A Gift from The Bard

I suddenly have the idea in my mind of me playing gooseberry while Beth and Suzie are kissing. It's a disturbingly vivid image and an uncomfortable, almost painful one that I try to shut down. I'm not sure what it is: am I afraid Suzie will get hurt the way I hurt her, that I'm jealous in case she likes Beth more than me or is it that what happened nearly two years ago affected me more than I realize? I don't know but I need to do what's right for Suzie.

Tatiana

"Ah, Suzie, come in." I hold the door open as the gorgeous girl enters; my eyes roaming over her figure, I note how she is dressed. She gives me a smile but I can see she is still a little nervous.

"Hello, Tati," she says and I notice seems rather tired. Of course, she's quite likely sitting her end of year exams, isn't she?

"Come through to the kitchen and I'll make you a cup of tea." I want to offer her alcohol but somehow that just doesn't seem appropriate at ten o'clock on a Saturday morning. "How are your exams going?" I ask.

"Okay, I guess." She sighs as she sits at the kitchen table and I switch the kettle on. "I find it difficult to know; sometimes when I think I've done well I've made stupid mistakes; other times after a horrible exam I get a really good mark." On impulse, I step behind her and place my hands on her shoulders to begin rubbing her neck with my thumbs. I feel her flinch but she doesn't pull away. While I had no definite plans for how this morning would run but physical contact was definitely a goal. It seems I'm achieving that already so I wonder how high to set the bar going forward.

"Oh exams are simply horrid!" I agree. "Hmm, you seem very tense... allow me." I start to massage her shoulders and neck and, gradually, she starts to relax. My fingers continue their ministrations. "Have you ever had a proper massage?" I ask.

"No; have you?"

"Oh yes. Lying there naked while a lovely woman kneads all the stresses and strains from your body: it's unspeakably wonderful." She turns her head to look at me out of the corner of her eye. "Giving a massage can be pleasurable too, helping someone feel better, and with the right person, well..." I leave that idea hanging; she's an intelligent, imaginative girl. The sudden return of tension to her shoulders tells me she's understood as my hands continue their ministrations.

I'm under no illusions here; I know that, despite my efforts to keep trim and take care of myself, I'm unlikely to be a nineteen or twenty-year-old's erotic fantasy, not compared to her friend, Emily-Rose, and especially not to Beth, to whom I saw Suzie talking for some time at the rehearsal. On the other hand, they have not suggested the idea of an intimate and sensual massage. I lean in and smell the fresh scent of her hair, the tousled ends brushing my cheek. "You do seem in need of some de-stressing." While my nails are not long, unlike Suzie's they are not bitten and have enough length to make her gasp and shiver as my right thumbnail softly traces the line of her spine up from between her shoulder blades. "Oh, sorry," I say, "did you not like that?"

"Urm, no, I mean... it was sort of unexpected but... nice." I notice a slight colour to her cheeks that I'm sure wasn't there when she arrived. I allow my hands to roam lower and I can feel the straps of her bra through the fabric of her tee-shirt. My trace them, making it clear I've noticed it.

"Bras can be such uncomfortable things, can't they?" I muse, as if thinking out loud.

"Um, yes... sometimes." There is a decidedly husky note to her voice and I must make a decision: do I stop here, another small step completed, or do I risk more? It is not a simple decision. My libido urges me on, but my mind is ambivalent. Certainly going too far too quickly carries its risks but so does backing off now; Suzie may reflect on her feelings here and now and come to fear her sexual urges, never letting me become this intimate again. However, if she takes that extra step now... As the Bard himself put it, 'There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.' Perhaps this is true not just for ancient Roman men but also for a forty-three-year-old lesbian.

"You would be more comfortable and I could do more for you if you were lying down," I suggest as my lips touch her skin. The die is cast, as Julius Caesar said, although not because he'd just kissed the back of a girl's neck. With the smallest of nods, she stands.

Suzie

Tati is right, I am very tense, although my exams really are the least of it. I was greatly tempted to make an excuse not to come this morning, in part because I'm meeting Beth later, before the rehearsal, to go through the play with her.

Emmy was correct in her letter: I do like Beth; though 'fancy Beth' would be more accurate. It was sweet that she sought me out at the end of the read through to give me her phone number; slightly discouraging is that, when I called her, all she seemed to want was my knowledge of Shakespeare. Still, if I'm with her then maybe we can become friends and if we're friends then maybe we can be something more.

However, that lies in a dim and vaguely possible future. In the very real present, Tati is massaging my neck and shoulders in a way that, like the kiss during my further audition last Sunday, raises the possibility that she's trying to seduce me. If she is then the question is: am I going to let her? Unlike Sunday, there is something this morning that makes me feel it really could go all the way. Perhaps my clothing has given her ideas -- the tight jeans and a t-shirt that does a good job showing off my boobs -- all chosen this morning with Beth in mind.

As I recognised on Sunday, Tati's attractive enough, given her age. Part of me feels I should stand up and leave because it's Beth I fancy and I really cannot see me being able to come out to Mum telling her that the woman I've fallen for is quite likely older than she is! However, my body is clearly not as principled and my one night of lesbian almost-love at university -- just cuddles and kisses and shy, nervous caresses -- leaves it up for just about any kind of sexual adventure.

Her fingernail runs up my spine sending electric tingles through me and making me shiver. Tati apologises and I try to brush it off by telling her she'd startled me but admit it felt nice, hoping she'll do it again. The fact is I am definitely getting turned on here. Alas, there is no repetition as now I can feel her fingers tracing along the straps of my bra, reminding me of how nice it would be not to be wearing one, even if that would, of course, mean the state of my rock-hard nipples being blatantly obvious.

"Bras are such uncomfortable things, aren't they?" Tati mutters. I'm not sure if she's just thinking aloud but I can't help mumbling my agreement. God, I'm feeling randy. "You'd be much more comfortable lying down and I could do more for you if you were..." she suggests.

I feel her breath on my neck followed by the soft, warm moistness of her lips. Somehow, the fact that I appear to have the part of Beatrice regardless of what I chose now seems to make saying yes easier; I can do so without feeling like I'm prostituting myself. With a little nod, I stand and hesitantly reach out my hand for her to take it.

She leads me from the room and up the stairs; it is all a little dreamlike, a bit like my encounter with Kris. However, while with Kris, or 'Mother Christmas' as she first introduced herself, there was a mysterious, magical feel of discovering myself; with Tati, it is decidedly carnal: simple, basic desires and sexual urges.

She draws me into a bedroom where there is a double bed. "If you can get undressed now, Suzie," she instructs, "then lie on the bed and I'll be back shortly with some oil to massage you." She turns and leaves the room. However, the thought of undressing is a mix of kinky arousal, nervousness and excitement. Without looking back Tati leaves the room and I begin by kicking my sneakers off. There is a closed wicker basket on the other side of the bed and I place my t-shirt and bra on it. She said undress but she can't mean strip completely, surely? She's only going to massage my back and shoulders, after all.

I glance through the open bedroom door and there's no sign of Tati and decide that lying on the bed as instructed is quite appealing. I settle on the bed, face down as this feels decidedly less exposed; my bum will be on prominent display when Tati returns but at least it is still clothed. I feel very self-conscious; while it's true that I've come a long way from the fat, shy girl that Danny groped in the garden, I'm never going to be truly thin, like Emmy. Don't get me wrong, I'm not unhappy with how I look now, it just that being topless means there's no hiding my squishier bits.

A moment's panic fills me: what the fuck am I doing? I'm half-naked on a bed in the house of a woman I barely know, just asking to be molested! No, asking to be seduced I correct as an intense, almost orgasmic tremble runs through my pussy. Kris opened the door to my sexuality but I've been too hesitant and shy about it since. In the eighteen months since there has been only one sexual encounter -- that night of kisses and fumbling and touching with Karen, who I met at a university party and was studying physics, or so she claimed, but who left me no number and never contacted me after she walked from my room the following morning.

I close my eyes, trying to relax and let go of the anger I still feel towards Karen. Being away from home and with new people is supposed to be a chance to reinvent oneself, and I'm doing my best, but new people also means not knowing how they'll react to my telling them I'm a lesbian so I've mostly not done so. I never even joined LGB-Soc, as the Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual Society was commonly called; too shy to approach them during Freshers' Week and too nervous to go along after people had started to get to know each other. Next academic year I will do it differently. No, not next year: now. I am a lesbian and anyone I tell who doesn't or can't accept that can fuck right off. I'm glad Emmy seems okay with it now.

I give a start as a hand caresses my bum. "Oh, Suzie my dear, I instructed you to undress." Her voice carries a distinct note of disapproval.

"I have; you're only massaging my back aren't you?"

"Well," she hesitates and steps forward, leaning to place a bottle on the table beside the bed. She is now wearing a white satin robe that gapes as she bends, revealing that she is braless beneath it as I am given a side view of a full, rounded boob. "I don't want to get oil on your jeans when I massage your lower back," she explains, "so perhaps if you just undo the waistband?" It seems sensible, or as sensible as anything, given the situation.

"There," I tell her after reaching beneath myself to pop the button. Immediately I feel her fingers slip into the top of my jeans, pushing them halfway down my bum and exposing the pale blue of my panties.

"Very good," she murmurs. "I'm sure you hear this often, but you have a delightful body." I almost burst out laughing but the tone with which she says this seems completely sincere.

"Um, thank you," I manage, though I cannot help the slightly bewildered note to my reply. I give a little gasp as cold droplets trail over my back and I realize it is the massage oil. I hear the soft tap of the bottle of oil as she returns it to the bedside table and then her fingertips are spreading the rapidly warming oil across my skin. Oh god, that feels nice, her whole hands now running in long, gentle curves up my back and over my shoulders and neck. She adds more oil and I can smell a gorgeous scent but not one I can quite identify: there is a suggestion of orange but also stronger, richer and muskier aromas that I cannot name but almost recognise.

Tati's fingers press start to more firmly, making sweeping arcs that radiate out from my spine. There are a few twinges as they find knots in the muscles but they soon pass as the kneading continues. My body tingling with the feel of her hands on me, I find myself feeling both relaxed and gently aroused at the same time.

"How are you feeling, Suzie?" she asks after what seems a long time -- though most definitely not long enough -- while her hands slow and ease to wide, gentle strokes.

"Mmmm, wonderful, thank you," I almost purr.

"Excellent. Now I would be very pleased if we could swap places and you would now massage me."

"Um, well, I suppose," I reply. The request is surprising but hardly, as I think about it, unreasonable. "I've never tried to massage anyone before," I warn her, truthfully.

"Oh, that won't matter, Suzie: I'm sure you are a wonderfully adept pupil." I half turn, leaning on one elbow, as I figure that any attempt at modesty at this point is both futile and redundant. What I see is Tati opening her silken gown to reveal a full and remarkably good figure that is clad only in black lace panties. The gown gives a soft whisper as she lets it fall; she certainly seems very free of inhibitions as she gestures for me to move from the bed.

Stood in her place and looking down at her in mine, I seem to have agreed to her request. Okay, what do I do? Yes, oil first... I reach for the open bottle beside the bed and drizzle it over her back. I try to recall and copy what Tati did, spreading the oil softly at first and then, with a little more pressure, I begin to massage her.

While I could feel what she did to me, I have no real idea of how she did it so I have to go by instinct, trying what I think might feel right and good. Tati says nothing, neither praise nor complaint, so I assume I'm not making a complete hash of it.

At first, I'm aware only of the soft feel of her oil-slick skin beneath my hands, a pleasant feeling in itself. Gradually, I begin to notice the feel of bone and muscle below and how she is relaxing. There is a feeling of intimacy brought on by this deeper awareness of her body and this triggers other thoughts...

I find myself wondering what if it was not Tati lying there but Beth. Mmmm yes, Beth nearly naked beneath my caressing fingers... feeling that same relaxing-yet-arousing tingle that I had felt under Tati's touch. How could I suggest a massage to her and where? I don't have the luxury of a home of my own so it would have to be when Mum was out...

"Suzi?" Tati's voice snaps me to attention and I realize that in my daydream I have all but stopped massaging her.

"Um, sorry, Tati it's er, massaging is more tiring on the fingers than I expected." I come up with the excuse as I notice a slight ache in my hands.

"You obviously need more practice, though that wasn't bad as a first attempt, I suppose. Ah well, perhaps we should get on." She climbs from the bed and retrieves her gown. "You may get dressed now, though I tempted to say you should stay like that," she tells me, gazing unashamedly at my topless state. Unexpectedly, and only now, do I feel my cheeks redden; perhaps it's the thought of her requiring me to act semi-naked.

"I think I'll get dressed," I say hurriedly, moving rapidly to retrieve my bra. "Thank you for the massage, it was, um, very nice and relaxing." She regards me as I quickly dress as she slips her gown on and reties it.

"You're welcome, Suze. Now, I want to go over just a little of the first scene with Benedick; not to rehearse it, as such, but to see how we might pitch it, the tone of it, if you will." I nod in understanding. "If we have time after then I'd also like your thoughts on how Beatrice's relationship with Benedick develops so her sudden love for him doesn't seem contrived." She turns away and walks from the room, leaving me to pull my shirt on and tidy myself up.

A strange morning; a strange woman too, I can't help thinking. She obviously likes to feel in charge and almost certainly has her eyes on me, sexually. I should tell her I'm not interested but, with just one rehearsal completed so far, I don't want to burn any bridges just yet. Hopefully, I can avoid saying anything for a while, avoid coming here too often, if I can, and when I can't just go along with a bit of semi-nudity and the occasional massage, especially as the massage was enjoyable and is a skill that might yet come in handy with the right girl!

I take a deep breath. Right, time to focus on acting and in an hour or so I'll meet Beth.

Tom

I've never much got involved in the backstage stuff before, just the odd bit of scene-shifting and helping with the final outdoor setup for 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', so walking in is kind of stressful. I recognise a lot of the old guys there, though apart from Nick and Lance I don't really know anyone... wait, there's Matt who was in 'Dream' with me.

They're all standing chatting and I do feel a fraud being here. I guess I can paint stuff like walls but I was crap at any of the woodwork stuff at school. I suppose I can always do the carrying and tidying up. Shit, she's not here so maybe I'll just slip out... oh crap, Nick's spotted me.

"Tom, we've not seen you here before, but an extra pair of hands is always welcome," he calls over, smiling.

"Um, yeah, well I thought, you know, as I've only got a couple of small parts in this one I should see if you needed any help."

"That's very good of you... ah, Emily, you made it." He looks past me and I turn to see her; there's the same tingly feeling in my stomach that I got when I saw her at the read through. She looks unsure about being here too.

"Er, hi Nick, sorry I'm a bit late. Here, I've produced some sketches for the two statues..." she blurts out as she holds up a large drawing pad, fumbling to open it. I surprise myself by stepping forward to take the pad, holding it for her. She looks up and she smiles at me. "Thanks," she whispers and opens to a page on which a naked woman is drawn and, annoyingly, I feel I'm blushing. "Here is the sketch for the Venus statue."

"Well, I... I think that the statue should be a little less... unclad; don't you agree, Emily?"

"Well, I sort of based it on a photo of a Greek statue of Aphrodite and that was nude... but I guess I could add something to cover her pus... um, her private parts. I think her breasts should stay bare though," she finishes, and it sounds like she means that.

"Hmm, I'm not sure..."

"I think she's right, Nick; if the statue is fully clothed people won't know that it's Venus," I say, mostly to support Emily but also because Nick is being ridiculously prudish. I hope I don't sound as nervous as I feel but Nick seems to accept my point.

"Okay, well, topless like that Venus de Whatsit statue."

"The Venus de Milo," Emily replies. She looks a little annoyed by Nick's disapproval of her idea. "I'm not sure, but I assume it has to be waterproof?" she asks, changing the topic slightly.

"Yes, but it only has to be outside for a couple of weeks so we just give things several coats of paint or varnish and that seems to do it for most materials. We made rocks out of polystyrene and papier-mâché for 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' a couple of years ago and they survived," Nick tells her.

"I saw them; they looked really effective. Anyway, papier-mâché was what I was planning, maybe with a coating of plaster. This is the other statue: Cupid." Emily turns over a couple of pages in the sketchbook I'm still holding.

"I thought Cupid was, like, a baby," I say in surprise at the upside-down drawing in front of me of a completely naked young man, apart from the quiver on his back, holding a bow and arrow.

"Not in mythology he wasn't; he was the lover of Psyche, apparently. Do I need to cover him up too?" she challenges Nick.