Just June (and Pixie too) Ch. 03

Each morning, on waking, Pixie would text June. There was so much she wanted to say, but she knew how busy June was, and as June knew Pixie's more predictable timetable, she left it up to her to choose a time to phone. That meant that the calls came whenever June could find a moment; but Pixie was always there for her then. It felt like a lifeline.

Pixie was hugely impressed with Anna, and made a mental note to have a word with June about promoting her. The business was going well, and could afford the extra cost. June usually covered the early shift for Pixie on Tuesdays to allow her to go to Morning Prayer, but she had not liked to ask Anna and was, therefore, favourably impressed when the latter volunteered to come in early.

"I know that June usually does that shift for you - I'm happy to step in as part of covering for her. How's she getting on?"

Pixie shared a few more photos which June had sent.

"Oh Pixie, she is going to be a huge success, can't you just feel it?"

Pixie was delighted and agreed happily.

Usually Morning Prayer was one of Pixie's spiritual highlights of the week. She found the old Book of Common Prayer service just what she needed. She had nothing against services in more modern language, but could never quite shed herself of the view that she did not want to talk to God in the same language she would use to a customer.

As the service was at eight, attendance was usually a select few - Pixie being the youngest by about thirty years. Pixie loved the silence, the Cranmerian cadences of the language, and it usually allowed her the space her spirit needed.

All went as usual, until she was leaving.

The new Vicar continued the practice of the old one in shaking hands with everyone as they left. When it came to Pixie the shake was rather limp.

"I wonder, Miss Hoffmann whether we might have a word, if you have time for a coffee?"

June, who was always up for calling a spade a spade, if not a shovel, would sometimes chide Pixie for being too polite by half.

"Darling, people take advantage of you, you must know that?"

"Oh, darling," she would say in reply, "it's just good manners."

That being the case, although the last thing she wanted was to have coffee with the new vicar, Pixie accepted the invitation.

"If you are not too busy," she said, "why not have one on me at the Artworks Café?"

"Thank you, I have heard the coffee is good - you own it do you not?"

"I do, and I run it with my partner, June, but she's away at the moment."

You did not have to be as sensitive to nuance as Pixie to feel the new Vicar's lukewarm response to June's name, but she let it pass.

Arriving at the café, Pixie was delighted to see it was buzzing, even at nine o'clock. Anna said a cheerful hello, and offered to bring coffee and croissants over to Pixie and her companion.

"So," Pixie said, "what can I do for you?"

"I'm James, by the way," the Vicar said, "is it okay to call you Pixie?"

"It is, James. Would I be way off beam to guess that we may need to chat about June and myself?"

Polite, Pixie certainly was, gullible she was not. Best, she reasoned, to bring up the subject herself. She saw, instantly, that she had put James at a disadvantage.

"It is not an easy topic, Pixie, but I should be failing in my duty as a Minister of the Church if I were to let it pass."

He was clearly expecting Pixie to say something. Instead, she thanked Anna for bringing the breakfast, and took a sip of cappuccino. Silence could be a useful weapon, even if it was not one which came naturally to someone as chatty as Pixie.

"You know what the Bible says about same sex relationships Pixie. They are, as the Catholic Church puts it, "intrinsically disordered."

"You have, of course, banned post-op transwomen from Church?"

Whatever James had been expecting, it was not this.

"Why?"

"To quote Deuteronomy 23:1: 'No one whose testicles are crushed or whose male organ is cut off shall enter the assembly of the Lord,' so you will be telling them that?"

James looked disconcerted.

"Well, as you know, Pixie, some of the ordinances in Deuteronomy have been discarded in the new order - so we would not suggest that wool and linen should not be used in the same dress."

"That's a relief," Pixie grinned. "Correct me James, but I can recall only one direct comment in the New Testament about lesbians, and that is Romans 1:26-27, 'For this reason God gave them up to dishonourable passions. For their women exchanged natural relations for those that are contrary to nature; and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error.' Am I wrong?"

"Well, there are many more about homosexuality."

"Correct me, James, but are not all of those about men?"

Pixie loved the look on his face.

"Yes, but they apply to women too."

"In which case, why in Romans does Paul talk about lesbians separately?"

This, Pixie thought, is not going the way he thought it would,

"And while we are at it, I am assuming that all divorced couples are banned from church? Did Jesus not say: 'I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another woman commits adultery," or am I wrong?"

"No, no, you are correct, but as you know, our church has taken a more humane view on this."

"I do. So my question to you is simple. If we take a more humane view of something Jesus himself banned, why are you not prepared to take that view on lesbian relationships, which are mentioned just the once, in passing?"

"Pixie, it is clear. Such relationships are unnatural!"

"Says who?"

"Says nature, Pixie."

Pixie fixed him with her sweetest smile. She could see Anna watching from the counter.

"Not once, James, have I ever felt 'naturally' inclined to even kiss a man. My nature is such that I love other women. So tell me, James, was it God who made the mistake of equipping me with this nature?"

"There are always unfortunate exceptions. Anyway, Pixie, if you have never been with a man, how do you know you would not like it?"

"James, I am surprised that you are equating sex with love? For June and I, our sex life is part of the continuum of our love. God is love. I feel his love. What I do not feel, James, is that you have thought this through very thoroughly. Would you like another coffee?"

The bathos at the end seemed to unnerve the new Vicar.

"Yes, yes please. Pixie, I am only trying to be helpful."

"According to your lights, James. But you must know that in Wales, our church already allows gay marriages."

"Something of which many of us disapprove."

"Fair enough, but that is where we are. Let me ask you this James. You talk about 'natural inclinations,' did you ever come across a case of a man having sex with a fifteen-year-old who did not claim it was 'natural'?"

"Well, yes, but it is illegal."

"Agreed. But gay marriage is legal James, so if what is legal is your ground for approval, why do you not approve gay marriage?"

"It is unnatural."

"So I see. Natural is fine when it is legal. So why are my natural feelings for June, which are legal, not fine? Because of one single verse in Romans? Really James, is that the best you can go? You could have at least appealed to the universal tradition of the church."

"There is that, too," he responded, grasping a lifeline he ought to have known would be slippery.

"Well, that was the argument against women priests, and still is in some churches, and yet here we have a woman bishop whom, I presume, you obey, despite that stuff in Paul about women not teaching?"

"You know, Pixie, you are quite impossible!"

"So June tells me, so you have something in common!"

"But we never see her in Church?"

"Shall we just say, James, that the sort of views you have just been expressing would hardly tempt her, even if she was curious."

"So you would not give her up because God wanted you to?"

"Are you a father, James?"

"I have that honour."

"How many, boy or girl?"

"Two, one of each!"

"Ages?"

"Seven and nine."

Pixie grinned.

"I'd love to meet them. Why don't you or your wife bring them to one of the after-school classes?"

"That would be nice. But why did you ask."

"Well, say that your son did something wrong, would you stop loving him?"

"Of course not."

"Well nor does God. And if your only evidence that God disapproves of lesbians is one verse in Romans, well, were I you, I'd be rethinking."

James looked at her.

"You know, you're the first person I've talked to about this who did not react with hostility. You listened."

"Isn't that what we do, James, as Christians, listen?"

"Maybe we should do more - or maybe I should. Pixie, I'm sorry if I offended you."

"That's generous of you James, and I know you were only trying to help my immortal soul."

"Can we talk more soon?"

"We can."

"And here, please, the coffee is lovely."

"I hear that you make Rosaries, James."

"You hear right."

"Well, how would you like to give a workshop here one evening?"

"After what I said to you?"

"Especially after that!"

"So, darling," June said, when Pixie reported the chat later, "you mean you actually talked with him? I'd have told him to piss off with his prejudices."

"That's your way, darling," Pixie said, smiling, as she could just imagine June saying it. "But this way, who knows?"

"Sounds almost as exciting as my day darling."

"Now you HAVE to tell me all, darling."

"ALL?" June giggled, "that might be tedious, let me give you edited highlights."

June had been longing to talk to Pixie, not merely (but also) because it was the highlight of her day while she was absent, but because she loved to share her success with the woman who had believed in her from the start.

June told her about the first shoot. It had taken ages for the models to get ready.

"Mind you, hanging round in your undies with some gorgeous women is hard work, but someone has to do it," June joked, knowing Pixie would treat it as such.

As the first session had involved Spring outfits, it had provided June with plenty of opportunities to show off her best assets, and she'd been pleased with the resulting pictures, as Cara, one of the other new models had said: "you've got a great arse love, you must spend ages in the gym."

"That must have tickled you, darling," Pixie said, knowing June never had time for such things.

"It did, as did the look on her face when I said I found waitressing and helping you quite enough exercise for me."

June explained that of the other three models, Cara was the one who had been most friendly, though the other two were perfectly okay with her. The highlight of the day had been the underwear modelling.

"Oh, I see," Pix teased, "wandering about in sexy scanties with all tongues hanging out?"

"Oh, darling, it wasn't like that, it's hard work."

"Gotcha!" Pixie liked it when, as happened now and then, she managed to tease June successfully.

And the week went on in that vein, with texts between the lovers, and late-night chats enabling them to catch up. When June had left, it had seemed an age before they would see each other again, but sooner than either of them had thought, it was Friday, and June was texting that she'd be on the train that got in at eight o'clock.

Knowing that Pixie did not drive, it was with some surprise that June saw her on the platform waiting.

Pixie threw herself into June's arms.

"Did you think I could wait at home and miss a whole fifteen minutes with you, darling?"

"Glad you didn't," June said, when she got her breath back.

In the cab on the way back, Pixie cuddled up and whispered:

"I'm not wearing any knickers, darling!"

June whispered back:

"Slut!"

"Well," Pixie teased, "why would I? You'd only want them straight off."

No sooner were they through the front door, than they began to kiss, leaving a trail of discarded clothes (minus Pixie's knickers) all the way to their bedroom.

"Oh, darling, leave those on!" Pixie gasped as she saw June's new undies - a sexy set of black lace panties and push up bra. "Even by your standards! Oh, blow it," she said, "I need to see your breasts so let's have the bra off."

"Make your mind up," June joked, sighing as Pixie pushed her onto the bed and began to lick her nipples. "Geeze, Pix, I missed you and I missed this." She threw her head back and opened herself to her lover, wanting, as Pixie did, to seal their reunion in a physical way.

As Pixie's tongue slid along her lips, teasingly stopping short of her clit, June gripped her hair, but Pixie formed a tube with her tongue and thrust it into her wetness. As her nose touched June's clit, both women felt the same shiver.

"Yesssss!" June gaped loudly, her voice trailing off into one long sibilant.

As her tongue began to lap up June's essence, Pixie felt a fire burn within her. Sucking, drawing June into her, brought an intimacy like no other: the taste; the scent; the tingling; the knowing what she was doing to her lover.

Then, withdrawing her questing tongue in search of June's clit, Pixie slid three fingers into her wetness, stretching her open as a prelude to what she knew June loved most when she was in this mood.

The sensations as Pixie simultaneously began to lick her clit and open her up, pushed June into that zone of erotic joy where only their love could take her. Physical pleasure was something to which June was no stranger. She enjoyed sex with other women, but this, oh this, she knew and felt as Pixie's fist stretched her, this was beyond even the best physical pleasure. This was where their love and knowledge of each other brought in that extra dimension.

All the way home June had wanted her Pixie, wondered how it would be, wanted to avoid building up hopes, knowing Pix would be tired, wanted to avoid any anti-climax. Ah, she thought, as her climax approached, as ever, their love had taken over and organically provided what they needed.

Pixie felt June's ecstasy approach. As she twisted her fist and pushed in, wrist deep, the cries of passion told her all she needed. How was it, how could it be, that with June, the giving of pleasure was as important to her, if not more so, than what she received?

But even as such thoughts played in their minds, their lovemaking came to its climax as June pushed herself down and, gripping Pixie's wrist, came hard, soaking her, gasping, moaning, losing herself in their ecstasy, knowing that it had happened again.

And as June gushed, Pixie felt it, and it came to her, over her, took her by storm, and though all her attention was focussed on June, or perhaps because of that, she too came.

For some moments the two of them were as one. Together in the pleasure which their love had created and curated.

But even as June began to come round, Pixie had not finished. She could sense that her lover needed more, and so, moving her fist and pumping gently, she began to take June again.

"Nonoo, oh Pix, I, I, Ohhhhhhh!"

Whatever protests June might have been about to make vanished on the waves of the passion created by Pixie's fist. Always generous in her own lovemaking, June recognised what Pixie wanted, and folded her desires into it, lying back, letting her lover take control, luxuriating in the pleasures of their mutual passion.

June lay back and thought of Pixie.

Relishing the self-giving, Pixie responded in kind. There was, between them, no thought of self; self was given freely to the other; self would respond to self; their love took them where it would. It was, they both knew, special.

For Pixie, it was an aspect of that self-giving love which had in it something of the divine. She could not see that divide between lust and love which so much Christian theory described. In giving herself freely and without limit, she loved June. In return what she got was beyond anything she could have described; it was June's all. In their mutual self-giving came something bigger than either of them.

For June, it was what she had always wanted but hardly dared hope was there. The world of sex was, like the rest of the world, about give and take, and yet her life with Pixie was a continuum of giving - and then receiving more than she had given. That was why, however sexy women like Cara the model were, however much they might come on to her, June was Pixie's, even as Pixie was hers.

That thought began to trigger her.

"MINE!" Pixie said, as though reading her lover's mine.

"Your rough northern slut!" June moaned.

"What do you need, my slut?"

"You, I belong to you!"

"And I to you," Pixie declared as June lost all control, falling without any hesitation into a second powerful orgasm.

It was only when she felt June's spasms lessen that Pixie carefully extracted her fist, and, after licking June clean, slid up the bed.

"Welcome home, darling," she said, smiling, wet-faced.

"Thanks darling. I was going to do that to you."

"You did, if you did not notice."

"What, you came too? You little slut!"

"Your slut, darling. So, after all those gorgeous models, you still want your flat-chested midget?"

"Hey, you, don't go dissing my lover - or I won't spank you."

"Oooh," Pixie giggled, "that's a powerful incentive to behave."

"You are funny, my Pix."

"How so?"

"It's just you, you see and say things in such peculiar ways sometimes - more reasons why I love you."

"So," Pixie teased, "no longings for trysts with supermodels?"

"Geeze Pixie, let me get my phone and Google it. But if you mean did I fancy any of them, sure, in the sense they were gorgeous, but if you mean did I want to fuck any of them, no - at least not this week."

"I shall stop teasing," Pixie yielded, "you are so much better at it."

"Glad there's something I'm better at darling."

"Now who is deprecating their lover? You're brilliant."

"I'm just June," June replied.

"With Pixie too!"

They kissed, pulled up the duvet, and were not parted that night.