Such a Little Thing Ch. 03

I eased her legs further apart, allowing me to massage her inner thighs. I dribbled more oil between her arse cheeks and began massaging each firm, perfect bun. I allowed my fingers to brush her anal bud, remembering how she had enjoyed this previously and, sure enough, she responded with happy sighs. I saw that her pussy was also responding; normally the soft cleft between her outer lips showed only a slight pink ridge of her inner labia but now the outer lips had begun to open and the inner lips had darkened, swelled and bloomed, thrusting out. When I lowered my head I could smell her arousal over the scent of the oil.

I began to gently massage her anus, my finger pressing slightly into the tight pucker and she gave a loud moan, "Mmm Amber, that is so kinky but feels so nice!"

It was time to use the vibrator on her so I raised myself off her leg and slipped the fingers of my free hand into the now sopping, fleshy mass of my pussy. Grasping the butt end of the vibe was difficult; the oils on my fingers and my copious juices conspired to make it impossible to grip. I dried my hand against my tits and stomach and tried again and this time managed to tug it down. It came out with a surprisingly loud slurping sound. It was dripping with my juice and, as my finger continued gently rubbing her bum hole, I began stroking her labia with the vibrator. She was as wet as me and I slid it easily into her pussy until, with just the last centimetre of it in my fingers, I turned it on. The vibration was noticeable stronger that than my silver vibe and Milla's hips shot off the bed, impaling her anal ring on my finger.

"Oh fuck that feels fantastic!" she gasped breathlessly a moment later, "Your finger and the vibrator at the same time -- so good!" I began slowly pumping the vibrator in and out whilst, very gently, doing the same in her arsehole. She began to squeal and gasp "Yes!" over and over. She bucked hard again and now my finger was in past the first knuckle as her orgasm exploded. I let go of the vibe to cup my hand under her gushing pussy before raising my overflowing hand to my mouth. God! She tasted so good.

As her orgasm passed I pulled my finger from her and she flopped back onto the bed, utterly spent. I pulled the vibrator from her still-dripping puss and lay down beside her, licking it clean. I looked at Milla, sprawled face down beside me; she was asleep already so I gently pulled the sheet over her, kissing her hair. "Night, night darling," I whispered and settled down to sleep beside her.

I gradually woke from a deep sleep, a wonderful warm, sexy feeling in my pussy. I imagined Milla wearing the strap-on preparing to penetrate me, the tip of the dildo against my lower lips. I opened my legs wide, my body echoing my dream. "Fuck me, my darling woman," I sighed in my semi-sleep.

I imagined her pressing forward, entering me and felt it in my pussy! My eyes flicked open to see sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains. I turned my head and saw Milla knelt beside me; a dawning realization filled my mind and I raised my head to look down my body. There was Milla's hand holding the golden vibrator half buried in my pussy. "Good morning to you, my" she leant in and kissed me on the nose, "cute," a kiss on the cheek, "sexy," kiss on the other cheek, "kinky," kiss on the lips, "lesbian," long, deep kiss on the mouth, "girlfriend! Thank you so much for looking after me last night."

"It was my pleasure, my darling. Mmmm, this is a fantastic way to get woken up!" I told her.

"Hmm, good job you did wake up: another thirty seconds and this would have been all the way in and I'd have turned it on, like you did to me last night!"

"When I was asleep? You wouldn't da-aaaaaaaaaare!" She had slid the vibe deeper and turned it on without warning. "Oh shit that feels so nice!" I gasped as Milla laughed. I felt my juice begin to flow, trickling down over my perineum.

"It does, doesn't it? I can remember something else that felt nice too." She reached down and picked something up, hiding it in her hand as she shuffled down the bed. "Now just lay back; it's my turn to look after you this morning." I wondered where this was going, though I had some hopes and spread myself wider in anticipation. "Hmmm, a horny little dyke, aren't you?" Milla teased.

"I'm your horny little dyke! No man ever made me half this horny," I told her honestly. I felt my anus being caressed and let out a long "Oooooo" of pleasure.

"My little dyke likes her bum ring being tickled." The caresses became a firm pressure on my bud.

"Oh God, do I ever!" I admitted and instantly the silver vibrator that Milla had pressed against my bud was flicked into action. The sensation thrilled through me, echoing the vibration in my pussy. I pressed my hips down and felt my pucker open to take the tip of the vibe. "More," I gasped, and Milla slowly pressed the vibe deeper into my arsehole, lubricated by the juices flowing from my pussy.

Under this double assault, my climax rushed on me but it was not the normal short, sharp cumming of a quick orgasm but rather this seemed to bounce and rebound inside me, front to back and back to front as the vibrators buzzed my innards to a creamy pulp. At some point, I realized that the vibe was gone from my pussy and Milla was hungrily eating me out. The second vibrator was removed but Milla continued her soft lapping until I could stand no more and I twisted away, clamping my legs together.

I lay, curled on my side as Milla spooned me from behind. "Is it possible to be fucked to death by your gorgeous, sex maniac, lesbian lover?" I gasped.

"If it is, then this is a suicide pact -- you nearly killed me last night!" she laughed.

I turned to lie on my back. "I don't want to die with you, my love; I want to live with you and for a long time!" I said earnestly. "Milla? When you told me you were gay you mentioned getting married. Were you serious? Would you want to get married, well a Civil Partnership anyway, with a woman?"

Milla raised her head on her elbow and looked at me intently. "I would, yes. Why?"

"I," I hesitated, suddenly bashful, "I would too. I'd love to live in a world where I could walk in with a woman and say this is my wife."

"Any woman?" Milla asked quietly.

"No, not just any woman," I whispered, smiling.

Milla sat up and moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, her head bowed. I sat up too, and without thinking sat in the same way, facing her. "People would think it's completely ridiculous because we've only known each other for, what, seven weeks?" she said sadly.

"My parents told me that they were talking about getting married after just two weeks together so it's quick but, no, not completely ridiculous. People would say I'm too young though and that, well, I've just discovered I'm gay... and my parents..."

"And mine too -- they won't even know I'm gay until this evening! Come on, we better get up: we promised Graham breakfast for all his help yesterday."

We showered together, missing the spacious shower of the hotel room but enjoying the intimacy. After we'd dressed Milla started on breakfast whilst I went to fetch Uncle Graham -- somehow I couldn't think of him as just Graham. When we arrived back, Milla had set the small table and was already serving up bacon and eggs with toast. I went and kissed her, "It never ceases to amaze me how brilliant you are at cooking, my love."

After breakfast, we said goodbye to Uncle Graham before we went our separate ways and Milla and I tried to keep ourselves busy to avoid thinking about that evening. Our experience with my parents did not bode well at all.

Just after four o'clock, Milla came into the workshop looking, I had to be honest, terrible. I took her in my arms and hugged her tight. "It'll be alri..." I stopped myself, remembering how a similar comment from Milla yesterday had made me explode. "Okay, it could be horrible," I conceded, "but I'll be there with you. And maybe what happened yesterday will help us handle it better; remember, we don't apologise for being lesbians!"

She took a deep breath, "I won't apologise and hopefully it'll be okay. Oh God, Amber, I'm so glad you'll be with me."

"Of course I will. In the meantime..." I reached under the bench and pulled a bottle of lager from what had been a large bowl of ice at lunchtime but was now mostly water. "I got this ready for you. I know it's early but it might help you relax just a bit without getting drunk." I opened the bottle and handed it to her. "Er, you do drink beer, don't you?"

"Not usually," she said as she accepted the bottle, "but as it's Italian and as you gave it to me and because I'm so stressed -- cheers!" She took a swig. "Actually, that's not too bad. Thanks, Amber."

I continued finishing up what I was doing. "Do your parents live here in town?" I asked.

"No, in Cotterton, a village about ten miles away; we can catch the number 17 bus from down the road."

"What time is the bus?"

"There's one just before five o'clock and the next an hour later."

I put the tools away. "Stuff it; I'm closing ten minutes early so we can catch the first bus. I don't want you having to wait and worry for an extra hour."

And so it was, forty minutes later we were standing at the door of Milla's parents' large house. Mrs Carluccio opened the door. She was middle-aged, tall and slim like Milla but lacked Milla's olive skin. Her hair and eyes were brown and, as she invited us in, I saw the same amber shading in her eyes as in Milla's.

"Hi, Mama," said Milla in a bright, brittle voice. "This is my friend Amber, Amber Taylor; she runs the new framing shop next door to the Caffè."

We shook hands, "Pleased to meet you, Mrs Carluccio."

"Hello Amber and welcome; it's not often I get to meet one of Milla's friends." She led us through to a large, bright open kitchen that was obviously part on an extension to the back of the house and invited us to sit so we sat side by side. "This is an unexpected visit, Camilla."

"Is Papa home?"

"No, dear, he could be another hour yet." She looked at her daughter, "Was there something you wanted to tell us?" Her eyes seemed to look at me appraisingly.

"I do Mama... but..."

"Well, do you want to wait for your Papa or can you just tell me first? It might be easier that way."

Milla nodded. "I... Mama, you know I don't have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, Camilla, I know. I don't think you've ever had a boyfriend, have you?" she replied calmly. I looked at her. She seemed almost to be expecting something.

"No, I haven't, and I won't, ever."

"That's okay dear. Do you want to tell me why you won't and why you're so sure?"

"It's because... Mama, I'm homosexual, a lesbian!" Milla looked terrified as she blurted the words out.

Mrs Carluccio simply nodded, a slight, satisfied smile on her face. "Camilla, it's okay," she said gently, "I'm glad you've told me but I must confess that I've thought that you probably were gay for a long time."

"Really, Mama?" Milla sounded surprised but also relieved. "I've known since I was at college, but... how did you guess?"

"Camilla, I may be just an old woman to you but I'm not stupid! You've never shown any interest in boys or men, so I began to wonder and watch you, follow your eyes when we were out. No man ever got more than a glance, but some of the girls and women... you certainly noticed them!" She smiled and turned to me, "And you, Amber, sitting so close and protective and concerned for Camilla..." she looked back at Milla and leaned forward, "who is, I notice, wearing an amber pendant that I've never seen before; are you perhaps the reason why Camilla has told me this today, I wonder?"

We both nodded, but the look of terror on Milla's face when we arrived had been replaced, first by amazement and now by a smile. "Yes, Mama: Amber is my girlfriend."

"And Milla is most definitely my girlfriend," I slipped my arm around her. "Mrs Carluccio, that was amazing. You were like Sherlock Holmes the way you deduced all that!"

Mrs Carluccio looked at me and smiled, "It was elementary, my dear Amber. I read the Sherlock Holmes stories when I was a girl and I've always enjoyed trying to work things out using 'the method'. I had lots of practice as a mother working out what Camilla and her brother Marco were up to."

"That's why Marco and I never got away with anything," complained Milla. "Mama, how do you feel about it, knowing that I'm a lesbian?"

"Honestly? Well, I was -- I still am -- a bit afraid of what people might think of us as parents; that they'd believe that we did something wrong raising you, even though it's nonsense. I was also a little disappointed, I think, that there'd be no wedding or grandchildren. Mostly, though, I was worried about you, Camilla; the prejudice and hate you might get and whether you'd meet someone who'd love you. I think that I can stop worrying on that last point, can I?"

"Definitely, Mrs Carluccio," I replied firmly, "I, I love your beautiful daughter so much."

"And, well I heard they're talking about maybe changing the law so gay people can marry, so the wedding might happen..." Milla added.

Mrs Carluccio gave us another appraising look. "I can see you've begun thinking about the future together." She smiled at us. "Camilla, Amber: I'm very happy for you both."

"Mama, does Papa know, well, guess that I'm gay?"

"Lucca? Guess? Of course not! If you were one of his buildings he might have paid enough attention to have noticed!" she smiled. "However, I have told him what I suspected, though he didn't much like it, I'm afraid. He tells himself that you're being selective and just need to meet the right man. I'm not sure how he'll react when you tell him that the 'right man' is this very pretty young lady." I couldn't help blushing. "I think in his heart he knows... just -- try not to get angry if he's a bit stubborn."

"Yeah, I, er, stormed out of my parents' house when they didn't accept it. That really didn't help." I told her.

"How do they feel now?" she asked.

"Um, well, it was only yesterday that I told them. It was meeting Milla that made me realize I was lesbian. I had a boyfriend until three months ago, so I should have been gentler on them I guess."

We chatted on as Milla and I told her about the meeting with my parents and why I'd had to tell them. We then went back to when we met, how I'd struggled with accepting my real sexuality, even the drawing I'd done on her birthday evening that had ended with us sleeping together.

"I'd love to see that drawing one day," Mrs Carluccio told us, "if you wouldn't mind Camilla. Perhaps you'd draw me one day, Amber, though perhaps not in the same state of déshabillé -- an ordinary, fully clothed portrait would be fine! Ah, I think that's your Papa." She stood and went to the kitchen door as we heard the slamming of a car's doors. Doors, not just a door: that was odd. Mrs Carluiccio turned to us, "Milla, I think Nonno is with Papa." Milla went pale. "Let's not say anything today, Camilla. Talk to your Papa on his own another day."

"No, Mama, I want to get this over with. I need to tell Nonno too some time anyway, so why not today?"

We heard the front door being opened and heard a man's voice, "Hello Louise, I've brought Papa with me. I happened to drive past the Caffè and he was outside. He was going to see Camilla but she wasn't there." I guessed that was the younger Mr Carluccio, Milla's dad.

"No, she's here," Mrs Carluccio told him.

I recognised Nonno's voice: "My Camilla she is here? I wanted to speak to her at the Caffè."

"Why don't we all go to the drawing room where we can be more comfortable?" suggested Mrs Carluccio.

The room was large and comfortable with two sofas and two armchairs. A vast plasma screen TV was located against one wall and the other walls were hung with paintings and architects' drawings of buildings. We filed in and once again Milla and I were seated together on a sofa. I had tried not to sit too close to Milla so as not to make our relationship too obvious but she shuffled closer until our legs were touching.

As soon as we were seated, Mr Carluccio asked who I was. Milla was about to reply when Nonno interjected: "That's Amber. She's Camilla's good friend who does the framing of the pictures. And she tidies up il Caffè for free, just to help Camilla when it busy! She's a lovely young lady. She's a very good artist, too; very passionale... er, passionate."

"She's Camilla's...special friend, Lucca," Mrs Camilla said, clearly trying to get her husband to understand our relationship without using the words 'girlfriend', 'gay' or 'lesbian'. The light of understanding, however, failed to dawn in Mr Carluccio's mind and he just looked slightly confused. His wife made one last desperate attempt, "Amber is Camilla's not-boy friend!"

I thought that this was a long shot and wasn't surprised when Mr Carluccio looked even more confused. "Of course she's not a boy. What..."

"Louise, she is trying to tell you that Camilla, she likes girls and Amber, she likes the girls too. Is that right, Camilla? And you two in love together?" If jaws dropping made a sound then we'd all have been deafened! As it was, there was absolute, stunned silence.

"Yes, Nonno, I do. I like girls, not boys or men. That's why I came over, Papa, to tell you and Mama that I'm gay... and that Amber is my girlfriend." She held my hand and squeezed it, waiting for the reaction.

"That makes sense why you two are holding hands the other week; I see you walking like little girls. And I see the drawing in the flat, Camilla; when you not there today I go in and see your beautiful picture. Amber, she draw it, no?"

Milla was blushing as she nodded and I felt a little flushed myself at the thought of Nonno looking at the nude -- and more than a little sensual -- drawing of his granddaughter.

"Papa?" Milla needed to know her father's feelings.

"Louise, you were right, weren't you? I should have believed you. My little girl..."

"Papa, your little girl is a grown woman, a woman who has found someone who absolutely adores and loves her." Milla looked at me. "And I love her back, just as much"

"Another woman though!" he protested.

"Lucca, in this day and age, why does that matter?" asked Mrs Carluccio. "Surely the fact that Amber loves our daughter and makes her happy is what matters? Camilla is a lesbian, it's a part of who she is, it's always been a part of who she is. She's the same person today as she was yesterday or last week or last month."

"Always, Camilla?"

"Probably, Papa. I've been sure since I was at college."

Mr Carluccio sat frowning, looking at Milla and I and Mrs Carluccio, even once or twice at his father. Milla sat nervously chewing her lip. Finally, he gave a deep sigh. "Okay, fine. It looks like I'm the last to know, as usual, but, okay: hello, Amber, I'm pleased to meet my daughter's girlfriend," and with that, he came over and shook my hand and Milla leapt up and hugged him. "I need a drink: how about dinner at The Old Fox?" he asked everyone.

As we walked to the pub in the centre of the village, Milla spoke to Nonno. "You were very cool about Amber and me, Nonno."

"You think because I am old, maybe I should not... not approve you love a girl?"

"Well, I did worry, yes. I can't help who I am but I don't want to upset you."

"Hey, I want my son to run the Caffè, but he wants to be un architetto and it make me upset. But then my beautiful granddaughter, she loves to run the Caffè and that make me happy. Now my granddaughter, she a lesbian and loves another beautiful girl: so what? She is happy, what more should I want?"

Milla leant in and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Nonno. I love you."