Three Steps to Heaven

"Before anything else, Jessie, I'd better tell you that I'm heavily tattooed."

I shrugged. "So? A lot of people are tattooed. Anyway, I hadn't noticed."

"They're well covered—I don't have any that are visible when I'm dressed. Some of the older folk I give private computer lessons to may not approve—when a lot of them were young usually only some military personnel and criminals were tattooed. Thing is, though, the last girl I invited here, a brief mistake after I broke up with Anneka, didn't like my tattoos, in fact she was utterly scathing about them. Barbaric, disgusting, spoiled my looks, why did I want to abuse my body like this... on and on and on... We didn't last long, didn't even get to make love, I asked her to leave straight away."

"Tell you what, Amelia, why not let me make up my own mind?"

"Okay, Jessie, give me a minute." She disappeared into her bathroom to emerge a few moments later naked.

Amelia had a beautiful body, trim with small breasts and a tight little backside, but it was her tattoos that caught and held the attention. I'd never seen any quite like them before. Amelia's tattoos were fascinating. They were exotic, they were inventive, they were just... well, they were just so Amelia...

Her upper arms, shoulder to elbow, had detailed, near-perfect, copies of Mucha's sensual art while her legs, from thigh to ankle, were adorned with a series of lush, multi-coloured blossoms. Starting from her belly-button, a golden-scaled Chinese dragon crept its sinuous way upwards, sliding between her neat little breasts and curving off to disappear over her left shoulder, only for its head to reappear from behind her right, reaching down towards her breast tattooed on which was a lotus flower with her nipple at the centre. Another lotus flower embellished her left breast. Below all that was the pièce-de-résistance: between her navel and clean-shaven mound and honeypot was a huge dragonfly in iridescent colours, head at her belly-button, tail-tip touching the top of her cleft, while the lacy transparent wings extended on either side to her flanks. She pirouetted so that I could see her back. There was the curl of the Chinese dragon's body around the nape of her neck while from buttocks to between her shoulder-blades she was adorned with a full-length naked Balinese dancing girl.

"Amelia! they're so... just simply wonderful... amazing... they're the loveliest tattoos I've ever seen... who did them?"

Relief flashed across Amelia's face. "Woman called Tilly, has her own parlour in Newcombe. They're unique, though, designed most of them myself except for the dragonfly. That's Tilly's own work. And there's a beauty parlour couple of doors along where I get my wax jobs done. You like the tattoos, then?"

"Like them? I love them!"

Amelia looked at my face for several seconds and obviously decided I was being truthful. "I worried that you might find them too much. Right, Jessie, let's get you out of those clothes now. You're overdressed."

Amelia came close, pulled my sweater over my head, tossed it towards a nearby chair and began to undo the buttons on my plaid shirt. Her breasts and dark-brown little nipples were almost in my face and I reached out an exploring index-finger to touch one. It felt strange to be doing something like this but lovely strange. Amelia gave me a little smile of encouragement so I leaned forward to take the other nipple between my lips. My tongue crept forward and I took a tentative lick. Her nipples seemed to become more erect and my licking turned into avid sucking.

Amelia pulled away slightly, cupping my face in her hands and I wondered if I was doing something wrong. Obviously not, though, for she lowered her head so that her lips met mine and gently found my tongue and sucked on it. I heard myself moaning a little before she once more held a breast to my mouth so that I could resume kissing all around it before again paying attention to the nipple. After several minutes I moved across to her other nipple while caressing the first between finger and thumb.

Again Amelia pulled back. "Carry on like this, Jessie, and I'll never get you undressed." She gave me one quick kiss before unfastening the final two buttons of my shirt which she threw in the general direction of my sweater. Off came my bra which followed the other two garments. My breasts were a little larger than Amelia's with dark red nipples and areolas. "Oh, Jessie, what lovely boobs you have," Amelia exclaimed with delight. None of my male lovers had complimented my breasts with such sincerity. Come to think of it, I couldn't really recall any of them paying me much in the way of compliments at all. Something else was happening. Down below I could feel myself getting really, really wet, not a sensation I was used to when other people were involved.

Amelia knelt at my feet to tug my boots off before unzipping my jeans, pulling them down and lobbing them across the room. As far as I could see, none of my clothes had hit target but were scattered on the floor. In the position I was in I should worry? Finally, my panties went the way of all other garments. I was a bit hairy down below and seeing that Amelia was waxed smooth I worried that she might find this off-putting. I shouldn't have been concerned. She leaned forward, kissed my pussy and audibly inhaled, evidently delighted. "God, but you smell good, Jessie, and—" she ran her finger along my slit, "—you're lovely and wet." She eased my lips apart and using just the tip of her tongue, licked slowly from vagina to clit. I gasped aloud with pleasure.

She moved up my body then, planting a series of soft, moist kisses along my torso until she reached the hollow below my throat where the kisses changed to a firm lick, tongue moving over my chin until she reached my lips. Straddling me, Amelia said: "That first day we met, when we had lunch in the coffee shop—I told you then that I could easily fall in love with you. Well, that was only a half-truth, I already had fallen. There really was something about you that convinced me you were gay, Jessie, even if you hadn't realised. Now you believe you're in love with me. Don't just let me be a novelty try-out, Jessie, that would break my heart. So now's the time to stop if you want, before this goes too far..."

I could feel my eyes filling with tears as she spoke. "I promise that you're not an experiment, Amelia, I couldn't... wouldn't treat you like that." I pulled her down and kissed her firmly. "For tonight, please just love me."

Amelia lay down so that her body was pressed firmly against min and our lips met again, our tongues lovingly exploring each other. "You're beautiful, Amelia," I whispered, "and I do love you."

"Keep right on loving me, Jessie, because I love you too. And guess what... I think you're beautiful as well."

Tears started to well again. "None of my blokes ever said that to me."

Amelia laughed. "Well, if you did waste all those years on a bunch of dipshits..."

"Oh, be quiet Amelia Vanity Fair Brogan, and kiss me again." She obliged and then started to work her way back down my body with those soft kisses that seemed to say so much. She stopped at my breasts, kissing her way slowly around them, pinching and tugging at my nipples before taking one in her mouth, sucking so hard that it felt as if my whole breast was afire with pleasure. After several minutes she turned her attention to the other nipple, lapping and nibbling and suckling. By now I was wetter than I'd ever been and emitted little whimpering sounds as I bucked my hips, wordlessly imploring Amelia to pay attention to my honeypot.

She must have sensed my need for she reached down with a hand and slipped a pair of fingers into my vagina very slowly, stroking the inner walls with a tender touch. A soft thumb caressed my clit at about the moment her exploring fingers found my spongy g-spot. I gasped aloud as I felt myself clench down on her. Amelia resumed her slow movement down my body until she knelt between my legs, kissing all around my outer lips before she eased them apart to explore my pussy with her eyes. "I don't know if you realise, sweetie, but you're awash down here, it's pouring out of you. I'd better clean you up."

Amelia brought her mouth to my pussy to lap like a kitten. She did things with her pointed tongue that I wouldn't have believed possible including pushing it some way into my vagina before withdrawing it and thoroughly licking my inner lips. I could feel myself nearing the brink and when Amelia took my clit between her lips and tongue to suck, I exploded.

Oh wow! Oh holy wow! This was it! This was the spectacular orgasm of my dreams. I felt myself soaring to heaven while orchestras played crescendo, tsunamis thundered, bells peeled out, grand-opera choruses boomed, constellations spun madly and far-flung galaxies whirled.

And then I did the weirdest thing. As I was returning to earth I started to laugh like some kind of loon, barely able to stop myself. Amelia, now lying beside me on her tummy with an arm around my waist, looked bemused. "That's hardly the reaction I expected," she said.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I said between giggles, "but you've just given me the orgasm I've always dreamed of and never got. Thought I never would." I pulled her towards me, smothering her face with kisses in between explaining about the heavenly flight complete with orchestras, tsunamis, bells, grand-opera, constellations and galaxies. "And you did all that with one flick of your tongue, the best orgasm in the world. I think that mild-mannered IT expert Amelia Brogan must be the alter ego of Supergirl!"

Amelia smiled and kissed me back. "No, just an ordinary gay Goth girl trying to please the woman I love."

"Can I please the woman I love now? I might not be very good at it but I'll give it my best shot."

"You'll be just fine," Amelia told me, "just do what you think you'd like."

As Amelia was already face-down, I bent to kiss and lick the hollows behind her knees and she gave a little shiver. "Clever girl," she purred, "I've always liked that." So I gave her a few more minutes of that before kissing and licking my way along her inner thighs. Amelia raised her hips a little to give me a good view of her naked pussy which glistened with creamy rich juice. I hesitated, not knowing what to expect, but the urge to lick her was overwhelming. I parted her labia, briefly admired the delicate inner lips and rosy colouring, then used my tongue.

How the hell do you describe a taste when you've had nothing to compare it with? An unusual sweetness with a soupçon of tartness and tangy under taste—whatever it was and as strange as it was, I decided that I loved it.

Moving back, I slid fingers into Amelia and lovingly played with her as I began to lavish a series of kisses on her dancing girl tattoo, all the way up to her neck. As I did so, I reached beneath her with my free hand and sought out her clit, caressing tenderly. Amelia was shivering a little now and moaning softly. The hot, wet walls of her pussy clenched spasmodically down on my fingers and then she came, hard and fast.

Panting a little, Amelia turned over and hugged me tight. "I told you you'd be okay," she said and kissed me full on the mouth.

A little later we slept, arms around each other.

Yeah, that sure seems like heaven to me

I was awakened by Amelia sliding out of the bed, obviously trying not to disturb me. The bedroom was flooded with daylight, casting a rich glow over the crimson carpet and bedspread, and I guessed it was getting late.

Amelia slipped on a robe then bent to give me a good-morning kiss. "I didn't mean to disturb you but now you're awake, it's after ten and you've got to drive to your parents' place. Grab a shower and come on down to the cottage. I'll have breakfast ready for you."

While showering I did some serious thinking. I was in love with a woman and I'd made love with her and slept with her. Did that make me a lesbian? Or was it Amelia alone that affected me this way? My thoughts drifted to The Blue Mood Wine Bar and Marnie, something that I had put firmly from my mind for years until very recently when events triggered memories. Was I in some kind of closet and had I put myself in there without realising? Frankly, at this moment, I didn't have a clue as to how to label myself.

I stepped out of the shower and as I dried my body I noticed that on top of the clothing in Amelia's laundry basket was a lacy thong, probably chucked there the previous night when she stripped to show me her tattoos. On impulse I picked up the thong and held it to my nose. Its smell was delightful, an exotic mixture of woman musk and Amelia's favoured perfume, L'eau Bleue. God! I was standing there sniffing another woman's underwear. Did this make me some kind of pervert? I was baffled, couldn't answer my own question.

Amelia had greeted me with another kiss when I came into the cottage but as we ate breakfast she seemed to become serious. "Did you really enjoy last night, Jessie?"

"More than I can tell you," I said.

"So did I. But I've been thinking. There's something we have to talk about." Her tone was such that I suddenly had a sick feeling and I thrust my food to one side. Amelia reached across to take my hand. "Jessie, I've known what I am since before I was a teenager. I'm a lesbian through and through, and I honestly believe that deep down you are too. I've got pretty good gaydar and I'm rarely mistaken. However, I get the impression that you haven't quite accepted it in yourself. Am I right?"

I lowered my eyes. "I don't know... I don't honestly know..." A sudden lump in my throat seemed to get bigger and it was hard to speak. "...all I know for sure is that I'm in love with you."

Amelia nodded slowly. "Thank you for that, Jessie. But I'd be much happier if you could decide one way or another what your sexuality is. I'd rather lose you now and be unhappy for a while than lose you at a much later date and break my heart totally. I've had that once, with Anneka, I don't want to go there again. Jessie, I'd like you to go away from here today and have a long, hard think. If you can recognise and accept your gayness, then you'll make me happy beyond words. If you decide that the straight world is for you, then I'll accept that."

The dam burst then and I was hugged against Amelia as my tears flowed. She soothed me gradually until I was able to speak. "If that's what you want, Amelia, I guess it makes some kind of sense..."

On the way to my parents' home I had to pull into a lay-by and have another little weep. I acknowledged, though, that Amelia was being pragmatic—better to be sure now than wreck things in some unforeseen future...

* * * * *

I was in the habit of going to the same little place each day for my lunch because their coffee beat places like Starbucks hands down and they served delicious sandwiches and pastries—hurrah for private enterprise. The only thing I didn't care for about the coffee shop was a young waiter who worked there part-time, about three days a week. I think his name was Kenny. Perhaps nineteen or twenty, he was tall and good-looking and judging by his self-satisfied smirk he obviously thought he was God's gift. I'd heard him making risqué remarks to some of the younger female customers a few times, usually picking on the more wimpy or timid-looking types, seemingly getting a big kick out of embarrassing them. Classic bully. He never did it when the manager was around nor did he try it with the tougher-looking girls or those women apparently over twenty-one—if he'd tried it on with me I'd have had his balls for earrings.

Whenever possible I took a window seat and people-watched. Then a couple of days following my visit to Amelia's windmill I slowly became aware that while I was watching the passers-by in the street outside I never looked at any of the passing men, only women. And the more I thought about it, the more I realised it had always been that way. How was it that I'd never noticed before? Was I hiding some deep-down truth from myself?

Suddenly my thinking went up a gear or two. This wasn't just about gender and sex; more importantly it was about emotions and emotional connection. I had never felt such connection with any of the men I'd been involved with—I was trying to conform, to be 'normal', whatever that is, while they to a man had seemingly been concerned only with their own gratification. With Amelia... yes, with Amelia the emotional connection was there. In the long term it wouldn't have mattered a damn to me if we hadn't made love that night, just being with her would have been sufficiently rewarding. And I'd stood there in her bathroom, breathing in the natural scent on her panties—how straight a woman did that make me? My call now, no-one else could make this decision for me...

With realisation came the echoes of others' words, both long past and recent:

...it's okay, Jessie, I understand. It took me quite a few years to recognise and accept my sexuality...

...darling, have you ever considered that perhaps you're not made for men...?

...are you out yet, Jessie? You know... out... to your family. About being gay...

...when we shook hands I'm sure I felt something between us...

...you need to be careful, Jessica Thorne. I've only known you a couple of hours but I think I could easily fall in love with you...

Another minor memory crowded in. That time I'd written a flippant answer on the lavatory wall to the graffito about the mother making the daughter a lesbian. "If I supply the material, will she make me one too?" Was that my subconscious trying to tell me something?

Coming out... is it possible to come out to yourself? I think it might be. Finally I was ready to accept it... I was gay... really, really gay...

That was one hell of a revelation. What was it that old Greek guy did? Ran round the town naked shouting "Eureka!" I sure as hell wouldn't get away with that these days and it was too bloody cold anyway. But mentally I was "Eureka-ing!" with any number of old Greeks, naked or otherwise.

"Miss... miss!" An anxious-sounding voice snapped me out of my trance. A pretty young waitress stood by my table, a concerned look on her face. "Are you all right, Miss? You haven't moved for about ten minutes, you've just been staring out of the window. I thought maybe you were ill..."

"No, I'm fine..." Her name tag read Nessie. "...I'm fine thanks, Nessie." I gave her a confidential smile. "Sorry if I worried you, I've just been working round a personal problem and think I've found the answer."

"Oh, that's good," she said, relieved. Then she bent towards me and confided: "I wish I could get rid of my personal problem."

"What's that? Perhaps I can help."

She jerked her head towards Kenny who was serving coffee at the counter. "He's always pressing up against me," Nessie whispered, "pushing at me with his... you know... I complained to the boss once but Kenny insisted it was an accident while we were so busy. I need this job so I don't want to make too much fuss. Jobs for young people in this area are a bit scarce right now."

I felt for her. Another nervous youngster having to let a sleazeball get away with it. "If your boss won't help, you could complain to the police or go to a counsellor although it would still be your word against his," I told her. She shook her head, obviously scared of either idea, so I added: "Tell you what, the next time he does it, why not accidentally spill a cup of hot coffee on his... you know.... Works a treat. Do it over his apron and clothing so you don't cause too much damage. Just don't be obvious about it." I handed her a business card. "The company I work for is looking for several junior clerks and the pay's probably better than here. Give them a call and speak to Jayne North, say I recommended you."