Won't You Smile Awhile For Me

Maybe, thought Sara, maybe it was her plan all along to get me to give her a massage. Maybe she just wanted to receive one herself, for a change. Whatever her motives, Sara was really getting into it. She slathered the lotion all over the tops and soles, the arches and insteps, the balls and heels, pressed her fingers into her just a little harder, tightening and loosening her grip, tracing clockwise circles with her thumbs, spreading the toes apart to ease her fingers between them (which made Melleny giggle a little herself), lifting her ankles to get under the backs of her heels, and looked back at Melleny's face to again see how she was doing.

Mel's eyes had fluttered closed—almost. She was gazing through her eyelashes at nothing. She looked even more serene and at peace than before. Wow, I must be pretty good at this...at least a little better than I thought. She couldn't help grinning at her newly discovered skill. She was sure she wasn't anywhere as good as Melleny, but she must have had at least some talent.

Sara thought she had put the fatigued Melleny to peaceful slumber until a few minutes later when another new song on the CD started. Mel's eyes popped back open.

"Oh my God, I love this song!" she told Sara, pointing to the TV. "That's...that's..." She snapped her fingers, trying to think of it. "SHOOT! What is that? I know I've heard it, but I can't recognize it!"

"'Miss Chatelaine.'"

"Right! Of course!" Melleny said. "And...oh, God...who sings it again?"

"Kathryn Dawn Lang," Sara informed her again.

"Oh—" Melleny pretended to smack herself in the face. "DUH! k.d. lang! Holy cr—how the hell could I not remember that??"

"And you call yourself a lesbian," Sara teasingly chided her, scoldingly poking her soles, making her snicker. She was of course just kidding, as she was sure there were lots of (particularly younger) other lebbis who also didn't know her favorite singers and artists. But because her knowledge and love of pop music was so expansive, it was difficult for her to imagine others didn't feel the same. Plus which, Melleny had just told her she loved this song.

"I know," Mel groaned with a smile, playing along. "Demerits, Melleny!" she admonished herself. "Then again, I am also about to hit my 30s...God, maybe I'm just getting old."

They finished unisonously laughing and started singing along with the music. "Just a kiss...just a kiss...I have lived just for this..." At which point Sara's voice grew more energetic. "IIIIII...can't explain...why I've becoooooome, Miiiiiiss Chatelaine..." She took a deep breath and starting belting out, "Just a smile...just a smile...hold me capt—"

She stopped when she looked back over. Melleny, whose feet Sara'd temporarily stopped rubbing, was staring at her with wide eyes and an amused expression.

Sara was caught in the "act," as it were. "Sorry," she said matter-of-factly. "That's another thing about me, I guess you can tell: I love singing. And really really loud, too. I mean, I couldn't do it professionally—for a lot of reasons—but I still consider myself pretty okay at it, and it just makes me feel so good."

"Ye—I can see," Mel remarked with a nod. Sara was about to return to rubbing her feet, but Melleny bent her knees and lifted them off the towel. "Okay, I think that's good," she decided, curling and flexing them, manually asking Sara for the towel on her lap. She slipped the towel back under her feet, on the cushion, and sat up.

Just as with realizing she'd taken off her sweater, Sara felt a little sad, having very much enjoyed massaging her feet, but not that sad. The way things were going and as much as she liked Melleny and hoped Melleny liked her, she had a feeling she'd be able to do this again as well.

Sara drummed on her now unoccupied thighs. "Okay, so...what do you wanna do now?"

"Hm..." Melleny played with her hair again. "I'm actually kinda starting to get hungry...but not for chocolate, for real food."

"Aha. You don't want dessert now; you want actual dinner."

"Right."

"Okay! You want me to order a pizza?"

"Oh, that would only be divine..." Mel sighed. Sara snatched the phone, which was also on the table with the candles and candy.

"...A woman after my own heart," Melleny added.

Just as she picked it up and heard this comment, Sara briefly turned back to her to exchange a mutual glance of fondness with her. A phrase with a possible double meaning, Sara thought. She dialed the pizza parlor.

***

December 11th, 8:07 p.m.

The sun had been down for about three hours. At thirty degrees, it was still flurrying outside. Sara and dozens of her neighbors had their Christmas lights plugged in, many also with trees visible in the windows. Inside the house, they were lying on their bellies on Sara's picnic blanket on the floor of the living room, letting their feet dangle in the air behind them, watching a funny Christmas movie, giggling together, enjoying the musical sound of each other's laughs. Sara'd ordered them a medium pizza with everything, of which they had put away three quarters, the remaining fourth in the box also on the blanket. As Sara had just gone over to Jake's place three days before to watch TV with him, she'd taken the blanket back to her place, which they had spread out on the floor.

Sara couldn't believe how good she was feeling about how this evening had gone. Spending these last four brief hours with Melleny had restored a lot of confidence in herself and her dating abilities, and indicated to her that she was more of a catch than she'd thought. Yet, she had some sense. She knew nothing was absolutely 100% flawlessly perfect, nor was any person, but as dates went, Melleny was looking pretty good to her; if not 100%, Sara so far was putting her upwards of at least the 80s.

However, as great as she felt about this event, it was driving her equally as nuts on the inside not knowing what Melleny was feeling about it all and dying to find out. She could ask her harmless questions and chip away at the answer that way...though direct, blunt questions like, "So, do you like me??" or "What are you doing for the rest of the year??" seemed very forward and could easily scare a new mate away. If Melleny really truly liked her, even questions like those would cause no real damage, but that was a big chance which Sara wasn't yet ready to take.

She could, however, pose normal, innocuous inquiries that would lead her towards the truth regarding Mel's feelings about the whole thing—such as, "So, how are you feeling?" or "What do you like to usually do on dates?" or "What do you think might be fun if or when we might see each other again?" or even "So what turns you on in a girl?" It might also be a good idea to throw in something like, "You can tell me the truth if it's something about me, really, even if it's not the nicest thing in the world; my feelings won't be hurt," just for good measure.

A hundred questions with varying degrees of intimacy were racing around her brain. For now, until she chose a suitable one to start peeling away the layers and get to the facts, she went with—

"You want any more?" referring to the pizza.

Mel stretched out on the blanket and let out another yawn. "Oh, no, please, thank you, Sara, that was wonderful. I'm stuffed."

Sara pushed herself to her feet and grabbed the box with the two remaining slices. "Me too. All right, I'm putting the rest in the fridge." Doing so, she called back to her from the kitchen, "Anything else I can get you? Or do for you? Or...anyth—...?"

Her lips and tongue finished, but her larynx went off duty as she returned to the darkened living room—illuminated only by the TV screen (and her Christmas tree on the other side of the room)—to see that her date had...yes, she had. She'd fallen asleep on the blanket. She was on her side, one arm outstretched under her head, serving as a pillow, the other tucked under her breasts.

Instead of feeling disappointed or let down at all, Sara just melted a little inside with affection, watching her. It was clear she had drifted off to unconsciousness. Her stomach was pushing out and in at a steady slow pace, her head was tilted downwards into her elbow, her mouth was frozen half-open, and her breathing was bordering on a very light, silent snore. All telltale signs, and coupled with the fact that Mel had told her she'd only slept three and a half hours the previous night, it wasn't very hard for Sara to arrive at this conclusion. She knew the pizza also played a part in it. The chocolate had kept Melleny awake, but any time Sara herself too had a big plate of some delicious Italian food—especially pizza, or lasagna—her full tummy also mellowed her into drowsiness.

She took the remote control and lowered the TV volume all the way down to mute, but didn't turn the set off just yet. As she also actually wound up doing this quite a bit with Jake, she grabbed one of the afghan comforters on the couch, unfurled it from its folded form into a blanket and slipped it over Melleny's slumbering body, up to her shoulder. Now came into play the reason she'd left the TV on. She laid down on her side as well, facing Mel, propping the side of her head up on her arm so she could watch her sleep.

"I really like you, Melleny," Sara told her quietly. She couldn't exactly say everything to her she wanted to in her awakened state, clearly, but her being asleep presented no problems. She whispered her thoughts in the sleeping girl's direction. "At least I think I do. And I really hope you like me too. This has actually been one of the nicest nights I've had in a long time—well, with another woman, I should say. I'm just...so glad you came up to me and asked me to call you. You're really pretty...and the part of you I've gotten to know today's really sweet and nice. And you look like an angel just sleeping there like that...like you should have a slumber halo over your head.

"Of course, my very nice afghans help too," she chuckled to herself.

There in her quiet house that evening, she eventually also got herself a pillow and an afghan and again laid down next to Melleny, just watching her peaceably dozing on her floor, making out the subtle nuances in her face from the TV glow. Part of Sara wished Melleny was awake so she could work up the courage to say what she wanted to say for her to hear it, and part of her was glad she was asleep because it meant she was spending at least part of the night at Sara's house, which Sara very much liked. Unless of course Mel was an avid sleepwalker, which she doubted.

The pizza had been pretty filling, and taken its toll on Sara's energy too. It wasn't too much longer before that, combined with watching her date sleeping, feeding the idea into her mind, Sara began to drift off herself. The carbo-loaded pizza had also done just the opposite to their subconscious minds, stirring them up to intensify what would be going on inside their dreams.

Neither of them in a hundred years could have guessed what the next several hours held in store for them.

***

December 12th, 1:11 a.m.

Sara yawned, stretched and sat up, facing away from the TV. Unable to see anything but darkness beyond a few feet in her direction, she turned back around. The Christmas tree was lit up, but stood on the other side of the room. She looked at the TV. Still no sound, but that was status quo, as she remembered muting it. What disturbed her a little was that the picture was distorted and she couldn't recognize anything on it. She almost became a little weirded out, until she dropped her eyes to the floor to see both Melleny's and her own bodies, still on the floor, fast asleep.

Again, as always, it took a moment, but she realized what was going on. She looked down at herself—not her physical body on the floor, but the semi-conscious form of her that had just sat up. It was ghostly and transparent. Of course! she thought, I'm Dream-Sara right now. Now she recollected something she hadn't for the last three weeks since her birthday. When Dream-Velette (who when Sara was unconscious became her sleep goddess) appeared in her mind—in her birthday dream as well as every time she'd dreamt about Her before—She was also visible but translucent.

Of course, it felt as real as any other dream, and now, incapable of recalling if Melleny was actually (in real life) still in her house or not, Sara could only hope so. How fortunate, she thought, that she should have a dream taking place in her own home, continuing in real time from where her conscious mind had left off, the same night—she presumed it was the same night, anyhow; the Christmas tree was still there—with her date, Melleny Hayes, still asleep next to her.

Her dream form closed her eyes. Melleny? she thought.

Yes? came the telepathic response.

She opened them. To her delight, there sat Dream-Melleny, right beside her, also ghostly translucent, both of them now sitting on the floor, casting invisible shadows over their respective sprawled bodies.

"Oh my gosh!" Dream-Sara exclaimed, throwing her arms around Dream-Mel. "This is so cool! We're in my dream!" she exclaimed when they broke from the hug.

"Holy smoke," said Melleny, "But...should we be just...talking like normal?" she asked, meaning as opposed to whispering. "It seems like we might wake ourselves up."

Sara, since her lucid encounter with Dream-Velette three weeks ago, had done some reading and learned a thing or two about life in Subconsciousland. She assured her, "No, no, it's totally okay; it's all in our heads. We're not real, Melleny—or at least our dream-selves aren't real. And our physical selves can't be woken up by something that doesn't exist. Watch this." She leaned down over her own body and shouted, "SEE?! WE CAN YELL AS LOUD AS WE WANT AT OURSELVES, AND IT STILL WON'T WAKE US UP!!"

Her body remained asleep.

"Whoa!" said Melleny. "Wild!"

"I know, right?" Sara replied excitedly. "Lucid dreaming is the ultimate surreal experience. Everybody should get to try it." She rolled her eyes. "God, I sound like I should be advertising it on TV."

Dream-Melleny couldn't understand all the details of what exactly was going on here, but it seemed pretty cool to her, if a little bizarre. Something jumped down from the coffee table and walked past them, illuminated by the TV. It had orange fur and green paws. Melleny became alarmed seeing it. "What's that??" she desired to know.

"That's Dewdrop, my dream-cat," Sara explained, giving him a stroke. "His fur changes colors at random."

"Well, I'll be damned," Melleny muttered. "We really are in a dream, aren't we..."

"Not only that, if we close our eyes..." Sara told her, pausing excitedly for effect, "...we can even read each other's minds."

"Shut up!" said Mel. They closed their eyes.

See?

WHOA...freaky!

Yeah...and the freakiest part is, Melleny, NONE of this is actually happening. I mean, hypothetically speaking, we could do anything right now. We could run barefoot through the snow...we could imagine Velette's here singing for us...we could rob a bank and get away with it—not that I'm the type to do that, but—hell...we could even make love if we felt like it.

...REALly?...

The inflection in Melleny's reaction glittered with intrigue.

Well, sure...and I mean, we wouldn't have to worry about anything like where it has to lead, or drama, or bed death, nothing! That's the best part, is that we can talk about this stuff right now and not have it mean anything we don't want it to. I can tell you the truth right now, Melleny, that I couldn't tell you when we were awake. I think I really like you, Melleny. I mean, REALLY really like you. You're pretty, you're nice, you're fun, you have a good sense of humor and we seem to have quite a bit of good stuff in common. And your smile just...well...blows me away. The impulsive part of me wants to tell you that this is the best first date I've ever had. And again, there's no need to worry about being too forward or moving too fast in our dreams, so, if you'll forgive my impetuousness...that side of me also wants to kiss you right now.

Melleny smiled, indeed blowing Sara away.

...I believe I like that idea, Sara...

They both opened their eyes to see one another's lust-tinged beaming faces. They scooted closer and leaned in, attaching their hands to each other's bodies in a delicate embrace. The sensations and realizations accelerated their heartbeats, and finally, each inhaling the other's warm breath, all four velvety soft lips achieved contact.

A mutual, simultaneous sigh emanated from their lungs, as the first kiss charged them mentally and physically, sending crackles of romantic sensuality radiating throughout both of them. The next sounds they made were very different. Melleny's was an overwhelmed squeal of passion, Sara's a hungry growl. Their hands eagerly searched and explored each other's flesh, fingers and palms extending the tactile pleasure of the moment yet further. At last, their lips detached like suction cups.

As it went without saying, their breathing had hastened considerably.

"Well...THAT happened..." Sara palpably stated. She indicated down to their slumbering bodies on the floor. "Look! Look at our faces now. We're smiling in our sleep!"

"Yeah...let's make that happen again."

Sara grinned at her. "I like a woman who goes after what she wants," she commented.

Hearts bursting through their chests, longing to touch, they initiated kiss number two. Instinctively incorporating the French element, they opened up and let their tongues tango. Both delighted in the sumptuous taste, bringing yet another sense onboard. They breathed deeply through their noses as they nuzzled them together. Their hands meandered and roamed each other even more adventurously than before, finding their ways under and inside layers of clothing. The feel of hot skin on hot skin sent sparks shooting from them. It didn't take long to escalate to the next level. Twenty seconds in, eyes closed, telepathically communicating—

Get on your feet, Melleny. Stand up with me. I am taking you to my room. To my generous, king-size bed. That is NOT a request.

Melleny was instantly turned on by her authoritativeness. Yes ma'am.

Lips practically glued together, Sara and Melleny fumbled to their feet, groping and gasping. Sara took Mel by the hands and led her, walking backwards, down the hall to her room. She pushed the door open with her behind and they stumbled in. Hormones were zipping through the air, hints of perspiration were materializing.

Sara forced herself to pry her lips off Melleny long enough to say, "...Count of three...shirts come off. Deal?"

"Sounds good."

"One...two...three."

In a quick, fluid motion, Sara and Melleny both took hold of their shirts around the hems, paused the kissing, whipped them over their heads and off their bodies, let them fall where they would, and resumed making out like teenagers. They did a modicum of feeling about for the bearings of the bed, and lowered themselves on it together. Finally stationed at their base, they seized each other and commenced to surfing the mattress, generating waves through it.

The only word that came to Melleny's mind to say out loud between their fiery kisses was, "Damn."

"Why, thank you, honey," Sara sultrily replied.

After a few more minutes, mutually green-lighting one another, they further undressed each other. Sara's nomadic hands found the back of Melleny's bra and Melleny found hers, and they unhooked them together. And Sara was able to capture the bosomy warmth of Mel's breasts on her. Sara liked them rather sizable, and Melleny's were fortuitously a cup size larger than her own. Sara twisted and turned her body, grinding their chests together.