A New Adventure Every Day Pt. 01

Her touch sends electric shivers up my spine. "Meg," I hesitate, trying to organise my thoughts, "Meg, I really like you and I really want to be your friend." I see hope flare in her eyes, "But, oh Meg, I can't be your girlfriend. Even if I were bisexual, this last year has been horrible and I don't think I'm ready for that sort of relationship with anyone."

She looks disappointed and her caressing stops. Then she nods, "I understand, I think, and we can just be friends; maybe even best friends."

"I haven't had a 'best friend' since I was at school but, yes, that would be really nice," I tell her and pull her in to hug her for her understanding. I feel her arms slip around me and I can't help noticing how comfortably we fit together and how very nice she is to hold. I can smell her perfume, a soft musk that is delightful. "Thank you, Meg. This has been a lovely evening."

"It has; a lovely afternoon and a lovely evening," she agrees as she rests her head on my shoulder. I hear her whisper, "I still reckon you're bi, though." I laugh to cover my embarrassment but it feels so comfortable with her that we stay together through the last dance as well.

We sit with Karen and Dave and are joined by a couple more of Meg's friends. Sure enough the girlfriend question gets asked, though less directly this time as George asks, "So Meg are, er you and Sam, you know..."

"No, George," replies Meg calmly, "Sam and I are not 'you knowing'; we're simply good friends, that's all." I look across and Karen gives me a little nod as if to say well done. We chat a while but the party is winding down and Meg and I stand to go. I feel the world spin and I sway with it.

I feel Meg's arm around me. "Come on, Sam Cummings, let's get you home," she murmurs to me as she helps me start the long walk back.

  CHAPTER 5 -- Hangovers and Cryptic Clues

I wake with the usual symptoms consequent to the over imbibing of alcoholic beverages: my brain feels two sizes too big for my skull, my eyes feel as if the eyeballs have been taken out, rolled in sharp sand and replaced and by the taste of it my mouth has had a gerbil nesting in it. No, make that two gerbils.

My bladder is also sending urgent 'I'm about to burst' signals so I sit up with a heartfelt groan. I can feel that I am naked save for my panties and, when I force my reluctant eyelids open, in front of me I can see my cobalt blue dress on a hanger hooked over the top of the wardrobe door. However, my impatient bladder will brook no further delay so I stagger rapidly from the bedroom and downstairs to the bathroom where I plonk myself onto the toilet.

It's only as I start to pee that I realize I neglected to remove my panties. I feel the hot liquid flow over my vulva, an amazingly sensuous sensation that I might well have thoroughly and erotically enjoyed had I not otherwise felt so terrible.

As the flow stops I raise my bum slightly and slide the panties down to my thighs. Looking down I can see my vulva and mons glistening with pee when I hear "Hi, are you alright Sam?"

I look up and Meg is standing in the doorway, loosely wrapped in my dressing gown and, quite possibly, nothing else. Several facts compete for my attention. She's just seen me pee my panties; she's a lesbian who fancies me and I'm effectively naked; she's standing there with just my dressing gown on; where did she sleep and what the fuck happened last night? In the end the hangover carries the day. "Fuck, Meg, I feel like shit!"

"Let me help," she tells me and without hesitation walks over and helps me remove my soaked panties. She shows not the slightest revulsion at handling them as she picks them up. However, even in my hung over state I am aware that her eyes linger on my hairless, piss-soaked sex. This does nothing to diminish my embarrassment.

"Oh Meg, I'm sorry. What must you think of me?"

"Hey, Sam, it's nothing; in your state I'm impressed you made it to the bathroom! Now, up you get," and with her free hand she helps me to stand

"Meg, I'm naked!" I protest.

She grins. "Trust me Sam, I am very, very well aware of that but I'm trying to be on my best behaviour for my hung-over friend. I'm trying to tell myself that seeing you nude is simply a bonus for being a Good Samaritan." She guides me over to the bath. "Right, first take a shower, then coffee and finally paracetamol or any other headache remedy of your choice." She gives my bum a playful slap.

"Hey, is that best behaviour?" I complain.

"No: best friend's perks!" she quips as I close the curtain and turn the water on.

I stand under the shower, letting the water sluice over me and feeling myself revive a little. I slowly soap myself down, my fingers dwelling as I rub soap over my sex, recalling the sensation of peeing my panties and how curiously pleasant I'd found it. I am startled by Meg's voice just the other side of the shower curtain. "Come on or you'll dissolve!" I rinse myself off then turn the shower off and pull back the curtain to find her standing there holding a towel open for me. I step from the bath and she enfolds me in the towel, giving me a little hug.

She begins to dry me but, nice as it feels -- both her touch and the care she is taking of me -- I stop her. "Thank you, Meg, you're being so lovely but let me." I think I'm worried about just how much I might enjoy it if she went much further and give her the wrong idea.

"No problem, Sam love. I'll go and make some coffee," and she heads off.

A few minutes later I walk into the kitchen wrapped in the towel to see Meg placing a mug of black coffee on the table. "Thanks, Meg," as I sit down and pull the sugar bowl over and add two spoonfuls to the coffee: I don't normally drink black coffee so it needs sweetening. I look at Meg as she leans forward to place two paracetamol tablets on the table beside the coffee mug. As she does so the dressing gown hangs open, revealing her cleavage, trim stomach and her belly button above a pair of very skimpy cream panties. I find myself wondering what she'd look like naked and smile as I think it would only be fair; after all she'd just seen me naked.

"A penny for your thoughts, Sam," her voice jerks me back to reality.

"Sorry, I was miles away," I reply and take a sip of coffee. I pick up the tablets and put them in my mouth, washing them down with more coffee "Meg, did, um, did anything happen last night? I mean, I don't remember..."

"Don't you trust me, Sam?"

"Of course I do... Forgive me, I didn't mean you took advantage... but, well, did you undress me and put me to bed?"

"Yes, I did. You were pretty well out of it by the time we got here. I had to find your keys in your purse; I then managed to help you up the stairs and onto the bed but the next thing I knew you were asleep so I took your clothes off and tucked you in and, okay, I was a bit worried about you so I lay down beside you in case you needed me." She bit her lip and looked bashful, "I... might have hugged you... just a little bit..."

I smile at her to reassure her. "It was kind of you to take such care of me, thank you Meg." I hesitate but there's something I cannot help but ask. "Were you... undressed when you hugged me?"

"Does it matter?" she asks as she sits opposite me.

"No, not really, I guess," I reply but I think: yes! I want to know what it would feel like, being naked in bed with another woman. Then I worry that I might be getting carried away with this 'adventure a day' idea. "I ought to offer you breakfast or something, Meg. I can only apologise for being so needy and, well, drunk last night. Actually, how come you weren't as drunk as me? I'm sure we had the same number of drinks."

"We did," she laughs, "but you kept taking drinks from my glass as well as your own!"

"Oh God, I'm sorry! I didn't make a fool of myself, did I?"

"No, not at all." Meg takes my hand. "How much do you remember from last night, Sam?"

"Well, we met Erica and Bex and Karen and... Dave? There was John somebody and Jim and Mary... I know several of your friends asked about my being your girlfriend. I remember talking to Karen: she's very protective of you Meg."

"I know; Karen's a sweetie."

"I know we danced quite a lot and... did we slow dance together or did I dream that?"

"Hmm, do you think it was a good dream -- if it was a dream?"

"That's not a fair question," I protest, "especially when I'm hung over. If I say no then you'll be upset. If I say yes you'll think I'm a closet lesbian when in fact I'm straight."

"I don't know what you are, any more than you do, I think. However, if you're in the straight garden then you are definitely looking over the fence at the girl next door... or maybe the girl four doors down." Her mischievous smile is back. I have to think for a moment and then realize that she is the girl four doors down, literally.

"Okay, maybe I am looking -- just a bit -- but that's all!" I tell her firmly, not sure how much I really believe it. This is too awkward to talk about and though the headache is easing slowly I still feel unwell. I change the subject, asking, "Now, is there somewhere I can buy you breakfast?"

"No, there isn't. But you can come over to my house and I'll cook us brunch. Come on, finish your coffee and go and get dressed."

Some forty minutes later we're sat in Meg's kitchen as she hands me a plate with two slices of toast, a rasher of grilled bacon and a poached egg. It's all perfectly cooked but I cannot help looking at it uncertainly. The tea, however, is very welcome. She has her own plate of food and a newspaper open at the cryptic crossword beside her.

"Just eat a bit," coaxes Meg, "It'll help you feel better." So I start to eat: a bite of toast, a little egg, some bacon... She's right, it does help and the sick feeling subsides. We eat in silence as she looks at the crossword, filling in one or two clues between mouthfuls.

"How are you doing?" I ask, nodding at the crossword.

"Not too good. This is Friday's crossword and I'm still struggling."

"Go on then, let me see if I can help."

"Okay... fourteen across, five letters: the clue is 'My South African birthplace' and the middle letter is T."

I think for a minute. "Ah yes, Natal, N-A-T-A-L. It's a province in South Africa and also the word 'natal', meaning 'birth', you know, as in 'antenatal'."

She smiles at me, "Thanks teach! Okay, try this one: fifteen down, eight letters and the clue is 'Women in mutual attraction are confused in furs.' Oh, and the first letter is the L from 'NATAL'."

"Hmm... 'confusion' suggests an anagram, so... furs? Mink, no, fox, no... ah ha!" and I burst out laughing. "You really should have got this one!"

"Why?"

"A type of fur? Sable. So it's an anagram of 'in sables' that means 'women in mutual attraction'." She writes the letters in the corner of the paper and laughs.

"It's 'LESBIANS' isn't it? You're right, I should have got that. Though I'm not sure that the clue is right; I mean, we're mutually attracted but we're not lesbians, well I am but you're not, you told me."

I can feel my heart beating. It's true, I am attracted to her. She is beautiful and, well, I certainly didn't mind seeing her body under my dressing gown. I definitely want to spend time with her and I love her company. And when we danced last night... I wouldn't mind doing that again. And she's taken such care of me and made me feel so... I struggle to put words to what I feel. Cherished, that's it; cherished and cared for and safe. I find my sight blurring with tears.

"Sam?" Meg puts her hand on mine, her voice full of concern. "Are you alright?"

"Meg, I cannot thank you enough for how you've looked after me. You've been so kind and caring and it's been such a long time since I've felt someone cares about me. You really are the best friend I could have."

"Aw, Sam, thank you. I'm glad you think so. You know, I first saw you a couple of months ago, when you came to look at your cottage with the estate agent. There was something about you; I thought, 'that woman is special'. That's why I had to come over and meet you yesterday. I'm so glad I did."

Before I can reply the telephone rings and she goes through to the living room to answer it. I stand, gather the plates and take them to the sink to begin washing up. As I lift the last plate from the soapy water and start rubbing it clean, I feel Meg's arm slip round my waist. "You didn't need to do that," she chides. I stiffen slightly at her touch but then relax. She is so close that I catch the faint remnants of her perfume, reminding me of our dancing. I force myself back to the here and now.

"Meg, this really is the least I can do," I tell her. "I'm feeling much better thanks to you. Still a little delicate so I don't think I'll be drinking anytime soon!"

"Ah, are you sure? That was Karen on the phone; she and Dave are doing a barbecue next Thursday evening for Dave's birthday and they've invited us over."

"Really invited 'us' or invited you and you've blagged me as your plus one?" I ask, interested to know the answer. Meg hesitates and I turn to look at her.

"No, no, Karen specifically invited the two of us." To my amazement, she goes pink with embarrassment. "What she actually said was, 'We'd like to invite you, Meg and your not-girlfriend-girlfriend, Sam'.

"Should I be flattered on insulted? Is that better or worse than simply being a 'girlfriend'?" I laugh

"I'm not sure," she takes my hands, "Come on Thursday and you can ask her. Will you come?" she pleads.

"On one condition: don't let me drink alcohol like I did last night!"

"No problem, just as long as you don't ask me to get you any." She leans in to speak in her low, sexy voice, "You know I couldn't say no to you!"

To my dismay I feel my arousal stirring at her words, the little flutter in my pussy. It would be so easy to kiss her at this point but the mention of Karen has reminded me of my promise to her not to hurt Meg. "I can't imagine ever wanting wine again," I say firmly to break the moment. "Now, let me finish the washing and drying. Then we can finish that crossword."

It is a lazy day, the heat and the night before making us both lethargic. However, it helps my hangover pass and I start to feel well again, so much so that I insist on taking Meg to the pub in the village which serves food in the evenings. "I still owe you for all your tender, loving care." I tell her.

As we walk to the pub I decide to go to the gym tomorrow -- wherever that might be.

"Meg, where's the nearest gym?" I ask.

"I haven't a clue -- there certainly isn't one within ten miles of here. Why?"

"I wanted to do some exercise tomorrow and I used to go to the gym regularly."

"You could always go running I guess. The roads here are pretty quiet."

"Yeah, I might do that then. I just feel like getting..." I hesitate. I was going to say 'hot and sweaty' but I can imagine exactly the sort of comeback Meg will make to that, so I finish with "...the lungs and muscles working. Don't say it!" I warn as I see she is about to give the same response as she would have to 'hot and sweaty'.

She grins at me. "Okay, but can you wait until Wednesday so I can run with you?"

"Won't you be at work? It's still school term time, I'm sure."

"You're right, school doesn't break up for weeks. However, this Wednesday there's a teachers' in service training day and us teaching assistants don't go in."

"That would be really nice. You can find us a nice scenic route," I tell her.

And so we spend a pleasant evening together. I meet again some people I was introduced to last night and stand more chance of remembering names this time. The food is good and as darkness falls we walk home. At her garden gate we say goodnight and I kiss Meg's cheek, thanking her again. I can see her struggling internally; I'm sure she is tempted to invite me in, perhaps even to spend the night but after a few moments says goodnight. I walk away slowly. If she had invited me, would I have really said no?

  CHAPTER 6 -- The Scream in the Night

Monday morning and after the excitement of the weekend I feel curiously unsettled. The phrase 'at a loose end' sums me up perfectly. I sit in the kitchen and wonder what I'm going to do with my time in this new place. One look in the fridge tells me that shopping has to be number one priority and a look at the long grass and overgrown hedge puts gardening on the list at number two. Actually it will have to go at number four, right after 'learn to garden' and 'buy gardening tools'. Perhaps I can replace numbers two, three and four with 'hire gardener'. Maybe Meg can suggest someone.

I ought to explore a bit too; visit the village and walk in the wood in daylight. The memory of my naked escapade that first night gives me a little thrill. Maybe if I'd known the woods a bit better I could have caught up with the woman and... I am shocked by the sudden image of my taking that woman in my arms to kiss her. My mouth is dry and my heart beating rapidly as I push the image away. Damn Meg for her bi-sex comments I think to myself, though I'm not sure whether I'm cursing her for putting the idea of bisexuality into my head or for being right about my sexuality.

Annoyed, I stomp off to shower and dress. I know I shouldn't blame Meg for my feelings; I probably shouldn't be surprised, after the events of the last year, that I'm so captivated by someone who's as kind and friendly as Meg is. I just need to get a grip and this... infatuation, I guess it is, will pass.

I drive into the next town to shop at the supermarket there. However, I don't seem to be able to get Meg out of my mind; I realize how much I'm thinking of her when I find myself in the pasta aisle wondering if she'd prefer Spaghetti Bolognaise or Lasagne for dinner. What the fuck? I feel a tightness in my chest as I realize that was the sort of question I asked myself about Steve when I was married.

I try to rationalize it. Maybe subconsciously I knew that I'd invite Meg over for a meal; she'd cooked me brunch yesterday, after all. Also, she was my friend and I'd like to spend the evening with her and she is working and I am not, so I have time to cook... Yes Sam, I think, all very convincing. Almost. I bought both the spaghetti and the lasagne anyway, just in case.

After getting home and unpacking I am back to that nervous 'loose end' feeling of this morning. Preparing and eating lunch is a temporary distraction. Do I want to see Meg today? No, I decide; I need some space to get this in perspective, to stop obsessing on this woman, however lovely and kind and beautiful... aagh, stop it!

Back into town I go and to the cinema where I end up sitting through X-Men: First Class . I would normally have zero interest in such a film but it wins for two reasons: it starts within the next three-quarters of an hour and is long enough that I can eat out and be home too late to be tempted to call on Meg. I suppose I can also just about claim it as today's adventure.

I feel a little out of place in the audience, such as it is. However, I settle down and manage to lose myself in the film and find myself wondering what it would be like to change my appearance like the strange looking blue girl. I emerge into the early evening light and congratulate myself on not having though of Meg for nearly three hours. Damn and blast! I kick myself for immediately thinking about her as soon as I'm out of the cinema!

I finally make it home at around eight thirty. When I open the door there is a folded slip of paper on the floor:

Hi Sam!

Just popped round to see if you were up to anything this evening but you're out. Hope you're not up to anything fun without me!

Love,

Meg xx

I cannot help smiling; even her notes are flirty! However, looks like Meg's in much the same state as me in wanting us to meet and this helps me feel a bit less like an obsessed stalker. Maybe I should stop worrying about it and in the spirit of adventure just go with it; if we want to spend lots of time together, who's hurt? We're both adults, after all. But not this evening and I decide to make a start on the stack of books I promised myself that I'd read