Guilt & Redemption Ch. 07

I woke to the smell of coffee. Momentarily I was disorientated. Where was I? Then I heard Ali's voice:

"Shall I bring it in, or do you want to come through?"

And it flooded back. I could smell her on my skin. It felt wonderful. And never in my adult life had anyone made me coffee in the morning. It was the first of many precious occasions when what others take for granted without thinking, that is those moments of care which evidence love, which Ali was to share with me.

My bedroom was just across the small hallway from the kitchen-diner-cum living room, so I shouted I'd join her, finding a dressing gown to cover my nakedness. I padded through, to be greeted by a broad grin as Ali, clad only in her long teeshirt, poured me a coffee.

"You look as though you enjoyed the night before! Let's embrace the morning after!"

I embraced her, my face squished into her soft breasts. She stroked my hair.

"That was wonderful, Pixie. And it seemed so for you."

As I sat opposite her, I smiled, nodding.

She prepared some muesli and fruit for us both. Outside the world was beginning to stir. I loved the change in pace which the week-end brought. The flat was on the ground floor facing the road, and during the week I'd watch the school children chatter as they walked past. but on Saturday it was family groups. Now, instead of feeling lonely, I felt part of that world.

"How do you fancy doing the Farmers' Market, Pix?"

Revived by caffeine, and by the effect she was having on my spirit, I said that was fine by me. It was just after eight, and we had time to shower and get there soon after opening at nine.

Ali kissed me on the head.

"Okay, little one, let me shower first, and I'll dress while you do the same."

I showed her the peculiarities of my shower, which had a very narrow range between scalding you or freezing your tits off.

Ali stripped off and, smiling, went into the cubicle. I smiled, wanting to join her, but instead, went and cleared away the breakfast things.

By the time I had done, so had she. I showed her where my hair-dryer and brushes were, marvelling at the confidence with which marched naked into the room.

"If you don't get dressed, we shall never get out."

"We have all day, darling", she said, wiggling her arse as she left for the bedroom.

I looked in the mirror in the bathroom. My small breasts bore signs of her mouth, as my neck did. I felt proud. I was reluctant to wash her smell from me, but reflected there would be plenty of opportunity to get down and dirty again.

As I dried myself, I wandered into the bedroom. Ali looked so beautiful. Her light summer dress flattered her figure, and her hair was glossy and shining.

"You like?"

"I adore!"

I swiftly dried my hair and put it into a Danish plait. A short denim skirt and teeshirt did me - and a clean pair of knickers, of course!

As we went into the hallway, Roland, from the flat next door was also exiting. I introduced him and Ali to each other. It felt good. We walked, hand in hand along the road to the market, and got there just after opening time. That meant we got first pick of the goods, with time to rest by the river bank and have a coffee. As we collected our drinks we bumped into Karen, the Dean.

"Hi, Pix, and is this ...?"

I confirmed that it was indeed, and introduced them. Suddenly, all sides of my life seemed to join; it felt good.

That Saturday set things in place as far as I was concerned. The Sunday did the same for Ali, as she introduced me to her team as her "girlfriend". She invited them to join us for lunch, and to my surprise, I seemed to slot in easily. Evensong was the occasion for special thanks.

And so the tone was set. Our lives synchronised easily enough, and within a month, as the new academic year started, my life had been transformed. Ali would spend Friday and Monday nights with me, and I would spend the other nights with her. She even came with me to the dinner for new staff, a biannual event, and the first time I had been eligible since my permanent appointment. She was comfortable, and shone, as ever, and I glowed with pride.

I began to learn how to receive as well as give. Ali was very patient and understanding, but one Friday evening about a month into our relationship she stopped me as I was sinking to my knees to lick her.

"No Pixie!"

"No? Have, have I offended you," I asked, puzzled.

"From what you've told me Pix, your submissive instincts seem to be innate."

Blushing, I admitted that was so.

"You clearly need a firm hand, Pix, and by that I don't just mean a spank, though I do love your cute little arse. I mean you will have to be taken in hand."

Her voice dropped a register.

"Who do you belong to, Pix?"

I blushed, my cunt flooding, scarcely daring to breathe, at once hoping this was true and fearing it might change the dynamic in a bad way. But I knew the answer.

"I belong to you Ali."

Her smile melted my heart. I knew it would be okay.

"And what do good girls do?"

"As their owners say," I replied, getting into it, happily.

"Well then, Pix, what I want you to do is to get your arse onto this bed, lie down with your legs open and let me take you."

I blush now to recall that, partly because it shows how naive I was, and partly because it embarrasses me to think that was how I saw sex; but I recall it because it shows how acutely Ali had read me.

It was almost with bewilderment that I changed places with Ali. It was my job to please her, and that was what I craved.

As she knelt above me on the bed, her big breasts swung low, first touching my mouth, and then brushing against my engorged nipples making me moan.

Her hands parted my thighs, gripping my arse and pulling me to her. As her lips kissed my outer labia I moaned more loudly. She went slowly, up one side then down the other, kissing and blowing on my cunt as she opened it up. The feel of her breath on my unhooding clit sent me wild. Then she hummed, and the vibrations made me thrust myself against her lips, which sucked on my clit, her tongue teasing me.

I was in an erotic seventh heaven. No one had ever done anything like this to me. She slowly lapped up my opened cunt, her tongue teasing my pulsing clit, before pushing two fingers into my gooey wetness. I clenched, squeezing, wanting, wanting. I needed this.

"Fuck me, fuck me, oh Ali, fuckkkkkk meeeeeeeee, please!"

I heard my cunt make lewd, squelching noises.

Then her left hand was on my nipples. My tits may be small, but my nipples are super sensitive when aroused, and I was more aroused than I had ever been before.

Ali squeezed and pulled my nipples while her tongue and lips caressed and teased my wetness. I gripped her head, pushing myself shamelessly into her face. I rode hard, loving the sensations coursing through me and suddenly, my cunt felt warm and my sinews stiffened as I bucked - and came - came hard.

As the aftershocks died away, I saw her above me, smiling.

"Kiss me!"

We kissed, sharing my girl goo. I hugged her so tight.

"Ali, fuck, where, what, where did you ...?"

My words failed as another aftershock hit me.

She pulled me into her arms. We snuggled and cuddled.

"That, my Pixie, is what you deserve from your lover, so don't ever accept less - and for fuck's sake, remember, I love giving you pleasure. Love is not a one-way street and you are not some lesbian whore who has to please all the time by giving. You please me by receiving too - it's called love, Pix!"

It took me time to learn that lesson, indeed Ali would say I am still learning it, but she taught me that night how to really love.

The next months passed in a daze. Work was busy, but no longer everything, and I loved my evenings and nights.

Then, towards the end of November, just before Advent, I got an email from Karen asking if I could pop in to see her first thing Monday before class. I speculated with Ali as to what could be the matter, but was none the wiser until I saw Karen.

"Pix, the Director of Research has invited Ruth, and Milly, as part of our "Creative Industries" season, and has been asked, by Ruth, whether you'd lead the conversation." I was stunned. The event was part of a series to show how important Arts and Humanities were, and given the strength of my area, it was natural that Creative Writing should have been highlighted - but Ruth - and Milly - here in my sanctuary? I froze, barely taking in what Karen was saying.

"Ruth, apparently, said she'd quite understand if you felt unequal to the task, but Milly insisted you be given the option."

I had been toying with saying no, but that decided me:

"I will do it!"

Karen, who knew something of the outlines of my past with Ruth, looked concerned.

"Pix, there would be no problem if you couldn't, I would, or one of the professors could."

Appreciative as I was of her care for me, I knew, as I told Ali when I got home, that I had to do this.

Ali hugged me, telling me she agreed, and added she'd come to the talk and dine with us afterwards. I hugged her back.

She never once expressed any doubts. Ali's love and faith enabled me in a way that was unique to me.

Our love-making affirmed me. Knowing my tendencies, Ali would take the lead, but whilst firm with me, never crossed over into overt dominance, allowing me to own my submissiveness without attributing my actions to her will. Did I like being spanked? Yes, so admit it and own it. Did I like being told what to do? Yes, so admit that too and rejoice in it. Did I want to give rather than receive? Yes, but accept the same was true of Ali and allow her to give. On that she was most insistent, and as she said, as she "owned" me, I had no choice but to receive. I began to realise the difference between sex and making love. Ali was sometimes amazed at my gratitude, but welcomed it.

Two weeks before the event, the publishers got in touch with me. The publicity person was new, but knew I had worked there. She was, she said, "reaching out at Milly's request". That allowed me to ask whether Ruth was also "reaching out"?

"Well, you must know how it is, Milly tends to make the running here, so yes, you can assume Ruth is okay with it. She never queries Milly's decisions."

That hardly sounded like the Ruth I had known, but time changes, and with it people.

"So what does Milly need?"

"She was wondering whether she could have a list of the questions in advance so she and Ruth could work on the answers to ensure the conversation flowed."

"I bet", I thought to myself, but did not say. Milly had clearly expected me to decline, and now, knowing the event would be recorded, wanted to be forewarned - and forearmed. I said that would be easy enough.

"Oh thanks, you are a star! Most professors refuse and want to go with the flow, but Milly, for some reason, insisted that if that was your view the event would have to be cancelled."

I explained that I quite understood, as indeed I did, much better than Sonia, the PR woman did. So I sent over the questions, which were duly approved.

Ali asked why I had agreed, and I explained that I had imagined Milly would have cancelled the event otherwise. She looked at me quizzically:

"Little Pixie, you have something up your sleeve, don't you?"

I giggled.

"This is a sleeveless dress, how can I?"

She gave my bum a slap.

"Very funny, but I can see the cogs working. Just remember they already have the questions."

"Yes", I said "but not the supplementaries!"

Ali was wonderful to me the weekend before the event. She knew that however confident I was trying to sound, I was nervous, so she made sure that Saturday was stress-free and that Sunday's sermon spoke to me.

The temptation was to try to do something to "get back" at Milly and Ruth, but the more I thought about it the less attractive the idea became. This was my professional world and I was not going to let my personal life into it, even if Milly had imagined I would.