Rediscovering Old Friends Ch. 02

The next morning, the house was already full of activity by the time Melissa woke up. She lay in bed for a while, listening to the sound of kids running up and down the hallway outside her room and reveling in the knowledge that the occasional shouts and *whack* of pillow against sibling were not her responsibility.

She heard Kirsten call out to her husband and closed her eyes, blocking out the other voices and letting her mind drift back to the evening before. Her breathing slowed, one hand strayed to her breast and stroked it, circling her nipple, while the other drifted downward, stopping just as her fingers grazed her clitoral hood. She licked her lips and thought she could still taste Kirsten on them.

They'd met a few years ago now, at a meetup for expat women; but because of circumstances - just life, mostly - they'd only actually seen each other a few times. Mostly they'd chatted by text. Somehow, chat about hairdressers had slipped into more personal topics.

The last time they'd met was only a few days before Kirsten had left, and Melissa had thought she'd felt something between them that hadn't been there before. An extra touch, a slightly too-long greeting hug, a spark that she maybe imagined, or maybe not. She'd decided to ignore it - everything she knew about Kirsten convinced her she was wrong. And anyway, Kirsten was leaving, so why risk ruining a friendship?

They'd continued texting, sometimes drifting apart, but sometimes skirting the edge of flirting. Still, Melissa was never quite sure if she was reading too much into it. This trip had felt like the perfect opportunity to find out.

And now, it seemed like she was right. She let her mind drift and imagined how it would feel to have Kirsten's hands explore her body.

A chorus of young voices broke through her reverie with the cry of, "Pancakes are ready!" Her eyes sprang open, and she snapped out of the mood moments before a small fist started hammering on her door. "Are you awake?" Followed by heavier footsteps approaching, then giggles as the child was scooped up by his father and carried away.

Melissa jumped out of bed, grabbed clean underwear from her suitcase and threw on her jeans and T-shirt from yesterday; then quickly crossed the hall into the bathroom. When she was done, she took a breath and opened the door and walked into the chaos of a family pancake breakfast.

The buzz of the family surrounded her and drew her in, kids squabbling and piling plates high with pancake toppings they wouldn't be able to finish.

All the while she noticed the glances between Kirsten and her husband - somehow fiery and soft all at once; reaching out to each other across the room - and could almost see the air crackle between them when they passed close by each other as they ferried breakfast things between kitchen and table. The tiny touches: fingers grazing while passing a bottle of syrup, a hand outstretched to brush a shoulder as Kirsten stands to get a cloth to clean up a spill.

These things sharpened in her focus and everything else faded to a background hum of noise and a blur of muted colors. Plates were emptied, the table cleared, and the kids vanished out the door into the sunny backyard. All pale against the sparkles flashing between Kirsten and her husband.

"More coffee?"

"Hmm?" Melissa shook her head to bring her mind back to the table, looked down at her almost empty plate, and into her empty coffee cup. "Ah, yeah, thanks. I don't think the first one did the job properly."

She glanced up at Kirsten's husband's twinkling smile and felt herself blush as she recalled the image of him standing behind her in the shadows, last night. He took her cup and headed to the kitchen as Kirsten returned from clearing the last of the condiments.

"Come into the living room and we'll plan out the day," said Kirsten, slightly too brightly, but not meeting Melissa's eyes.

"I'll bring the coffee in there!" Kirsten's husband called out from the kitchen.

Melissa shoved the last of her pancake into her mouth and made to pick up her plate, but Kirsten stopped her.

"Leave it, he'll deal with it. He needs something to keep him busy;" this last said loudly and in the direction of the kitchen, from where came a hearty and ever-so-slightly sarcastic fake guffaw in reply. Kirsten laughed quietly and walked through to the living room without waiting for Melissa to follow.

Two steps behind, Melissa noticed Kirsten begin to sit on the couch, but straighten again at the last moment, and continue to the only armchair in the room.

Melissa followed Kirsten's lead and avoided the couch, instead perching herself on the arm.

She glanced at the spot where Kirsten had lain last night, and smiled at the warmth building up again in her pussy. She closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the memory. She opened them and met Kirsten's gaze.

Kirsten blushed, looked away, shook herself as if shaking the memory off.

A freeze washed over Melissa and she realized that Kirsten hadn't met her eyes all morning - in fact, she'd barely acknowledged her at all, until just now. Maybe she should just avoid the awkwardness and go to a hotel for the rest of her time here?

"Right. When do you need to be at the airport?" Kirsten asked.

Melissa swallowed. Did Kirsten really feel that weird about what happened? "Oh, you mean to pick up the others," she gasped with relief.

Melissa pulled out her phone to check the flight details. "Yes, of course. What did you think I meant?" She laughed, but it sounded forced.

"The flight gets in at four fifteen. They'll have at least one bag checked. So... maybe half past?"

Kirsten's husband brought in the coffee and handed one to each woman. He did a slight double-take at the seating arrangements.

"The couch is more comfortable on the seat part," he joked to Melissa before sitting on the comfortable part, at the far end from her. "So, what's the plan?"

He looked enthusiastically from one to the other as he awaited a reply.

Eventually, they figured it all out: an easy day out with the kids for Melissa and Kirsten, then home; and someone would drive Melissa out to the airport for her family and pick up dinner for everyone on the way home.

The day went as those kinds of days often do - constant requests for snacks and drinks and someone hitting someone else and "where did you leave your shoes?"

The only unusual thing was the energy between the two women.

One moment, Melissa felt like Kirsten was standing unnecessarily - but not unpleasantly - close; the next, she was on the other side of the playground and avoiding eye contact. At moments when their eyes did meet, there was something; Melissa felt the memory of the burning need, and saw it reflected in Kirsten's face in the moment before she looked away, seeming almost embarrassed.

Conversation about anything not immediately relevant was awkward, as if they were strangers. Unasked questions hovered in the air between them.

In the car on the way home, Kirsten rested her hand on the gear selector, tantalizingly close to Melissa's thigh. Melissa could feel the warmth of it radiating through her shorts, and it kept her mind occupied as they drove.

"We're cutting it close, to get you to the airport on time," Kirsten said when they were halfway home. "Will you need anything from inside? I'll call now and get him to be ready to leave. He's better than me at getting there quickly!"

"No, I think I've got everything. Just need my phone, really, and I've already got that."

Kirsten was already tapping the car's screen to call her husband. He answered and agreed to be waiting outside, and Kirsten hung up just a few moments before they pulled up outside the house.

The moment the car stopped, the kids jumped out to ambush their dad as he approached.

Kirsten's hand was on the handle of the slightly open door, when she turned suddenly to Melissa, whose throat closed at the look on her friend's face. "Last night. I ... I drank too much. Sorry." The last word was mumbled as Kirsten turned away.

"Okay." There didn't seem to be anything else to say and it went unheard, anyway, as Kirsten was already halfway out of the car. Melissa wasn't even sure if the word had actually left her lips. She watched Kirsten greet her husband with a hug, peel the kids off him and race them into the house.

He climbed into the driver's seat and got himself settled; Melissa was still watching Kirsten as she stopped on the doorstep, glanced back at the car but turned back to the house before their eyes met. She disappeared into the house and the door closing behind her felt like the final word on the fantasy Melissa had enjoyed entertaining.

The drive was uncomfortable.

Melissa had always felt at ease with Kirsten's husband. They'd never really spoken much, but he always seemed to be in a good mood and friendly, almost flirty, in a good way. He'd felt like a friend within a few moments of their first meeting. But now she just felt exposed, remembering his role in the night before, the night that now seemed like a mistake.

Had he told Kirsten what he'd seen? Or had she told him what had happened?

Melissa had misread the whole situation, and now she wasn't sure what kind of damage she might have caused - both between them, and in her friendship with Kirsten. She sat staring out the window, ignoring his light-hearted attempts at conversation. Instead, she tried to put this feeling behind her and focus on seeing her own husband and kids.

It had been almost a week since she'd said goodbye to them all, at a different airport, far away. From the pictures she'd seen it seemed like they'd all had a great time without her. This trip - a few days of work with the added bonus of finally visiting Kirsten - had been her first time away from the family since the kids were born.

She had missed them, of course she had; but she also wasn't sure she was quite ready to drop back into the role of "Mum". Especially right now.

As the airport road signs got more frequent, she decided she only had one option: to forget about the night before, pretend it had never happened; ignore any feelings she'd had about Kirsten. That was done now.

"Almost there. Which terminal we headed for?"

Melissa snapped back to reality and squirmed in her seat to extract her phone from her pocket. She noticed a glance from the driver's seat. He was definitely watching her arse move. She would ignore that.

"Three, I think. Same as where I came in," she said. Checking her phone, she corrected herself, "Oh, no. Terminal 2." Her phone dinged with a new message:

Landed and got one bag. This is fast! Waiting for one more. See you soon! Kids are excited.

By the time they were inside the airport complex another message arrived, saying they'd got the last bag and were through the final doors and would wait outside.

Kirsten's husband drove slowly along the pickup area while Melissa kept look-out. Then she saw them - the kids running slightly wild while her exhausted and flustered husband struggled to wrangle them and keep them away from the road. The car stopped; he noticed her before the kids did.

Melissa opened the door, only to be swamped by her children, each one immediately trying to climb onto her and tell her in detail about every moment she'd missed while she was away.

The men grunted at each other and loaded the bags into the car. Melissa eventually shepherded the kids into seats and buckled them in. Finally, everything and everyone else was in, and she could finally greet her husband.

He wrapped his arms around her, and her head rested perfectly on his chest, right where it always did. He kissed the top of her head, and for a moment she forgot about the tension they were about to return to.

Then they climbed into the car - Melissa squeezing herself into the back between child seats - and she remembered to do the introductions.

"Mark, you remember Dan?"

Kirsten's husband held out his hand and Mark took it in a clumsy handshake, trying to put his seatbelt on at the same time and almost failing to do both.

The kids fell asleep almost as soon as the car started; the men exchanged small talk and Melissa passed the drive home by trying to think of anything but Kirsten. With just a quick stop to pick up the takeaways Kirsten had ordered, they were home in no time.

Finally, dinner was finished. Melissa's kids had seamlessly joined in the fun with the 'home team,' and now she was waiting in the dark for the last of their eyes to close.

After what felt like forever, she was sure they were all asleep. She slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, glad to be able to take the "Mum" hat off again, if only until the morning.

The door opposite swished open and Kirsten stepped out, her actions mirroring Melissa's.

"Come on," she whispered, "Let's go watch something". She smiled at Melissa and reached out, gently taking her arm just above the elbow and leading her towards their husbands, waiting in the living room.

Melissa's earlier resolve to put it all out of her mind disintegrated more with each step as Kirsten's hand slipped from Melissa's arm and she walked close enough that their shoulders brushed, her hand grazing Melissa's back and breathing hope into the smoldering embers in her belly.

The guys were already deep into a discussion about what to watch, Dan in the armchair and Mark at the opposite end of the couch. Drinks and snacks were ready on the coffee table.

The girls sat, Melissa next to her husband, with Kirsten on the other side.

"So, what's on?" Kirsten asked, taking her wine and handing one to Melissa.

Dan and Mark exchanged glances and apparently came to an unspoken conclusion. Dan clicked "Play" and the Netflix logo appeared.

As Kirsten settled herself back deeper into the seat, she ended up slightly closer to Melissa, their thighs almost touching.

Melissa tried not to think too much of it, remembering Kirsten's words in the car. Her closeness couldn't be deliberate. Could it?

The show started and Melissa tried to focus on it. She could ignore the banter between Kirsten and Dan - mostly Kirsten asking what happened and Dan teasing her about not paying attention - but the occasional touch of Kirsten's leg on hers made concentration almost impossible. The bare skin on skin took her breath away each time; and with each touch the embers grew warmer.

It was a squeeze on the couch; it had to be accidental. Surely?

On her other side, Mark's head was slowly drooping, and eventually he flopped onto the arm of the couch, obviously shattered by the long journey with the kids.

"Looks like he's done for the evening," said Dan.

"I'm not surprised - I should get him into bed. He must be exhausted!" said Melissa, silently wishing that she could just stay where she was for a little while longer. She was sure it didn't mean anything, but she was enjoying the closeness of Kirsten next to her, and the fire that was building up again inside her; and didn't want to give it up, just yet.

"No, leave him there, for now. He looks so peaceful." Kirsten reached in front of Melissa and gently touched Mark's shoulder. "But I'll help you take him to the bedroom, if you need."

Melissa looked at Dan and saw his expression - slightly surprised, but not in the least upset about seeing his wife tenderly touch another man. She looked down and noticed she had a perfect view of the soft curve of Kirsten's breast disappearing into her low-cut top. Which Melissa now realized she must've changed into at some point after dinner.

As Kirsten straightened up, she put her hand on Melissa's thigh, for leverage, and Melissa got a trace of her scent, mixed with a hint of sweat from the long day; and somehow, a little bit of the sunshine. She breathed it in and closed her eyes. She couldn't stop herself putting her hand on top of Kirsten's, keeping it where it was for as long as she could, at least for now.

The warmth in her belly spread down to her pussy. She glanced again at Dan, who by now had a small smile glued on his face but was fixedly staring at the TV. She looked back at Kirsten and their eyes met; Melissa took her hand away.

Kirsten's stayed right where it was, only her thumb gently moving, stroking, stoking the fire inside Melissa.

Without thinking, Melissa lifted her hand to Kirsten's hair, moving stray strands away from her face.

Kirsten reached up and cupped Melissa's cheek in her hand.

A movement from Mark broke the moment; both women jumped apart in surprise.

Mark muttered something in his sleep and Dan let out a quiet laugh.

Melissa looked slightly resentfully at her sleeping husband. "I really should get him off to bed," she said.

"I'll help you," said Kirsten, her voice slightly breathless. Dan giggled quietly at the almost double-entendre, and Kirsten flashed him 'A Look'.

"What?" He asked, in mock defense. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure Melissa can handle her husband by herself."

"I'm sure she can, but it'll be easier with another pair of hands," Kirsten shot back.

Dan closed his mouth, but his eyes didn't lose the smile.

Together Melissa and Kirsten got the still-sleepy Mark upright and supported him down the corridor to the guest room. They got him into the room and lowered him onto the bed.

Kirsten turned to leave. "Goodnight," she said.

Melissa didn't reply but closed the distance between them and pulled Kirsten into a close hug, stroking her hair, again. She was surprised how much she enjoyed doing that.

"Goodnight," Melissa whispered into Kirsten's ear, once again breathing her in.

"Melissa," she felt warm breath close to her own ear, "I haven't had anything to drink, tonight." The fire that had been smoldering sparked into life in Melissa's pussy.

Kirsten kissed her, lightly, barely touching her lips, and ran her hands slowly down Melissa's back, all the way down and over her arse cheeks, pulling her in even closer, her fingers so close to the flame and straining to get closer.

Melissa closed her eyes for a moment; when she opened them again, Kirsten was gone, and the door clicked shut behind her.

**********

With big thanks to younghrted2 for editing.