A Question of Faith

Stephanie shivered as she walked past the fridge's lining the supermarket aisle. Goosebumps rose on her naked arms. She felt uncomfortable; the charcoal dress restricted her shoulders. She hated changing back into her work cloths after exercising. The cold air attacked her aching feet trapped within her court shoes. It made her nylon stockings cold and abrasive to her legs. She made a mental note to change her exercise day.

*

She looked down at her hands all the items from her list were gathered in the shopping trolley. Stephanie was touring the aisles looking to see the Caribbean woman. Stephanie had started shopping midweek by accident. Varying the day to suit her weekly schedule. Now she scheduled her work around this day of the week. Work was tough. It had to be. Stephanie had a career plan to take her to the top. Like Paul her partner she was ambitious without compromise. They planned to marry some time, currently they shared a roof, and occasionally they shared a bed. Work was the thing now; it would give them a life eventually. The time they missed together would be compensated in years to come. The tall Caribbean woman was a different priority. Maybe she would never appear again.

As the fatigue engulfed Stephanie she tried to rationalise the importance of the encounter. They had never spoken, exchanged so much as a nod. Yet it had become an event of major importance, to see her, to know how she was dressed. She would wear leather. Stephanie knew. It was all she had ever seen her wear. Clothes or dress had never been an issue for Stephanie. Jeans and tee shirt were her preference, dresses or skirts the working norm. Stephanie always wore dark clothes they looked efficient businesslike. Which was exactly what Stephanie was; a ruthless professional, firm, fair, calculating. She would not use her sex, to gain attention. She believed in results alone.

Stephanie felt like she had hit a brick wall. She was physically drained. Mentally as she paced the aisles she tried to see beyond. Thinking through the work politics, trying to devise the plan, to take her onto the next level. She was one of the boys she wanted to be one of the men, one of the hierarchy within her firm. Paul occasionally mocked her, saying he could turn queer, if she grew some balls. Stephanie didn't appreciate the comment. Her breasts were small, but she was definitely a woman. Frills and lace didn't suit her. She liked functional clothes and underwear. He didn't complain when she wrapped her naked limbs around him, beneath the comfort of the sheets. He liked the stamina and strength of her body when her thighs gripped his hips, riding his length long into the night. Stephanie was a woman, to those she wanted to be. At work, she was an employee just like the rest.

Lost in thought Stephanie almost collided with the elegant leather clad figure she had been seeking. She swerved to miss the brown-skirted rump, topped by an orange and chocolate harlequin vest. Switching to the opposite shelves Stephanie stopped to study her ticked list. The lithe glossy limbs sauntered by, the full length of leg revealed by a thigh high split. Transfixed Stephanie waited as the orange high-heeled ankle boots rounded the corner. She slumped over her trolley as the sound of her beating heart filled her ears. As if travelling on cushions of air, the Caribbean woman appeared to glide like a ghost. So effortless and measured were her steps they appeared slow. Yet the woman so quickly disappeared.

Stephanie doubled back, trying to calculate their next point of intersection. In the distance the woman turned the corner walking up the aisle. Quickly grabbing a tin from the shelf Stephanie paused to wait. The long legs propelled the statuesque body towards her. Full dark breasts, glided forward as if moulded into the leather top. The long plaited hair bobbed like a beaded curtain with the gentle rhythm of her motion. The woman instinctively selected items from the shelves never deviating from her stride. She passed Stephanie again. Stephanie continued her fictional shopping tour shadowing the woman around the shop. A new elation and energy entered her step, as she followed her to the checkout tills.

This was it, the evening done. Not once had they spoken. Stephanie guiltily left the shop. She couldn't explain why she did it. From where she got the thrill. This woman was special. She had a confidence, a presence that demanded attention. It was not enough reason to follow her around. There was something more, making her exciting. It was irrational and stupid. The woman countered everything Stephanie believed in. There was nothing of suppressed sexuality about the woman's dress. To the contrary, she was quite the reverse, to the point of being obvious. Yet she had a calm, superiority in her face, which said approach me if you dare. Stephanie didn't dare. Perhaps the mystique lay in the veneer, making her attractive, exclusive beyond reach.

Cars cruised looking for a parking space, as Stephanie searched for a last trace of the Caribbean woman. She had gone. Sadly loading her shopping into the car Stephanie returned the shopping trolley to its space. Opening her car door she found herself blocked by a silver sports car halting inches diagonally from her. A beaded head appeared from the tinted darkened cabin,

'You looking for me girl?'

'No' came Stephanie's nervous reply, feeling vulnerable trapped between the two cars.

'Why have you been following me around for the past weeks, like a lost puppy looking for its owner?' The Caribbean woman eased open her car door imprisoning Stephanie in a triangle of metal.

The woman swung her long mahogany legs round in the seat slipping her booted feet onto the ground. The warm smell of leather drifted towards Stephanie. Even the car interior was leather. As the heady aroma bit, Stephanie detected a second note, fragrant like exotic flowers. She felt lightheaded. Too much exercise. The shopping trip had been a mistake. Paul had warned her she wasn't eating properly. She ignored him. She always did. The Caribbean woman was studying her. Her eyes were soft brown, in a sparkling white setting. The flickering movement traced around Stephanie's figure, constantly returning to her face.

'You want something from me girl?'

Stephanie was embarrassed by the questioning. She didn't know what she wanted. She was guilty at being caught. She remained sullen defensive looking for a quick way out.

'I haven't been following you. It's just coincidence.' Stephanie studied her car; she had no way to get in without the other woman moving.

'Look I'm sorry. It's late. I am tired. It has been a long day. I'd like to go home now. If you'd just move your car.'

The fine leather of the woman's driving glove, stroked along Stephanie's hipbone.

'I can see you are tired. You are weary but you followed me. What is it you want from me?' The Caribbean woman looking directly into Stephanie's eyes fixed her with a commanding stare.

Stephanie stood hypnotised by the woman. The gloved hand continued to stroke her hip. Stephanie felt awkward. The feeling was not unpleasant. As the hand travelled down her dress to massage her thigh, it became soothing relaxing. Stephanie felt she should ask her to stop. She felt a tremble in her legs. Stephanie rolled her lower lip over her teeth. What she felt was wrong, but she didn't want it to stop either. She felt herself being pulled closer to the woman. The aroma of flowers became more heady and stronger. Stephanie's hands hung limp by her side. Why did she not pull away from the hold? Why could she not just arrest the fingers stroking her thigh the flattened palm now massaging her lower abdomen?

'Come on girl. Don't be shy, why you been following me all these weeks?' The Caribbean woman asked. Her thumbs shadowed Stephanie's vulva, as the fingers still gripped her thigh. Stephanie's voice was breaking as she began to speak.

'I wasn't following you. I'm sorry if it appeared so.'

Stephanie could feel the pressure of the thumbs through her clothes. Her body was quivering. When would the woman stop? The feeling was delicious. Should she tell her to stop or beg her to continue?

'You got a problem with me girl? You are shaking.'

'No. I'm feeling chilly. I think it's because I'm tired.'

'Is this what you want? Do you want me to carry on?' The Caribbean woman pulled Stephanie between her parted thighs.

Stephanie could feel the cool of the glistening skin against her stockings. An electric thrill passed into her belly. She looked down onto the limbs gently embracing her. They were long round gently muscled, not taut and flat like her own. Her eye travelled up to the deep vee of the leather vest the relaxed contours of the full cleavage rising and falling with each steady breath. Her thoughts were confused; the soft breasts appearing as a sanctuary, a place to be held, safe and warm. The woman's legs seemed like welcoming arms, ready to draw her back into the womb. Her touch, her eyes all felt too comfortable, she must stop before she went to far.

'I've got to go.' Stephanie repeated. The words seemed like a plea, not for escape, but confirmation to stay. They were an appeasement to her conscience for the guilt she felt would come.

'What's your name my little shadow.'

'Steph. Stephanie. I admit to noticing you. Maybe accidentally following you but I didn't mean anything.' Stephanie looked away from the brown eyes, she felt as if she was about to drown in them. She felt the heels of boots close around her calves. She was a captive to the smooth limbs. She felt fingers close about her waist, then slide along the dip in spine.

'You waited for me Stephanie. I watched you. I watched you walk around the shop looking for me. Don't be afraid of me. I won't hurt you. I'm Faith. Faith never hurt anyone. Just guided them where they wanted to go.'

Stephanie watched the dwindling shoppers in tides ebbing and flowing from the store. They appeared not to notice her yet she felt so conspicuous standing beside the sports car. This couldn't go on. Faith would release her. It would all seem like a dream. Why was she so helpless? Her life had purpose. She had drive. She was the one always giving directions. How could the momentum halt in one woman's hands? She didn't need guidance. She knew where she was going.

The hands circled up from her waist, massaging her tummy, before stroking her breasts. This was madness, she had to stop. Someone would see. Perhaps already there were groups hidden watching. Watching her open wanton performance. Watching her manipulation in the hands of another woman. She felt her nipples stiffen to the touch. She felt the modest swell of her breasts tighten. Her body was possessed as her hips began to pulse craving for a further touch. The leather fingers ran down the bare skin of her arms. She felt the fine hairs rise on her forearms, as tingles spread from the nape her neck.

'Skin to skin. Flesh on flesh. There is nothing like the touch of leather. Animal encasing animal, it's primal, it is nature. It is communion with your raw self. It is within you, it is within everyone, don't fight it, live it.'

Stephanie felt she should escape. It had to stop. It must stop. Something deep within her had awoken. The breeze, which preludes the storm, played gently inside her, softly tickling, toying with her senses. So pleasant it was nothing more than a distraction. She could stop it. She would stop it. She could say no. The leather fingers trailed down her leg, slipped under the fabric of her dress. Skin on nylon, smooth satisfying. She felt her muscles tremble again. Felt the warmth of Faith's thighs as they gripped her tighter. A gentle warmth spread through her. Skin on skin, reaching the top of her thigh.

Stephanie bit her lip. She was shaking. This mustn't happen.

'No.' She gripped at the leather hands through her dress.

'Stop.' Stephanie tried to move but she was held within Faith's grip. The stayed hands stroked her bare thighs. Lightly circling the muscle, front and back.

'Tell me what you want girl. Tell me what you really want. You don't have to be afraid to speak. Do you want me to stop? We can do anything you want.'

The leather fingers ran along the dip between Stephanie's pelvis and thigh. Her hips responded pressuring forward towards Faith. Stephanie looked to the lights of the supermarket, so bright they illuminated the darkening sky. Her hands contained Faith's wrists whilst her stomach turned somersaults. Her body quivered to the soothing exploring touch beneath her dress. Every thing seemed to spin in a vortex of emotion.

'Stop please stop.' As Stephanie spoke she felt her hands relent releasing Faith's wrists. Instead she stood limp supported at the hip, perspiration trickling down her face, mingled with a tear of confused frustration.

'It's wrong you know. We shouldn't do it.' She sniffed.

Faith's hands continued to massage her hips inching slowly across her abdomen. A leathered palm slid to the head of Stephanie's vulva eased between the parted thigh. The palm gently pressed against her cotton pants feeling for the growing furrow inside.

'Is this not nice girl? Is this not pleasurable? Is there something wrong with pleasure? Is this what you wanted from me girl?' Faith asked pressing her mouth to the front of Stephanie's dress, pressing her lips against the dome at her navel.

'I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. Why are you doing this to me?' Stephanie ran her hand through her short dark hair. Smearing away the damp trickling down her face. She had never felt like this. She had never been in a situation where she had so little control. Her own body was responding to another, ignoring every control she placed upon it. She felt her labia flowering inside its cotton protection, the damp warmth, spreading along the fabric.

'I'm doing nothing to you girl. Nothing you don't want me to. It's nothing to cry about. Relax loosen up, enjoy. Enjoy like me.' Faith smiled her generous fleshy lips widening to a broad sparkling grin.

Faith splayed her legs forcing up her leather skirt. She pulled Stephanie against her. Stephanie felt the heat of Faith's naked sex against her nyloned leg. The shaved sex was ground into her limb. The flared lips planting a series of sizzling brushed kisses against her leg as Faith gyrated her hips from the leather seat. Stephanie stared at the shaved vagina, ravishing her leg. She watched the lithe body, with its fluid motions slowly enveloping her. She felt her reserve slowly being crushed. There still remained one single rod holding her rigid stopping her from letting go.

The night air brushed the top of Stephanie's legs. The realisation was followed by the movement of her dress. Faith's hands gradually drawing the hem over her thighs. A warm mouth kissed above the welt of her stocking. A tongue trailed up her thigh.

'No not here. Can't we go somewhere? Anywhere away from view?' Stephanie pushed at Faith's shoulders. Feeling the silky warm strength of the sinew.

'What you ashamed of honey? You exercise you tone. Your stomach is as flat as a board. Aren't you proud of your body? Don't you want me to see it?' Faith queried into her exposed thighs.

'I'm not ashamed. You can see all of it. I want to share it with you. But not here. Not where people can see.' Stephanie tried to brush her dress down. Faith held it, as she looked up, Stephanie's eyes misted over.

She couldn't do it. She never could have people look at her. She didn't want people to look at her, to comment about her body. It was hers. People had to accept her for who she was. Not what she was. Her body had no significance; it was the machine to power her mind. Why was it so important to Faith? Why did it feel so good to have Faith want her this way? Stephanie wanted to please her, to enjoy the pleasure. Why was she crying when she felt so good?

'Am I not people. I want you here. I want you now. I am a seed dancing on the wind. I have no direction. People look at me all the time. You looked at me. I saw you watching. You followed me. I enjoyed it. I am proud of my body. Proud of the power it has to attract. Anyone can watch me, I just chose who sees me. Who comes close to me? You were attracted to me. The wind has brought me to you. You are an attractive woman Stephanie. Catch me now or let me slip away into the night.'

'I'm not attractive. I'm skinny, like a boy. I can't be beautiful like you. You don't understand. I couldn't tell you before.' Stephanie caught the words for the first time. Only hearing them as she spoke them. 'I don't want anything from you. I want to be you. The person everyone notices when she enters a room. I'm tired of fighting to be heard. Tired of clamouring for attention. People should want to be near me, to hear what I have to say. I can't do what you want. I can't be what you want. They'll only watch me to humiliate me. To see me as your naked throwaway.'

Stephanie had always been known as stick. Taunted in the school showers for her budding breasts. As a woman she had developed a shape lacking the feminine presence of Faith. She shared interests with Paul, loved him almost like a brother. Never had she relinquished herself to him. Stephanie had always been in control.

'If you are going to be me girl you've got to think like me. Act like me. I am beautiful. So are you. You got to believe it. You've got to want me honey.' Faith having spoken pressed against the weakening resistance of Stephanie's hands. The brush of her lips against Stephanie' s thigh was like bubbling silk. Faith's mouth parted, sucking in Stephanie's trembling flesh, slurping and sliding till it nuzzled the sweeping delta where her thigh joined her hip.

'This feel like a Judas kiss? The cold touch of betrayal. Give yourself to me. I will make you a new woman.'

Faith's lips swept along Stephanie's thigh. Her body yielded she could press no more. Stephanie's hands slid onto Faith's shoulders enjoying the touch of the skin between her fingers. The pliant pads of flesh masking the muscle rolled between her fingertips. She felt her dress rise above the waist. The leather fingers clasping and stroking her round buttocks. The hot wet warmth of Faith's face burrowed into the white cotton of her pants.

Despite the falling temperature, Stephanie found herself full of heat. Bubbling boiling within her, radiating from every pore. She mapped the contours of Faith's back, her fingers trailing about her arms and neck, never daring to venture further. Afraid of where she wanted to touch. Not daring to admit the thrill.

Faith's face rose from Stephanie's abdomen the brown eyes wide hungry. The leather-clad fingers began to tug at Stephanie's pants.

'No don't.' she uttered feebly. 'Not here.'

Faith continued looking back into Stephanie's face. She felt the air tease her abdomen. Felt the elastic of her pants tighten round her thigh. Her labia lips relinquished their sticky hold on the cotton as the cool leather fingers stroked against them. The warm cotton brushed her legs as her pants fell to lay discarded at her ankles. Faith blew gently onto Stephanie's pubic mound. The breath rippling through the tangled hairs. With an almost reverential touch the leather gloves stroked and smoothed a path to Stephanie's Vagina. Stephanie moved her hands. She wanted to cover herself. Hide her sex from Faith's eyes. She felt the gateway to her vagina in full bloom. The labia lips parted wantonly inviting exhibition.

Faith's mouth closed over them, her tongue moistening the already damp petals. Stephanie released a shudder from the impact of the first shards of her brewing volcanic orgasm. She felt Faith disappear between her legs. Her clitoris jolting to the warm lapping of the probing tongue. Held between lips and tongue her bud pulsed, causing her hips to buck and thrust against the widening mouth. A molten mass of emotion stirred with each deepening caress. Stephanie was lost. She could resist no further, just react to the touch of the other woman. Her hips ground and pressed against Faith's face with an instinct of their own.