waistband of my pants. I began squirming to help her. I wanted to be naked in the worst kind of way. From the way she was tugging at my pants, it was pretty clear she wanted me naked even worse.

Once she had my jeans off, Christina stood next to the bed and slid easily out of her own clothes. I watched, mesmerized, as her body appeared before me. It was everything mine would never be—perfect breasts, a flat stomach, a thin waist. I stared at her with a mix of longing and envy.

"Christina," I whispered. "You're perfect."

"You don't get it do you?" she asked me.

"Get what?"

"You're the one who's perfect Megan. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

And then as if to silence any dissent I might utter, she bent down and began to kiss my toes, sliding her tongue between each one, then sucking a toe into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it like it was a tiny cock. No one had ever sucked my toes before and I liked it. A lot.

When she'd visited all ten of my toes she began kissing her way up my calves, across the tops of my thighs and then down to the insides of my knees. She was driving me crazy. Christina knew where I wanted her tongue, but she was going to make me suffer first, that was clear.

As she kissed and nibbled her way up closer and closer to my pussy, I began to lift my hips off the bed to give her better access, but distressingly, she passed her target by. Instead, she kissed her way through my pubic hair and up to my navel, where her tongue probed for just a moment, before bathing its way across my belly.

"You are so sexy," she moaned. "I love your body."

"And you're killing me," I moaned back at her.

That made her chuckle. But it didn't make her go where I wanted her to go. Instead, she began kissing the undersides of my breasts. My nipples were still very hard and before long they were back in her mouth, but this time she nipped them playfully. The twinge of pain from her teeth just increased my need. She seemed to know me as though we'd been lovers for years, not minutes.

From my breasts her tongue slid up my neck to my ears. My ears have always been my most erogenous zone after my breasts and crotch and her hot breath, the smell of her hair as she licked and nibbled my earlobes, sent me into a series of gasps and full body twitches.

"Mmmm. You like that?"

"God yes!"

"Mmmm," she murmured into my ear, the vibrations of her hum just making it worse.

With one hand I began to stroke her back, while I tried worming the other one under her to begin my own investigation of her body. But she pushed my hand away.

"Not yet," she said. "Not yet."

So I lay back and let her love me. At last she began to kiss her way back down toward my waist. By this time my entire body was on fire, every single nerve ending inflamed. I was writhing and moaning like some kind of animal. And my greatest fear was that she would bypass the place I needed her to go and continue my torture.

Fortunately for me, she did nothing of the sort. Instead, she pushed my legs open and her face descended. I was soaking wet and could feel how swollen my pussy was with desire for my lover.

"You are so incredible," she murmured.

And then her breath was beating down on the outer lips of my sex. I needed her touch so badly I wanted to scream for it. She knew it and didn't make me wait another moment. The tip of her tongue danced out and began tracing the edges of my outer lips and as it did, I could feel another orgasm approaching.

Desperate now, I begged her, "Please. I'm so close. Please. My clit."

As slow and deliberate as Christina had been for the past ten minutes or so, she suddenly attacked my body, thrusting her face down into me, her tongue playing roughly over my clit, driving me up and over the edge.

This time I really did scream. Well, scream is not exactly the right word because that implies something high pitched and wailing. My scream was more like a shouted grunt. My hips bucked up off the mattress, crashing into her face as the most powerful orgasm of my life surged through me. I felt as though her tongue was yanking me up and down on the bed, making my body dance as though I was a puppet on a string.

Best of all, Christina knew better than to stop. Instead of slackening her pace, she drove two fingers into me, pushing my folds open, and began strumming on my g-spot. Until that moment, I'd never known what "multi-orgasmic" meant, but I found out right then and there. A second and then a third orgasm took me as I gave myself over completely and totally to my lover, letting her have all of me, wanting nothing more than to be the feelings that assaulted me.

I have no idea how long I kept cumming. I had ascended into a timeless place where the only things that existed were my body and my lover's ministrations.

But all good things must come to an end. I don't know if it was my body giving out or Christina getting a tongue cramp, but she eventually began to slow her pace and as she did, the aftershocks of my pleasure began to space themselves out, until at last I flopped on the bed, my body completely spent.

I couldn't have moved if the house had caught fire at that moment. Fortunately, I didn't have to move, because Christina squirmed up toward me, covering my body in hers, our breasts crushed together, our pelvic bones touching, feet entwined.

I wrapped my arms around her, buried her head in the hollow of my shoulder and then did something very unsexy. I began to cry. Not little sobs or anything like that. I cut loose with gut-wrenching moans and I clung to Christina like my life depended on it. She wormed her arms under me and clung back.

After a few minutes of blubbering, my sobs turned into laughs, or at least a kind of sob-laugh that must have been funny to listen to, because it made Christina start laughing too. She slid her arms out from under me, raised herself up so she could look into my eyes, and said, "I love you too."

That just made me start crying all over again. She knew. She knew just like she'd looked inside my heart, just as easily as she'd taken control of my body. I was deliriously happy.

I grabbed her face with both hands and dragged her down to my lips and we kissed just as passionately as we had there in the kitchen a couple of hours earlier. Only this time it was me who wanted it all. I wanted to love her the way she'd just loved me, to join her in that glorious passage from excitement to fulfillment. She sensed my need once again in a way no lover ever had, and rolled over and off of me, lying back and offering herself to me.

And I worshiped her just as she'd worshiped me. I wanted to know every inch of her skin, every cleft, every wrinkle, every smell, every taste. Nothing had ever felt so right to me, so natural, so loving. I tasted her and I roughed her skin with the back of my tongue. I drew her nipples into my mouth and loved them just as I had been loved. I smelled the perfume she'd dabbed behind her ears and I twirled her shimmering hair between my fingers as I trailed my nose along the nape of her neck.

As I approached her waist at last, I could smell her, a smell of passion much like my own but subtly different. It was a Christina smell, wild, untamed, dominating. More than anything I wanted to taste the juices that made that smell and so I forced her legs open and kissed my way closer and closer to the object of my desire. Her red pubic hair, trimmed back from her pussy, was damp with sweat and excitement as my lips burrowed in it. Her hips were rising off the bed now, her need urgent.

My tongue became the locus of my love, of my own need, as it dipped between the folds of her pussy, the sweet tang of her spreading up and over my taste buds. I wanted more. I needed more. I drove my tongue into her, lapping up her passion as it poured from her.

And then I found it. The spot to which all her nerve endings were connected. And as I sucked it between my lips, her clit quivered and jumped as if it were a thing alive, separate from her yet intricately connected. Christina cried out then and grabbed my head, grinding me into her and as I had done, she came and came hard.