Lamplight

"Shh, shh, it's okay, baby. It's okay. I'm here."

I coughed, gasped once.

She slowly started to run her hands up and down my back again.

"Sit down," she said, softly. "Sit, Cat. Sit, Honey. I'm not great with words. I never have been. But I'm great with touch. Let me touch you. Let me rub your shoulders and neck for you. Let me help what little bit I can. I'm so fucking sorry. Let me... make it up to..."

I turned, caught her hand in mine. "No," I pleaded, through the blurry mask of tears that hadn't quite fallen. "Please. I... I don't want you to feel like you have to apologise. Please. It's my wreckage, not yours. But... but if... if you want to rub my shoulders for me because... because I love it so much, then.... then I'd be okay with that. I'd like it, actually. It helps me. It calms me. Your touch always... calms me. It's sometimes the only thing that makes things... better... for me."

She let out a shuddering breath. "Okay. Okay, then..." she said. "So... sit... and let me do something nice for you and maybe ease those... memories... away for a little bit. Let me help you. Please, Cat?"

"Okay," I whispered.

She took my hand and squeezed it, and guided me to one of my two rickety kitchen chairs.

I sat, and tried not to think too much as she slowly tried to work the tension out of my neck and shoulders and jaw.

And slowly her usual magic took effect; slowly I relaxed. Slowly the shadows and their pain departed.

Slowly, by infinitesimal degrees, I became aware again of the way she'd lean in against me to transmit pressure through her fingers and palms.

The way she'd brush against me as she always did.

And now at last I knew why.

After all this time alone...

Somebody liked me.

Somebody wanted me.

Someone wanted me.

She felt me slumping slowly downwards.

She knew she'd won.

And so at some point she simply moved around in front of me and threw a leg over me and sat without ceremony on my lap.

"I'm not trying to belittle anything," she said as she frowned down at me. "And I'm not going to pressure you for anything else. Anything else you tell me needs to be when you're ready. I can't bear hurting you like that again."

I drew breath to apologise; she somehow knew.

So she touched a gentle finger to my lips. "No apologies. No regrets. Take them as unnecessary when you're dealing with me. I'm sorry for mentioning anything. It wasn't my place to do so."

She trailed her finger down; I unconsciously caught it with my lips, kissing it, squirming slightly under her weight.

She stared down at me from within her backlit halo of hair.

"Cat?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"I'll understand completely if you want a rain-check..."

"No!" I gasped, frantic that she not misunderstand me. "No. Oh God, no, please, please, no, please don't leave..."

She stared down at me, perplexed.

"Oh Cat. Breathe. Just breathe. I wasn't going to leave."

I moaned, snatched another breath, closing my eyes as she put her hands to my shoulders and pressed slowly down.

"I was just offering you a soft and easy escape from what I'm otherwise going to do next."

"What... what are you going to do next?" I whispered.

She waited for me to look up at her.

"This, babe," she whispered.

She put her hands to the hem of her plain white tee shirt and slowly pulled it up and off her. Then she reached behind herself and unclipped her bra. One followed the other into a corner.

I stared up at her, then down at her small, gorgeous breasts, then back up at her.

"Oh, God," I whimpered.

"You can look at them," she said. "You can touch them, kiss them, suck them, do what you like, whatever you need to - to them and me. If you just want to be held, I'll do that. If you want to... to have me, I'll do that too. Sex and cuddles are good for pain. I'm here if you want to try that. But no pressure, okay?"

"Can I... kiss you?" I whispered, almost too scared to hope for any such luck.

"But Cat," she said, with a wistful little smile, "You know very well that I don't kiss on first dates."

"First dates..." I mumbled, confused by her emphasis.

"First of a very great many, I think," she whispered. "If you want. I know I do."

"I do want..." I managed.

She leaned forward, and her lips were just as soft as I remembered. I moaned, clutching her to me as she squirmed against me. She broke free, panting.

"I don't do anything on first dates, but for you," she gasped, "Oh, for you... all my rules are suspended. Oh my God, Cat, you kiss well."

She came back for more. She lifted my hands to her breasts, laughing softly at the moan I let out as I felt her warm, soft skin under my fingers.

I felt her fumbling at my blouse; I sat up so she would have more freedom. She undid the buttons; folded the fabric back, pawed at the clasp of my plain and serviceable bra before tripping it and freeing me.

"Ahh," she groaned, deep in her throat. "Oh, oh those are nice."

"Mm..." I agreed as I clutched her to me, loving the sensation of her hard little nipples against my skin.

Then I gasped as she forced her hand down between her leg and the bunched-up fabric of my skirt.

I stared up at her as she found my crotch with her fingertips.

"Not... even a... please..." I moaned.

"From the way you're writhing and moaning at me you didn't... feel like you needed... one...." she panted. "Also, I think that giving you choices right now would be... counterproductive..."

"Just... touch me already, " I begged her. "Just... make me forget..."

I slumped backwards, trying to open myself for her.

I whimpered as she wormed a finger under the thin fabric of my panties. She stroked me, delved between my lips, found my clit and gave a satisfied little groan at the shudder that rippled through me.

And time flowed away.

Pain and regrets set wing and flew off south for winter.

Her kisses lit torches in all my midnight places.

All that mattered now was the heat of her on me, the raw panting gasps of her breath and mine, the way she arched against me as she stroked me and ground against me and teased my entrance and drove me onwards and upwards as fast as I could ever remember it happening.

It couldn't have taken more than a minute or two; I was so keyed up and so confused and so deprived of touch...

And her touch was precisely what I needed.

"Julie," I sobbed. "I'm... please... you're going to make me..."

"Come, babe, come for me," she panted. "It's alright. It's alright. You can come. Let it out. Let it all out for me..."

She began to kiss my neck, my shoulder, the burning skin of my cheeks.

I felt my muscles tensing, my back arching involuntarily as it always did, the beads of sweat between my breasts and behind my ears and the salt of exertion on my upper lip and...

And then I cried out, arching up from the hard seat of my chair, stockinged feet skittering helplessly against the worn and battered tiles of my out-of-date kitchen.

She moaned against me; it took me a while to realise that she was whimpering my name over and over again in time with her own contractions...

And then she closed her arms around me and pulled herself against me and simply held me as I gasped and shook and spasmed on and against her and, quite literally, forgot how to breathe for a moment or two.

.:.

Her fingers traced a line slowly up and down the bare skin of my back, a complex path of what felt like whorls and spirals. She'd shed her jeans but kept her skin-tight briefs; I'd stripped bare.

I lay, head turned towards her, watching the chain of expressions that crossed her face one after another, quietly basking in the delight her touch brought my boneless body in its prostrate position on my section of my undersized bed.

"Julie?" I asked her, at last.

"Mm? Oh. Hello. I'm just... freewheeling," she said, with a little smile. "Hamster's resting."

I sighed and shifted even closer. "I always love watching your expressions and trying to work out what you're thinking."

"Mostly nonsense, really. Stupid stuff. Like... what would a red-headed sheep look like. Complete noise. I've always been that way."

"I like it," I said, softly. "My head's always full of... apprehension. I always feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Around you... I don't. It's... new. It's nice. I like it."

She smiled, leaned in, kissed my cheek. "You say the sweetest things after sex," she said softly.

"We haven't, strictly, had sex."

"Well, one of us hasn't," she said, eyes twinkling.

"Was that a hint?"

"Maaaaybe," she drawled. She rolled onto her side, and then further over onto her back. "If only a poor, desperate, deprived little girl could find somebody she could persuade..."

I stopped her words with a kiss; she writhed slightly under me.

"That's not fair," she whispered, when she could. "I had a whole speech planned."

"Oh, did you? Oh no. How sad."

"You've got claws," she said softly. She grinned.

"Just nails," I countered, as I slowly trailed them down over her stomach to the waistband of her briefs. She moaned; her stomach muscles tensed and relaxed several times.

Then I gently slipped a finger under her underwear and held it there, pressing gently on her lower belly.

"I'm taking these off now, Julie."

"Oh all right," she sighed long-sufferingly. She lifted her bum and helped me slide them down her legs with a wonderful lack of ceremony. "There. Happy?"

I lifted myself on my elbow and stared down at her.

"Oh. Oh my, yes..."

She was shaven scrupulously bare, and her lips were pink and visibly glistening.

"Can I... touch you?" I said, suddenly hesitant.

"Oh, Cat..."

She fumbled for and found my hand and put it to her. She let out a shivery moan as I slowly parted her.

"You simply have no idea how many nights I've gone to sleep wanting this," she breathed. She opened her legs further, hooking one calf over me. "Just be really, really slow," she said, catching my hand to restrain and guide me. "Just... like this... slow and gentle. Or I'll go off like a bomb and that will be it - I'll be far too sensitive for more. And I want more... oh... oh, that's nice, Cat... just there..."

She was absolutely ready - hot, slippery and perfect.

"You're so smooth..." I whispered.

"Shave... uhn... every few days. Without... uh... fail..."

"It's... nice. It's... really hot," I breathed as I stared down at her. I watched the way the skin of her lips eased and glided around my thin fingertip. A bead of moisture stretched to a strand, then snapped.

A shiver rippled through her belly and hips; I made a soft noise as I felt her entrance contract slightly against me.

"God, it's so hot... being able to see you like this... feel you like this. I've... you're the first I've ever been with who was... bare like this, so I could see everything. It's so nice..."

"Just wait till you find out... mm... how nice it makes... oral..." she whimpered.

"Oh. Oh God, yes... " I moaned, pressing myself in closer to her as she shuddered again.

"Careful... or I'll... uhn... shave you too..." she panted. "Cat?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss..." she begged, flailing at my arm and catching and pulling.

But as I rolled half onto her to do just that she wailed and arched up hard from the bed; her moans muffled by my lips, her pussy spasming hard and fast against my questing finger.

She writhed free, crying out softly, and dug her nails into my back.

I lay on her, loving the scent of her and the quiet almost mewling little pants she took to try to regain her breath.

"Oh. Oh fuck me," she panted. "Oh fuck me, I've got such a hair trigger with you. Oh, oh, I've waited so long for that. Oh, fuck me..."

I stared down at her, then in a strange fit of freedom I took her at her literal word. I slowly pushed my finger into her tight, hot body - watching her expression morph from slack featured post-orgasm relaxation to full-on-confused frown, jaw locked open, staring up at me wide-eyed as if I'd done something she'd never quite expected.

"Cat?" she whispered, puzzled.

I slowly began to move my finger in and out of her. She let out a long, almost agonized wail as she clamped her legs together on my hand.

"Cat..." she begged, patting my arm with a out-of-tempo staccato beat.

But I ignored her and increased the tempo.

"Oh... oh... mm... my...." she moaned. She dug her nails hard into my arm and took a pained gasp for air.

And I added my second finger to her without even a by-your-leave.

She convulsed again, cried out, belly spasming again and again against me. She kicked out with her legs, flailing, catching my ankle with her heel.

I yelped, wincing at the throbbing in my foot.

She somehow managed to trap my hand in her and curled up against me, arm locked between her spasming thighs, hot little desperate gasps of breath stirring my own locks as I watched her in heart-thumping awe.

She made a weird noise, almost a sob, and I leaned in close.

"Julie? Are you okay?"

"No," she whined. "Not at all. You're... Cat... you're not allowed to do that without warning me. You've got to. Got to warn me first. You'll kill me. Oh my God, Cat, that was intense. Slowly. Take your fingers out slowly or I'm... oh... oh fuck me oh fuck oh fuck..."

And she convulsed against me again, crying out, jerking violently in against me.

"Cat," she begged, "please, it's too much, it's too much, please..."

So I slowly eased out of her; she reached shakily out, got her arm around me, and pulled herself in against me.

I kissed her forehead and tucked my face in against her, closing my eyes to better capture the scent of her.

And then I squeezed her her tightly to me as I heard her sniff just once.

"Julie?" I asked, concerned.

"How are you so good at this?" she whispered, in a weak and trembling voice. "How do you make me feel like this? How do you make me come just by... touching me..."

"Six months of foreplay," I muttered, blushing.

And she laughed, then cried a bit, then laughed again.

.:.

"Do you take sugar and milk?" I asked, softly.

"Mm," she agreed.

She smiled up at me from my small kitchen table; I'd wrapped my threadbare dressing gown around her to keep the chill off her, and had pulled on an old stretched stripy navy and white jumper that covered me from shoulder to just past my bum.

"Sugar? Milk?" I asked again.

"One and some, please," she said. She slumped forward again onto the table and pillowed her head on her arms.

"You finished me off," she added. "Cat, nobody's ever done this for me before. Holy moly. My legs are still shaking. You deserve a star."

"Five Star First Date Lay," I muttered. "A-plus-plus would shag again."

She laughed softly. "That sounds precisely like how I would review you."

I put her cup down in front of her, and sat down opposite her. She grinned sleepily.

"I didn't expect to be this zonked this early. I thought we'd maybe flirt a bit, walk a bit, talk a bit, then... maybe... a sexual-tension-charged hug goodnight under a romantic street light before we parted ways. Followed by some awkward eye contact and more flirting next time we saw one another."

"I prefer this outcome," I confessed. "So much in my life is unclear. I like this clarity. I like... knowing that you wanted me..."

"Wanted?" she said, softly. "Oh, Cat, there's nothing past tense going on here. Do you think I was joking about wanting more dates?"

She lifted her head, then sat up, blessing me with a weird little grin.

"I wasn't. I'm not... I'm not a casual lover, Cat. That's why I have such strict rules - it's to protect me from giving myself where I won't be appreciated. I've never had such a nice evening with someone before. It's never been this easy or this good. You're the only one I've ever broken my rules for since I made them."

"I'm... glad..." I whispered. "I... there are so many times I wanted to... to say something to you. I was always too scared."

"I get that. And I understand. It's hard asking someone out. Especially when... you're not sure if they're interested. Why do you think I left it to you?"

She waited for me to meet her gaze.

I eyed her grin.

"You look far too smug," I said.

"I'm allowed," she declared. "I've been fucked silly. It's permitted."

"So... um..."

"So, long story short, I'm absolutely besotted with you, Cat. I'd like to see much more of you. Is that something you feel you could... commit to? With me?"

The answer was, for once, easy.

"Oh... oh I'd like that so much."

She smiled a tired little smile and reached out to clasp my hand. "Good. That makes me very happy. Now... I'm going to drink this delicious tea you made me, and then I'm going to go to bed with you and hold you all night."

"Don't I get a say in that?"

"No," she said. She smirked. "You don't."

"Oh," I said. "Okay, then."

And she drank her tea, and dragged me back to my bed as she'd said she would.

And held me all night.

.:.

Someone kissed me.

I made a pleased noise.

Someone's hand was down between my legs.

Slender, slick fingers were gently probing and stroking me.

It was nice.

This was a nice dream.

My dreams were mostly erotic these days.

Ever since Julie had arrived at the Salon, in fact.

"Julie," I whispered sleepily, tasting the sound of her name as I so loved to do, not ready to wake just yet.

"Yeah, babe?" someone breathed.

My eyes flicked open in shock.

I gasped a desperate breath, struggled slightly... then relaxed as I realised it was just her, and that I was home.

She smiled down at me in the half-light.

"Hello there, sleepyhead," she breathed. "Forget I was here, did you?"

"Hi..." I began, then I squeaked as she leaned in to kiss me.

"Sorry, but... I took some liberties when I woke up, and you were... well... so... so I was naughty..."

Her finger teased gently around the base of my already-hypersensitive clit. I shuddered once, flailed backwards, caught her wrist where it nestled between my thighs.

"Oh..." she said, disappointed. "Shall I stop?"

"No!" I gasped. "No, it's... it's so nice... just... just let me..."

And I rolled onto my back and opened myself for her; she let out a throaty moan and shifted in close again.

"Alright then, babe," she breathed. "I guess you've earned that then...."

"You're... terrible..." I panted. "I'm... oh... oh, yes, in me, oh, right there, right there..."

"I love your pussy, Cat," she said in a shivery little voice. "You're so hot and perfect on my finger. I loved that you were wet when I woke up. I missed out on this last night and was hoping I'd... oh, oh, yeah, you like that don't you..." she added as she curled her fingertip over.

I panted something, began to pinch and pull at my nipples. Julie laughed deep in her throat and bent down to nibble at my neck. "I love how physical you are," she whispered. "I think, Cat..."

"Uh... huh..."

"I think... that I am going to thoroughly enjoy making you mine..."

"Please... please... I'm so... so close..."

"Ask me nicely..." she whispered.

"Please..." I wailed.

"Brace yourself, babe," she said, and before I could even properly process the words she began to drive her hand hard and deep and fast into me.

It took mere seconds.

The pre-waking dreams (and her sneaky little exploration) had clearly done their job well - I'd been keyed up well into my plateau before waking; and her presence was the catalyst for the most intense orgasm I could ever remember.

She laughed, exultant, as I bucked and writhed and groaned against her warm, firm, lovely body...

And afterwards, she simply held me and kissed me, humming some little nonsense tune as she kept me close.

"So," she said, when I'd recovered the ability to speak. "As much as I want to spend all day in bed with you... I need to get going. The Salon opens at seven."