Silent Weeks Sequel Pt. 02

As lovely as it would have been to wake up on Saturday, in our same positions as when we fell asleep, that was not the case. However, since we were both sore, we didn't change positions as soon as we normally had, so, at least that's something.

I rolled over to find her facing me, but still asleep. I just stared at her, taking in the sight of her face, and watching every tiny change until she opened her eyes.

"Hey," I said quietly.

She smiled, rolled onto her back and stretched. Then she traversed the space between us and, somewhat clumsily, maneuvered herself on top of me, on her stomach, and laid her head on my shoulder, just as she had while in the back of the truck.

"Hey," she returned, sleepily.

I wrapped my arms around her for a moment, then let them fall aside until only my hands rested on her.

"I like laying on you," she mumbled.

"Good."

We remained still for a while more, until I was overcome by the urge to hug her again. It just felt so good, both physically and psychologically. Her torso expanded and contracted with her breathing. Her faint heartbeat thumping against my abdomen. The distinct greater pressure of her breasts on my stomach. Her belly pressing against my now expanding package.

I heard her let out some small, amused breaths of a laugh.

I took a moment to appreciate the situation.

I was clearly horny. She was right on it. She acknowledged it with good humor. And was making no effort to get away or discourage it.

I slid my hands down her body to discover the bottom of the shirt was bunched up around her waist. She had previously slept without panties on, and I was not focused on her hips when she climbed on top of me. Since we had been essentially motionless, I could not tell if there were panties against me or not.

We did not have a leg between each other's, as we'd had last night. My hands may have been mere inches away from totally naked ass. I could easily slide my hands down a bit further, find out, and then squeeze.

I could grip them. Spread them. Slide my fingers along her crack, and maybe tickle her anus. I could go further down, pushing between soft lips, into a moist heat. I could feel a moan of pleasure resonate through my chest.

I certainly would like to do that.

But that would mean raising my shoulders off the mattress enough to gain the distance to reach it. That would then mean contorting her body into an awkward position, even if it might be relatively slight.

I didn't want to do that to her. I didn't want to ruin this moment that I was loving so much, just as it was.

I moved my hands back up, hugged her again, and kissed her head. She returned a squeeze, and we waited a while more.

"I have to pee," she said.

"So will I, once I stop nudging your stomach."

She rolled off of me, back to her side of the bed, and swung her feet out to sit up. The covers were bunched up, so I was unable to see her hips, which prevented any possibility of catching a flash of her as she performed the amazing feat of simultaneously standing while pulling down the hem of the shirt. Had I not known any better, I might think it had been down the entire time.

She disappeared from view, and a moment later, I heard her water pouring... louder than expected.

She didn't shut the door.

I could jump up, right now, and get a peek at her sitting on the toilet. ... But I'm not. Dammit.

Again, the moment would be tainted if I did it that way. Cheapened. Forced.

Another time, then.

I got out of bed as I heard her finishing, A few seconds after the toilet flush, I entered, to see her standing at the sink, splashing water on her face.

I wedged in between her and the toilet; my back to her.

"No peeking," I said, as I whipped it out.

"You're not the boss of me," she replied.

I smiled and released the torrent.

She made no comment. I couldn't see her face, but I suspected she gave no outward indication of caring.

Finishing and repacking, I turned in time to see her drying her hands and exiting back to the bedroom. Probably going to take the opportunity to get dressed while I'm freshening up.

Yep.

She was mostly dressed when I entered.

Oh shit.

Black Rock Shooter, again.

Yes!

But why, I wondered.

The only difference was black Converse, instead of boots. Interesting. I wonder what she had planned... if anything.

I mean, as far as I knew, we had no plans for the day, but maybe she did.

She finished and stood meeting me as I carried clean pants out of the closet.

I stopped, confused, while she silently looked me in the eyes before eventually speaking.

"Swim trunks."

I raised an eyebrow. It was autumn, we were nowhere near a beach, and there were no recreational pools or water parks for many, many miles.

"Heated. Swimming pool."

So, I guess she had plans.

Okay, then.

She turned a half-second after I did. I went back into the closet and put on swimming trunks that I hadn't had reason to wear in a forgotten number of years, but they still fit. I wore them under my pants, and grabbed my equally unused beach towel, along with a pair of underwear. Just in case.

Each with a bag of clothes, we headed out.

Looks like I'm going to get to see the rest of that bikini.

To my surprise, we ended up out in the country, again. Well, given that I had no clue where we were going, to begin with, I suppose anywhere would have been to my surprise, but an additional surprise was that this property held a comparatively large, and very expensive looking, house.

Oh, my goodness. Is she secretly rich? Wouldn't that be something of a bonus?

She certainly didn't drive a car that would typically be associated with wealth. It was only a few steps up from a junker, quite frankly.

She punched in a number on the keypad, the iron double gates swung inward, and we proceeded up the drive.

"I'm a house-sitter for the owners. They spend the winter here. I'm not actually allowed to have guests, so, if they find out, I could be fired. Not that I suspect you will, but it would be bad if you broke anything or, you know, died here."

"Heh heh. If I feel a death coming on, I'll hurry to the street."

"Such a gentleman," she joked. "In return for keeping the place clean and not robbed, I get a bedroom, access to the kitchen, and limited access to the pool. I can use it once a month heated. Once a week, not heated. Plus I get paid so I can buy food and other necessities."

"Sounds pretty sweet."

"Very."

"Does this mean I get to see your bedroom, now?"

She offered a sarcastic gasp.

"Dear sir. You haven't even set foot in the house, and you're already wanting into my bedroom", she playfully mocked. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

"An angel in the streets, and an unexpectedly perverted angel in the sheets."

She just laughed.

She didn't deny it. Just sayin'.

Pulling around the side of the house revealed an extended portion that housed the pool, visible through a row of large windows.

I made the assumption that we, or at least I, would not be entering any other part of the house, at any point during my visit.

She let us in, turned on some lights, and I looked the place over.

It was not Olympic, but it was still a large pool. Stairs down one end and a diving board on the other. All in all, nothing too spectacular.

We set our bags on a table. I was about to take off my shirt when she stayed my hand.

She looked at me with a familiar stare that told me she had something in mind.

Time to let her do her thing.

She lowered to unlace and remove my boots, and then my socks. She then arose to lift my shirt off, and once again unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped my pants before pushing them down my legs, and having me step out of them. I was in only my swim trunks.

She arose again and stood motionless in front of me, staring me in the eyes. I quickly realized that it was my turn to undress her, and I was quite happy to do so.

My preference was to begin with the hoodie, so I started unzipping it slowly.

I found myself pausing to mentally prepare myself, which I found curious, until I realized that removing the hoodie would reveal a part of her that was new to me.

I've seen only the center of her, down to a point.

I was about to unveil her bellybutton.

This was kind of a big deal.

I glanced up at her face to see that outwardly stoic observation of my reactions.

Very well, then.

Without lowering my eyes, I lowered the zipper until it released itself completely.

I pushed the edges further out on her shoulders to widen the space, but I left the hoodie on her. I wanted the mental image of her exactly like this.

Converse, high socks, short shorts, bikini top, hood up, exposed, yet still partially hidden, and her bellybutton.

I may have given it quite the play-up, but it was actually a rather non-spectacular naval, in and of itself, but then, the sexiest ones tend to be, for it's not the naval itself, but it's relation to all that is around it. The naval may get a lot of focus, but it's just a focal point of a greater composition. Interdependent.

And hers was certainly a composition that I found beautiful.

I pushed her hood off for a variant mental image. But now what? So many variations to be had. I must do this in a proper order, so that I'm not having to redress her to any extent.

Shoes. I knelt and lifted her feet and removing her shoes.

Mental picture.

Socks next. One sock I pushed down and off.

Mental picture.

The next sock I peeled down and off.

Mental picture.

Shorts. I paused. This would be another new revelation in that, while I have seen her in panties, I have not seen her in a bikini bottom. Few would disagree that the panties are sexier, but this was still no small matter. It had its own importance.

Unbuttoned. Unzipped. Flaps spread to reveal the front of the bikini.

Mental image.

Roll the waist band down twice, revealing hips and the side ties.

Mental image.

Unroll them again, and push the shorts down to mid-thigh.

Mental image.

Drop them around her ankles.

Mental image.

Lift her feet out of them, and move the shorts aside.

Mental image.

Now, back to the hoodie. Off one shoulder, fully revealing one covered breast; perfectly encapsulated.

Mental image.

Off the other shoulder and down to her elbows.

Mental image.

And then remove it entirely, to fully appreciate her wearing only what I considered a perfect bikini.

Mental image.

I could feel a soft smile emerge on my face, and then I looked up to see one on hers as well.

Mental image.

She took my hand and led me to the edge of the pool, before releasing and diving over the side.

Mental image of dat ass.

I dove in after her. The water was certainly warm, and it felt soothing to my sore muscles.

I enjoyed being in water. Being submerged and effectively weightless. Being able to maneuver myself in three dimensions without dependency upon a hard surface. The closest feeling I could get to having the ability to fly.

I emerged, located her, and joined. She looked very attractive with wet hair slicked back straight.

"Let's play a game," she said. There was no need to wait for my response. "It's called Someday. We take turns saying something that we would like to do someday. If the other person wants to do it as well, then they give a kiss. If they have no opinion about it, but are happy to join, then they hug. If it's something that they are opposed to doing, then they bite. But you have to be careful, because anything you say, you're not allowed to do, today."

"Okay. Who goes first?"

"You do."

Heh heh. You sure about that?

"Someday, I want you to bite me," I said with a smug grin.

"Clever." She leaned in for a quick kiss. "Someday, I want to eat with you at a restaurant."

I kissed her. "Someday, I want to go to a beach with you.

She kissed. "Someday, I want to... lay naked on lush grass in the warm sun.

I kissed. "Someday, I want to..." I suddenly understood why she paused. I held her ribcage, and started thinking about all the things I wanted to do to her, right now. All the things that we still might do later, and I didn't want to lose those options. "I want to..." I moved closer, almost touching her lips with my own. "I want to know what you feel like deep inside."

Careful, man.

She kiss a few seconds longer than previously, then parted just enough to say, "I want to wake up naked next to you."

I kissed her. "I want you to leave this bikini on."

She moved in, as if to kiss, but her lips just rested lightly on mine. Her breathing changed, as if she was nervous, and then her mouth opened further.

I felt her teeth grazing my lower lip. She was hesitant, but then she bit only hard enough to tug.

"God dammit," she whispered with an exhale, still lightly clenching my lip.

My hands began a slow decent to the ties of her bikini bottom.

Her breathing became more erratic, causing her to release my lip. She dropped her face, bit into my chest, and let out a soft cry of frustration.

I halted my descent.

She began forcing herself to take deeper breathes, although they were still too quick.

I just held her lightly. A hug would have hindered her further. Her breathing soon slowed enough to speak.

"We need to go home. Now. We need to go home, now."

Home?

She didn't say back to MY home, but that was obviously the location that she meant.

She called it home.

I lifted her up enough to carry her to the edge of the pool, and then she got herself out. We dried off as best we could, and then put our clothes back on over damp suits. She turned off the heat and lights, and then we left.

The drive home was silent except for the engine and the heater that did an unsatisfactory job of keeping us warm. By all rights, the car should have been a sauna halfway back, but something was wrong with the heating, so having it on was only a little better than leaving it off on this cool, windy day.

It wasn't too bad for me, as I had only damp trunks and was otherwise fully dressed.

She, on the other hand, had a damp top and bottom, and had not put her socks back on. She was only just noticeably shivering by the time we got back inside.

I threw my bag on the sofa and immediately went to turn on a hot shower. We both disrobed to our swimsuits and got in to warm up. I rubbed her arms and hugged her to me.

Eventually, she was warm again, so she turned off the shower, we got out and dried each other and ourselves.

I followed her into the bedroom, unsure what she needed next. She had her vulnerabilities, but she was no damsel in distress, nor did I want her to be.

At the foot of the bed, she turned and gripped the waistband at the front of my trunks. I think her intend was to halt me, and they were simply the only clothing available to grab.

Her eyes moved to the faint teeth marks she left on one side of my chest. Her contemplative expression took on a slight sadness as she ran her fingers over the distinct pattern of broken capillaries.

"I guess we should get out of these wet clothes, before too long," she said, looking up at me.

Before too long. Interesting addition.

I put my palm flat above her breast to feel her heartbeat. Somewhat elevated. I held the back of her head with my other hand and gave her a long kiss.

I think I was actually just trying to buy some time to figure out what I wanted to do. There were so many things.

I wanted to grip her buttocks and lift her, so she could wrap her arms and legs around me.

I also wanted her to remain standing while I carefully inspected every inch of her, front and back.

Those were things that could be done another time.

I also want to make a cheesy joke, like 'I might be able to pull a few strings", but I thought better of that.

It was, however, not entirely inappropriate. Pulling those strings was the means to the end. The next revelation.

Wait.... I broke from her at all three points.

What I really want is for her to do it herself.

She's offering me this gift of getting to undress her, and as much as I do want that, what I want more is for her to want to make the choice to take the action.

I can enjoy unwrapping this gift another time, but this first time must be done by her. I need her to want it entirely on her own.

But there is a problem.

What if it's her grander fantasy that I do it for her. What happens when two fantasies are in conflict? I was not clever enough to work around this in silence.

I held her face in my hands.

"One of my fantasies is that you would never have to sacrifice one of your fantasies for the sake of one of mine, and right now, in this moment, my fantasy is that I need not do this myself."

I removed my hands from her, and then continued.

"Someday, I want to have the honor of baring you before me."

She remained still for a bit longer than I preferred, leaving me worried for what I might have unknowingly done, but then came the relief of her pulling me down to a kiss.

She parted, and as she took a half step back, I watched her near stoic demeanor gain sultry shades. She took one of my hands, turned it palm up, and held it as she manipulated my thumb and index finger to pinch the end of a string at the front of her top, and then she pulled my hand down.

The stretched material contracted, putting slightly more distance between the coverings, but the strings remained loosely overlapped. She placed the tip of my index finger on her sternum, and then began slowly sliding it downward toward the overlap.

Her manner, before stopping, suggested that I proceed on my own, so I continued sliding down the center of her, forcing the strings to part, and then I withdrew before reaching her belly.

The covering hung loosely, still concealing, and she teasingly slid her curled fingers lightly along the edges. Hands moved toward her center until the bottoms of her palms crossed over the edge, then immediately parted again, displacing the fabric.

Her hands were now the concealer.

She took two steps back, and I watched intently as she gave a brief massage, then separated them just enough more to let her erect nipples peak out of a space between her middle and ring fingers.

My first look at her areolas and their heightened centers

I was entranced.

Her hands reversed direction again, and the webs of her fingers pushed over those buds and then hid them once more, but only for an instant before another reverse.

This time, her hands carried on pulling the material away as she removed the top as one might a jacket or vest.

She had lovingly, and willingly, bore her breasts to me. She wanted me to take it in and appreciate them. Appreciate every instant, because there would never again be this first time.

I feared my knees might buckle when she decided to offer a little pose.

She shifted her weight onto one foot, raised the heel of the other off the ground just a little, shifted her shoulders back, with her arms mostly straight down, but her hands bent back as she played with the strings on either side of her hips.

And if that wasn't enough, she added in a very small twisting back and forth of her entire body, pivoting on the one foot.

That sight maxed out my erection. I had to make an effort to not move my hands.

It didn't worked.

Almost without realizing it, I cupped my notch and adjusted myself.

A little smile crept across her face.

Good god, I wanted to grab her up, right then and there. I wanted to be inside her so bad that it emanated in waves through my muscles.

But no.

Control.

Control.

It's not time for that, yet.

"God damn," I involuntarily whispered.

Her smile creeped up slightly further.

Then she pulled a string on one side.

Oh, god.

Control.