The Sun on my Skin Ch. 03

She looks at me, perhaps trying to gauge my sincerity. "Really?" she asks.

"Yes, really. We're not friends but, well, you were kind to me this evening, letting me borrow your stuff — which I feel I should take home and wash, by the way — but... where was I? Yes, you were kind to me and we seem to be able to talk and get along, so there's no reason why we cannot become friends, right?" I smile at her, and she smiles back and nods.

"For sure... and yes, I'd love to come. So, you want to surprise Ali?"

"It was a sudden, mad idea but, yes. I don't really know what to get her for Christmas, and then this idea popped into my head."

"It's a sweet idea... although if you're serious about surprising Ali then I'd better take the top and leggings."

"Why... oh, yeah. I'd have a difficult time explaining them, wouldn't I, if Ali saw them."

"For sure. You know, I think I might surprise Vanessa too; maybe just tell her we're going out somewhere for Christmas lunch. Here," she reaches into her bag, fumbling around, before pulling out a small white card and handing it to me.

"Heather Hamilton. Qualified Personal Trainer and Pilates Instructor," I read out loud from the card.

"It has my phone number and email — so we can sort out the details for Christmas, yes?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I don't have a card with my number on it."

"Call me and then I'll have it." She drains the last of her orange juice. "Let me drop you home, Tina."

"Thanks, Heather," I reply, as I finish my wine.

PART III — The ups and downs of step-motherhood

Wednesday 16 December

The woman before me is laying on her side on the foam exercise mat. Her torso is encased in tight, form-fitting fabric, but she is naked from the waist down. I reach out to caress the firm, silky-soft arse cheeks in front of me and, as I watch, the upper leg raises in a graceful, controlled arc. "And let your leg float up — up — up as if drawn by a delicate thread," Heather says. Revealed are the smooth, puffy and glitteringly moist lips of the woman's pussy, while the subtle, rich scent of her arousal tickles my nose as I lower my head. My lips part and my tongue reaches out, seeking a taste of her nectar...

A soft grunt distracts me, making me turn. There is Andi on all fours, a desperate lust in her eyes that turns to awkward embarrassment as our eyes meet. Behind her is Charles, the man from the Pilates class, also naked from the waist down and grasping Andi's hips as he thrusts back and forth. "That's right Charles, engage your core muscles and breathe in as you thrust and out as you withdraw, hips nice and square as you impale her butt hole..." Heather's voice — the voice of the woman I am about to ravage with my tongue — has the same soothing melodic quality, despite the carnality of her instructions.

My gaze moves on, and there are the two women I followed up the stairs. Their lower halves are also naked as, I realize, is mine; my bum and cunt exposed while my torso is encased in Heather's tight Lycra top. "Very good, Charlotte, now just hold there — one, two, three — as Mary performs her lingual caresses of your cunt, — four, five, six — and gently lower and Mary saviours and swallows... good. And again..."

I hastily dive in, driving my tongue into Heather's warm, wet snatch — as hairless as mine, I notice — trying to catch up with her instructions. We are supposed to be demonstrating this exercise, after all.

As her leg descends, I look around again, licking my lips and enjoying the rich savouriness of her juices. There is Tanwen, just beginning to raise her leg as Jan impatiently dives in. Tanwen smiles at me and gives a little wave before she gasps as Jan connects with her pussy.

I lean in as I sense Heather's leg rising once more, planning my mouth over her vulva and wriggling my tongue deep into the sopping, folded flesh. "Mmm, Tina, you lied to me: this is not the first time performing the Cunnilingual Leg Lift, is iiiit?" She gasps as I give her clit a sharp suck.

She begins to lower her leg and I scan the rest of the class. There is another pair of women... oh my god: one is Jojo, completely naked and looking tanned and the other, between her legs, is the equally naked Marta, with her dark, Mediterranean skin. They show little interest in Heather's instructions, Jojo resting her raised leg on Marta's back as the Spanish girl refuses to interrupt feasting on her lover's cunt. Marta's arse is raised as she leans forward and I can see the soft, rounds bulge of her sex, the lips red and gaping and wet with juices that I tasted, once, when Marta and I helped Jojo discover the joys of Sapphic love.

I feel a warm trickle down the inside of my thigh as my own pussy oozes, and I lean in once more to lick Heather hungrily...

There is a sharp, loud squeak of hinges and a crash as the door is hurled open. There in the doorway is Alex — ex-girlfriend and bitch from hell — with a sneer on her face. "Oh, Tina, you're such a sad, little slut, aren't you? Well, fun time's over!" She grins evilly as she reaches into the room to smash her fist into the fire alarm button and the alarms begin to screech...

I open my eyes as the fire alarm morphs to become the sound of my alarm clock, dragging me awake. "Oh shit," I murmur, reaching out to slap the off button, "that was... bizarre." Bizarre but very, very sexy and my pussy is every bit as wet in reality as it was in my dream, letting my wandering fingers slip easily inside.

They slide out just as easily, wet and slimy with my cream as I open my mouth to suck them clean. It's not as good as tasting someone else, but it's better than nothing by a long way.

I begin to finger myself, deep thrusts and shallow, more tasting of myself, gentle caresses of my clit. I start slowly, taking my time, savouring the feelings gradually building. I caress myself — tits, stomach, thighs, pussy — wishing there was someone with me. My slow fingering increases in tempo, my gentle caressing becomes a fast, hard rubbing as I jill myself. "Mmmmmm." I can feel myself getting closer, my orgasm looming and my breathing is now fast, short gasps of pleasure and desire as the excitement takes me.

Three fingers now, thrust deep inside, stretching me, in and out as my thumb runs back and forth across my hard, tingling button. Unnnn, so good... but not enough. I swap hands, my left hand now fucking myself and allowing the first two fingers of my right hand to go to town on my clit: harder, faster... faster... "Uhhhhhhh, ahhhhh, yesss!" The dream Image of Heather reappears in my imagination: half-naked, cunt dripping, fingering me as I finger her... No, this is not a good idea, and I try to turn the Heather of my imagination into a woman I've seen sometimes at the swimming pool, watched her naked in the shower... Mmm, yes, caressing her slick, soapy bum, Heather showering after a long sweaty class...

"Uuuuuhhhhhh!" I keep going as the waves of my climax crash through me, too long overdue, and I lose myself in the feelings. A second, smaller orgasm follows and I slow, at last, my body glowing and tingling and slick with sweat. I let out a long sigh of bliss before slowly licking and sucking my fingers clean as I roll onto my side, drowsy with post-orgasmic contentment...

A knocking wakes me again. "Yes?" I ask groggily.

"Um, Tina," Ali's voice is muffled by the door but she still sounds nervous, "Um, it's getting late and, er, you're usually up and dressed by now."

I turn over to look at the clock: it's five to eight. "Shit!" I hurl back the duvet and launch myself from the bed. I startle Ali as I emerge, still naked, and dash to the bathroom with a hasty apology, before undertaking a speedy — but very necessary — shower.

My superficial and hurried drying leaves me still a little clammy when I emerge a few minutes later. Ali is at the kitchen table, sliding her laptop into her college bag. She glances toward me and looks.... a bit upset or uncomfortable, maybe.

"Thanks for waking me, Ali. Are you okay?" I ask solicitously.

"Um yeah, I'm good. I gotta go or I'll be kinda late for college, you know?" She fastens her bag and hoists it onto her shoulder.

"Of course. Have a good day," I tell her. Something's not quite right; perhaps it was me running naked to the bathroom. I know I'm not her mum but I am her step-parent and a parent of any sort streaking past you is probably a bit disturbing. "I'll be home on time tonight, I promise," I call after her.

"Bye, Tina," she calls.

I manage to gulp down about a third of a mug of tea before rushing from the house. The buses are kind but I'm still late and the last one into the office. I push through the door and hurry into my office, dumping my bag onto the floor, shrugging my coat off and dropping it over the back of my chair, before sitting down heavily, with a sigh.

I look through my door and meet Tanwen's gaze. She smiles and gives a little wave and I feel my cheeks warming in embarrassment because the wave and smile are exactly those she gave me in last night's dream. I really shouldn't be involving my colleagues in my fantasies. Hypocrite! I had sex with Jojo and Jan, and actually fucking colleagues has to be worse than dreaming about them fucking each other, surely?

I wave back and turn on my PC. No more thinking about sex. No more half-naked Jan or Tanwen or naked Jojo or Marta, I tell myself. And let's stop sexualising a straight, lonely woman who just needs a friend, even if she does look too good in Lycra. Maybe in different circumstances, I would have made a play, tried seducing the straight woman as I did with Jojo and Jan. Maybe not, given how those had turned out, how much they'd hurt, and especially not since she's the Mum of Ali's girlfriend. Shit, Ali would never forgive me.

"Hi, Ali, I'm home," I call as I shut the door behind me. I'm slightly nervous after Ali's apparent reaction to seeing me nude this morning. How do I tackle this?

"Hi," comes the reply from her room. The door is ajar, so I feel able to push it a little so that I can stick my head into her room to see her. She is at her desk with papers and books and her laptop open, but the hasty clicking away of the video messenger and Nessa's face suggests that she's not being all work and no play. Of course, she may, just possibly, have been talking to her girlfriend about College work, and I've no doubt that is what she'd claim. I decide this is not a battle not worth having, especially as she does seem to be making more effort.

"How was college?" That's a safe topic on which to start the conversation.

"Good," she replies with a sudden smile. "I got my last English assignment back: I got a B!"

"Ali, that's brilliant," I tell her. "Was that on the novel?" I ask, knowing that the novels are the part of the course she enjoys most.

"No, the Shakespeare, actually," she tells me with justifiable smugness since Shakespeare is her least favourite.

"Then I raise the 'brilliant' to an 'outstanding'. Can I get you anything, you clever girl? Hot chocolate?"

"Yes please,"

I return a few minutes later with two mugs: chocolate for her and tea for me. I place the mug of chocolate on her desk. Sod it, I'm just going to have to apologise and see what she says.

"Thanks. Tina, on..."

"I'm sorry about running out of my room naked this morning," I blurt the words out. "I panicked a bit over how late it was."

"No, it's okay," she says, and the awkward note in her voice makes me wish I hadn't mentioned it. "I mean, it's your house so I guess you could walk around, like, naked whenever you liked... before I got here."

"Yes, I could, um, what I mean, Ali is that this is your home too now and, yes, things are a bit different but that's fine. I just wanted to make sure I didn't upset you, that's all."

"I'm okay," She says the words but I sense there is something wrong... Oh shit, she didn't, did she?

"Ali, was there anything else, you know, from this morning that, er, unsettled you?" I ask, anxiety sending a cold wave through me.

"I heard... this morning, you, er..." she stammers, blushing. My apprehension was right.

"Ah, yes. Sorry, I didn't realize I was being so, er, loud." I feel my cheeks flush. "What can I say? This morning it was just, well... shit, Ali, you're a teenager: you must know what it's like some mornings! I'll try to be more... discrete in future, okay?"

"Too much information!" she complains.

"Okay, yes... but just remember, it's all perfectly natural and nothing to be embarrassed or upset about. Right?"

"What, like you're not embarrassed and upset right now?"

"Um, yes okay... Look, I just feel that I, er... that I let you down this morning, I suppose."

"Sure... I mean you didn't." She hesitates. "Tina, you don't resent me being here, do you?" she asks abruptly.

"No, of course not. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. I guess, well this morning and like last night was the first time you've, like, not been home and cooked and you don't go out and stuff, so I guess you're going to get lonely and, um... stuff, you know?"

"I'm not lonely, Ali," I reassure her. "With you here, I have more company than I've had in a long while."

"You know what I mean. I just, you know... I don't want you to, like, resent me, that's all."

"What do you mean?" I ask. She doesn't think I'm jealous of her relationship with Nessa, does she? She hesitates, biting her lip for a moment before replying.

"When I was younger, before she could just leave me and go out and stuff, Mum sometimes used to call me her ball and chain, said I stopped her from having fun."

"Ali, if I ever feel that then we'll talk about it, I promise." I touch her arm gently. "I guess that I've felt that I should be here for you, I mean after what Pippa asked and what Bernie and that other woman from Social Services said about assessing me and everything... I know I could go out if I chose, but it just hasn't felt right, I suppose. Would you feel happier if I did go out sometimes?" She grins in reply and I cannot help smiling back. "Yes... and I can guess why too! You don't need me out of the way to have Nessa over to stay."

"No, but... Anyway, there was something I was going to tell you, I mean ask you. Heather's agreed to Nessa and me having the sleepover on Friday night, at Nessa's, so can I?. You wouldn't have to be here for me then."

"Thank you for asking, Ali, especially since I've already said I didn't have a problem with you going. Has Nessa told Heather about the two of you?" I ask.

"No. She... she's not quite ready yet. But she will be — Ness just needs a bit more time, you know?" There is a slight sadness in Ali's voice — a worry, perhaps, that Nessa doesn't love her enough to tell Heather — and I wonder if, sometime in the not too distant future, I'll be faced with Ali's broken heart.

"I'm sure she will, when she's ready. It's a big, scary step, after all." I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Will you be okay getting home on Saturday morning?"

"Sure. It's not that far, even if Ness can't blag Heather into giving me a lift," Ali replies in a tone that suggests a lift is definitely on the cards.

"Okay. Right, I'd better start dinner and let you get back to work."

"And will you go out tomorrow night, Tina?" she asks.

"You know, I think I might," I smile.

Friday 18 December

I got up on time this morning, so no noisy but oh-so-satisfying frigging of myself to orgasm, alas. The plus side, of course, was no inappropriate fantasies.

Ali's bedroom door was shut so I was able to walk naked across the hall to the bathroom without disturbing her. Now that I'm showered and clean, I wrap the towel around myself demurely, expecting Ali to be up. However, as soon as I open the bathroom door I can see that her door is still shut. It looks like it's my turn to wake her this morning. However, as I raise my knuckle to knock, I hear her sobbing. Oh shit, what's happened?

I tap softly on her door. "Ali?" I call gently. "Ali, are you okay?"

There's no reply, just a fresh wave of crying and I feel I have no choice but to open the door and peep into her room. "Ali, love, what is it?" I ask. "It's not Nessa, is it?" She shakes her head and wipes her hand across her eyes.

"Mum...it... it was a month ago today," she sobs. Guilt floods me; how could I have not anticipated that today would be significant?

I hurry over to her bed, holding the towel tightly around me, and sit down beside her. I stretch out my arm, offering a cuddle. "I'm so sorry, I should have thought."

She shakes her head, rejecting comfort. "It's not you, it's me! I forgot! I didn't think about her, not all yesterday or the day before. All I've been thinking about is Nessa and college stuff."

"Ali..." I hesitate. What do I say? "Ali, your Mum has gone, and that's really sad, but that doesn't mean you can't move on, can't live your own life."

"I missed her so much at first, back when, you know... but to not even think about her, not for days... I'm a horrible person."

"No! Ali, you are not horrible, not at all," I protest. This time I do not offer but reach around her shoulders to hold her firmly. "Listen to me. Remember your Mum's letter to me, the things she said about wanting you to live your life, to be happy and achieve your potential. And look at you: you have Nessa, you're trying hard, getting homework and assignments done, the B grade you got in English... we're getting along, aren't we?" She gives a nod. "I'm not claiming to speak for Pippa but, well, I don't think she would want you crying because you didn't think about her for a day or two." Ali nods, but she doesn't look convinced. "Ali, your College told me — that is, er, Frances told me — that if you needed it, the College can put you in touch with a counsellor. Do you think that might help, to have someone you can talk to about stuff like this?"

"I'm talking to you, aren't I? Or don't you like talking to me? Sorry for being upset, I mean I've only lost my Mum, so..." Her anger is rising, anger directed at me because... I don't know; because I'm here, I suppose. However, something tells me that getting angry back is not going to help.

"Ali, listen, please!" I say, trying to be firm but in a kindly voice. "Of course I'm happy to talk to you it's just that I don't necessarily know how to help you, I can only say what it occurs to me to say but that could be unhelpful — maybe even the completely wrong advice for you." I pause and, thankfully, she doesn't argue. "When I lost Mum and Dad, no one offered me counselling — certainly not directly. I remember there was a number for a bereavement counselling service on one of the letters I received, but it seemed like it was something I was expected not to need, you know? Maybe if Pippa and I had contacted them, had spoken to someone about how we felt..."

"You wouldn't have fallen out?" Ali suggests.

"We'd already fallen out by then, but you know, maybe as the pain of losing Mum and Dad eased — and it does ease, believe me — maybe we might have stopped blaming each other and started talking again."

"Did you blame her for your Dad's death?" she asks.

"I... no, not really. I think I wanted to blame her because I knew she blamed me. Looking back now, it seems so stupid. Anyway," I say, touching her cheek to make her look at me, "all I'm saying is that a trained counsellor might be able to help you to deal with all this better than I can. So, if you want, I can contact Frances, or you could go and see her yourself? Okay," I smile a little at her expression, "maybe she is a bit too scary."

"A bit. Tina, what if I'm forgetting Mum? What if I stop being able to remember her at all, what she looked like, her voice..."