âI'm not sure exactly what time I'll be there because I've only just woken up. Now you're sure it's OK? You didn't have plans already?'
âSure. Sure ⦠I'm sure. We'll see you when we see you. Hey, Eddie wants to know if you'll have dinner with us. It'll be no trouble. It's just our usual goulash. As you know from before, she always makes lashings.'
She hung up, happy to be sampling Edina's delicious cooking again. Getting together what she would need, plus a change for later, she realized it would have to be a âmiss' for Volleyball. The team would be grumpys, but this was too important. Normally âa regular', just this once they could manage without her. She would make it up next time.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Tenille had awakened very late to the low moan of a gentle wind, and the soft drumming of spring rain. Despite the long sleep she was in no hurry to move, but there was much to be done and she should get up. Instead, she stretched out then rolled over, remembering Sidonie's hands as they had deftly fixed her tie. She should stir herself. She gave another stretch and curled up again. She felt the need to be close to her; picturing her in her mind's eye was not enough. She needed to get to the gym; see her in the flesh.
“Oh, Sidonie. What have you done to me?”
she reflected dreamily, stifling a sigh. Before, she had thought it was just a âone time thing' with Devon, but now, here she was with her heart twisting into an untidy ravelling with an unbearable longing to see this girl again. She rolled onto her back and stared at the white ceiling, seeing that youthful face smiling down at her. This was the motivation she needed ⦠into the shower. Suddenly, there was no time for anything and everything was a rush.
Hot water jetted onto her body as she stood within the steamy confines of the shower recess. How wonderful it would be if this were the two of them. There wouldn't be room enough. They'd keep bumping into each other. She laughed. Wouldn't that be fun. Vigorously drying, she assessed her body critically in the mirror. For the first time she wondered if Sidonie âliked women'. Devon enjoyed women, but this girl was not the least like her.
“Don't they say mannish women like feminine women?”
she speculated as she rubbed. She started to dress; only a cosy sweater over jeans, the day would have warmed up considerably. Continuing her train of thought she reflected:
“I wonder, do they ever say that married women like mannish women? Perhaps what they should ask is ⦠do married and now separated women like mannish women?”
She finished up and put on her joggers, sure if asked, she could answer affirmatively. At this she laughed out loud and continued to muse:
“No, that's not true. She just likes this one particular woman ⦠girl,”
she corrected herself
. “I wonder how old she is? I'd like her to say mid-twenties, but I fear she's a lot younger.”
Her purse checked for money, she picked up the list to shoot over to Dominion. A coffee and doughnut at Country Style when she was done would be good. She called out to Mrs Sandrelli who was hanging out laundry. The day had warmed up and a brisk wind was sweeping away the rain clouds. It would be perfect for drying. She told her how the show had gone and basked in her praise.
Once round the corner, she floated along on winged feet to the store, polemical thoughts swirling in her head. No matter what Sidonie's age, she had to admit she found her enormously attractive. It was not the same as with Devon. She had wanted to get close to her; had been desperate about her; very emotional. This time she knew her attraction was powerfully physical.
“She has an animal magnetism. Her body is beginning to obsess me. I want to be near it all the time. I love to feel the heat from her body and to smell that clean, fresh soap smell she has.”
In retrospect she realized that last night she could have been wearing aftershave. The aroma had been undefinable, yet slightly astringent. She liked it. It didn't make her think âmasculine', like Old Spice. It had been a heady perfume of the type she wouldn't choose for herself. The recollection made her insides âturn-over', as if they had tightened momentarily upon themselves. She let out an involuntary âoh,' of surprise at the acuteness of the sensation. Painful, yet pleasant, as though falling into a perilous space with a soft landing.
“What was that?”
She would like to experience it again. Since she didn't know what had caused it, she couldn't bring it back.
Dominion was busy for a Sunday, but shopping for one allowed her to fill her cart quickly, especially having learned her lesson that first day; darned if she'd spend money on a taxi just for a few groceries. Passing through the checkout was a different matter. This took so long the visit to the doughnut store was out. It was straight for home.
Smiling faces greeted her at the gym.
âYou look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today, Tenille,' Shiralee, a recent member, observed as they were getting ready. Her anticipation at seeing Sidonie must be showing.
“Just slow down,”
she remonstrated.
Pushing open the door, her eyes immediately scanned the weights' room. She was not here. Just in case, she checked the exercise area. No sign. Disappointment was acute.
“She's always here on Sundays. She said so.”
Back to the stationary bicycle and peddling doggedly, she wondered what had happened.
“Perhaps last night was too late for her.”
On to the circuit routine. Access to equipment was easy today, only a handful of women working out. Still no sign. By now it was time for the pool. Her swimming had regained power and she was beginning to feel well coordinated; a smoother action flowing through her body. She noticed too, she was not puffing like a steam train at the end.
Tempted to check upstairs again, she then thought better of it. It was getting on for three o'clock; perhaps a few minutes in the sauna? She could be coming down for her swim by the time she came out.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Sidonie parked and hurried into the building. It was now three and she was pretty sure Tenille would be finished, if she'd made it to the gym at all. She would look in the register.
âPlease let her be here,' she repeated over and over, like a mantra. She turned the big book around to read the names, skimming downwards. âYes. She had been here, but was she still.' A quick look in the weights' room, although not really hopeful. âNope.' She clattered through the change room doors, dumped her grip on the bench and went to the pool.
âHot damn.' She was so mad with herself. âI've missed her.'
She began to get ready for her workout, pulling things out of the grip in manic fashion. As it was she would have to cut it short, she didn't want to be too late at Milka's.
She was just about to hurry upstairs when she heard her name called. Tenille's voice. She spun around, the look of relief crossing her face clearly visible to Tenille, as she stood in front of the sauna door, a towel draped around her body, clutched tightly at her breasts.
âI thought â¦' They both spoke at once as they walked towards each other. Then they laughed, happy and open; testament to their mutual pleasure.
âWere you just finishing or beginning?' Tenille asked, her eyes drinking in every detail of the virile physique in the skimpy outfit; the black one she liked so much, as though sight of her had been denied for weeks.
âJust arrived. I'm running late. I fell asleep after work.' Suddenly she didn't care whether she got to her workout or not. She just wanted to stay here. âI'll wait while you dress ⦠if you don't mind?' She dropped herself onto the bench. Tenille walked over to her spot on the bench opposite, the towel beginning to slip a little. She pulled it tighter.
âI don't want to hold you up,' she protested, not quite sure how to proceed. She turned her back to the onlooker and began to rub herself dry. Eventually she had to take the towel and dry her front. Sidonie stayed still on her bench, watching in silent appreciation. From a gently defined upper body, the rib cage tapered to a small waist. Unlike many women, the hips did not flare out, but stayed slim. Instead her bottom protruded, in two luscious mounds, skin smooth as a peach, but more tempting. She put her foot on the boards and proceeded to dry off. Dancing had given her legs good muscle development; strong without being bulky. She watched her put that leg down and the other one up. This time the top of her thigh revealed a slight hint of the dark bush between her legs. She felt her pulse race as heat rose within her and her chest tightened. In a position like this it would be so wonderful just to gently stroke that slit, surrounded by dark, glossy curls and then feel the wetness on her fingers. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, caught as it was in the fierceness of her desire and was relieved Tenille could not see that desire spilling out of her eyes.
Once Tenille had finished with the towel she began to dress. She would be relieved when she had her clothes on again. She hadn't looked at Sidonie the whole time, feeling too self-conscious. She slipped each foot delicately into the panty legs and pulled the thin fabric up over the curves of her buttocks. Sidonie watched the cover up with regret, but could still discern the dark shadow of the cleft through the whiteness of the gauze.
She picked up her bra and fastened it at the front then swung the cups around to fill each one with a breast. This she could only imagine as a strap was brought over the shoulder. At last Tenille turned around, the voluptuous fullness of her breasts hidden within the white lace, looking even more tempting. She wore an underwire, just covering the nipples, but the rich color of her aureoles was plainly visible.
Sidonie's eyes darkened and her nostrils flared in arousal. She dropped her gaze as Tenille said: âI'm glad to have this opportunity to thank you for your patience with me last night and I do apologize for keeping you up so late. It's put your schedule all out of kilter. I must have talked your ear off.'
She put on her jeans and as she bent over, Sidonie looked up. It was impossible not to expect those breasts, swelling and straining against their confining restraints, to fall right out. A film of perspiration dampened her face, as she became aware of the steady hammering of her heart.
âNow Tenille, don't start that again,' her voice thick and strange to her ears. âAs I recall, I talked just as much as you and I'm not thanking you for your patience, am I?' She kept her seat, but longed to move over and crush that tantalizing body against her own aching pelvis and pounding heart.
âNo ⦠Sorry.'
âJust dress now. I've got lots of time. The gym stays open 'til five-thirty.' This woman had better get covered soon or she would go crazy.
âYes.' She didn't mind the rebuke, becoming familiar with her ways.
As she watched, Tenille pulled on her sweater, which caught on the left breast and a groan almost escaped from Sidonie's depths. Tenille had to lift the sweater off and pull it over.
Soon now Tenille would be to her rehearsal and she to her weights, her body needing a punishing workout. Her swim would be fast and hard.
Time to say goodbye. Tenille hated to sever the contact, but she would be late as it was. She wanted to ask when she would see her again, but settled for a casual: âSee you Wednesday, eh?'
Sidonie nodded: âSure thing,' and turned abruptly, unable to watch her walk out the door.
En route for the subway, Tenille realized she had forgotten to tell Sidonie about Metro Caravan. Darn. She had wanted to invite her along. Well, it could wait 'til Wednesday. No harm done.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Lifting and swinging weights, Sidonie's mind also spun on the impact Tenille was having on her. She really wanted this woman in her life. She was captured beneath her spell, its potency irresistible. She was falling ⦠big time. She had to talk to Milka.
It was near to closing when she finally got away, but with Sunday traffic, she should be in Scarborough a little after six o'clock. The welcome that greeted her was worthy of the prodigal's return. No doubt about it, these women cared.
Milka settled her down with a beer. Too cool to sit on the patio, they kept Edina company in the kitchen. The house was a typical, small, two bedroom Scarborough box, with the postage stamp back yard and even smaller front. Most of the garden space was taken up with lawn which Milka seemed positively fanatical in maintaining, her edges always immaculate. She didn't move her sprinkler from front to back. No. She had two, always at the ready. In the fall, the perfection of the grass was not marred by even one crumpled leaf. Edina was cashiered to weed and prune the narrow borders. She didn't mind really, but sometimes on principle, put up a protest.
âSince you're already out there, why don't you do it.'
âI'm getting rid of the crab grass,' would be the inevitable reply.
It was therapeutic activity for Milka. She had a stressful job, being responsible for the sports section in Simpson's Scarborough Store and seven other staff who, being young, were not always reliable.
During dinner, which they also ate in the little kitchen, there was no pressure and Sidonie was content to listen. They were contemplating the AI procedure for Edina. They both loved children and came from big families themselves. Edina's parentage was Finnish. Her grandparents had emigrated to Canada, it being their third choice, during the big settlement of the 1920's. Her parents had been raised in Thunder Bay, but she herself was a true, born and bred Torontonian.
âWe had thought to go the more ordinary route of impregnation, but Eddie really isn't keen on this and since I wouldn't go through it myself, I don't consider it right to make her,' Milka explained.
âHow far along are you in your enquiries?' Sidonie loved children too, but had to admit, only in small doses.