The older women took their seats, leaving them to return to the car, the day's lingering heat still caressing them. Dusk finally over, the moon sailed low through the treetops, against the sky's mantle of night. The lights of the city sprang up as the cars and bikes proceeded slowly through the exit.
âHome then?' Sidonie asked, following the flow north on Pape, to the Danforth.
âI guess it has been a long day,' she admitted reluctantly. Really, she agreed with Reine, the night was still young.
Sidonie headed for Spadina and it seemed no time at all they were outside #226. She had twice squeezed through on yellow lights, her profile grim and impatient. Tenille turned to her driver when the car stopped, removing her hat, making it plain to see the shiver and shake of the glossy curls, falling from the bandana, still tied at the back. The simplicity of the style dramatized her exquisite bone structure and in the pale light of the car's interior, her face had a luminous, pearl-tinted glow. It was a face of infinite sensitivity and it had been haunting Sidonie, night after night. She watched the full lips, glistening and dusky red as they formed the words, feeling her temperature rising as her stomach clenched with excitement.
âWould you like to come in for coffee ⦠or a cold drink? My place isn't much, but I do have a kitchen.' She said no more, watching Sidonie's face as her heart started its pounding again; holding her breath, she waited for the reply.
“Relax Ten, you're behaving as though your life depends on this answer. Stop being silly,”
she castigated herself, sharply.
Sidonie cleared her throat and found her voice. It came out hoarse and thickened. This invitation would make it their first time alone.
âI'm ⦠I'm ⦠I need a shower and to change. I hate staying in this gear.'
âI've got one of those, too. You're welcome to use it.' Her voice changed. âIt's too late for you, isn't it,' more a statement than a question.
Sidonie's pulse rate had risen alarmingly with her changing emotions. She had not prepared herself for this and was floundering; out of her depth. Not like her. She could usually turn such offers to her advantage, no problem, but this was heavy weather.
âNo, it's not that. I don't want to intrude and you did say it's been a long day.' “
Darn. That was a good enough opening for her to say: âForget it'.”
Tenille laughed shakily, and untied her knotted fists. âYou wouldn't be intruding, as you put it. I just invited you in for a drink that's all.' She stopped her nervous laughter. “
Was that all?”
âOK. Done.' She gave a tight smile, but spoke decisively, not wanting to risk a change of heart. She cut the motor and jumped out briskly to the trunk for her bag. Swiftly they were walking to the front door.
âIs that you
, Cara
?' Serafina's voice called out.
âYes, Mrs. Sandrelli. I've just invited Sidonie in for a coffee.' She knew she didn't have to explain to her, but somehow had felt unsure. Better to be up front.
âOf course. Is nice you have friends to visit.' Mrs. Sandrelli appeared in person this time and looked Sidonie up and down. âDid you have a good game?'
âYes, thank you,' she replied as they proceeded down the stairs.
Tenille unlocked the door and they stood for a moment on the threshold, weak at the knees. Inside, she dropped her stuff on the bed and Sidonie looked about with interest. Clothes were scattered in disarray. A warm room; the dressing table strewn with scarves, ribbons and lotions. So feminine. Very different from her barrack-like neatness. She liked the cuddly bear on the bed.
âSorry about the mess, I usually am more tidy, but I wanted to be sure not to be late,' Tenille excused herself.
âIt's OK. I like the look of your place. It feels lived in ⦠and it's you.'
âThe shower's through there. You'll see the towels. Want a robe?'
âNo, I've got all I need with me, thanks.'
âVery well. I'll make us coffee and some space to sit while you freshen up. Or would you like something cold?'
âCoffee's fine.'
She disappeared into the bathroom and noticed that, in contrast to the main bachelor apartment, this room was sparse. Nothing was displayed on the surfaces, but then, there were very few on which to place clutter. She looked up at the hot air balloon with its jolly passengers. Yes, she could see how she would go for something like that.
As she undressed she was overcome by a feeling of acute embarrassment. Strange ⦠she stood alone in a private space. But she was naked, while just the other side of the partition Tenille was fully clothed. She felt vulnerable; not at ease in this situation. She would keep her showering to a minimum and when she emerged, feel happy to be once again clean and smelling fresh. A well needed boost to her confidence. Funny, she wasn't usually lacking in that department.
“Tenille
,
what have you done to me?”
In the short time left to her, Tenille rushed about like the mad woman of Challiot. Seeing her room through Sidonie's eyes had shocked her. Clothes left in piles on seats; dressing table scattered all over with stuff; underwear on view. By the time the whistle blew the bed was clear; dirty laundry in the hamper and shoes back in the closet, albeit tossed at random.
She liked plunger coffee and soon the exotic aroma of Columbian beans was wafting through the room. When Sidonie joined her she was wearing white duck jeans and a pale blue tank top. It reflected the color of her eyes and seemed to intensify their blueness, in contrast with the fairness of her hair that looked to have been sprinkled with a scattering of gold.
Tenille involuntarily caught her breath as she looked at her, as though for the first time. Raw need spiralled down to stab into her secret centre. The impact of desire gave her involuntary contractions and she could not prevent the rush of this fiery sensation, as it shot through her, from staining her cheeks. Her need for this girl had never been more acute. She had never known a physical response such as this. Without even being touched. Without a kiss. She could fall to the bed in a helpless wanting and let, no ⦠beg for her to cover her body with that tight pelvis and those finely proportioned limbs. She would clasp that rounded ass in both hands and kneed the flesh 'til she achieved the sweet release she craved.
âCoffee's ready,' throat so tight the words could barely come out. Swallowing deeply, she looked down at the counter, hooding her eyes with her thick lashes, hiding the naked passion reflected there. âJust how you like it, no sugar and milky.' She carried the mugs to the coffee table with excessive care. Sidonie had taken her one chair, so she took the end of the bed, the table filling in the corner between them.
Sidonie sipped the coffee, the hot liquid burning her throat. Her eyes couldn't get past the fact that tonight Tenille's full breasts were unbound and lay unusually exposed beneath the thin muslin of her shirt, as she followed their quick rise and fall. Nor could the patch pockets hide the dark flushing of the areolas around the nipples. She felt her own respond to her desire. She wished she had on something less clinging, but she'd never expected to be in this situation. Now perspiration trickled down her neck and between her breasts, making the top cling to her, revealingly. They would have gone with the others if Reine hadn't gotten her so mad. She didn't know what to do; what to say.
âOh, hot.' she exclaimed as the coffee again touched her lip.
âSorry. Didn't I put enough milk in?' Jumping up to remedy the situation, she headed for the fridge.
Sidonie leaped to her feet, came up behind her as she stood facing the counter, milk carton in hand. She stepped closer until she could feel the heat radiating from her body. That close, but not touching.
âTenille.' she said thickly.
She froze, the carton still on the counter.
âTenille â¦' she said again, an urgent note to her husky voice, as she took one more step closer still. Tenille's back was to her. She placed her hands on the counter, on either side.
She could feel the pressure of Sidonie's breasts, sending her senses reeling, as hot color rushed to her neck; only the slightest movement against her butt, as Sidonie brushed her pelvis against her. Her thighs down the back of her own, radiated heat. Her breathing, already ragged, became shallower, almost to panting. This was so much what she had wanted, what she had craved.
Gently, the carton was removed from her grasp and Sidonie's right arm circled around her body below her breasts. Each one felt ready to break apart at the nipple, if this girl did not hold and lull them with her caresses. But she did not move her hand. Instead, she circled her left arm in front, across her shoulders, above her breasts. She tightened her grip, pinioning her between the counter and the length of her body. She was rapturous, pressing back, feeling the hardness of her pelvis into her backside. Shock rocked her. She wanted to be taken; wanted to be brought to the climax she knew was within her, but was never able to achieve.
âA..ah Sid â¦' she sighed on a breathless, awe-struck whisper.
âThere there,' she murmured, as lightly she brushed the dark brown hair with her lips, still moving gently against her.
âWould you like to turn around?' the grasp released slightly, to let her move within her encircling arms. Slowly, she turned round, one step at a time, aware of her body in this close contact, her movements causing frissons of electric sensation through both their bodies, they were so feather light. She stopped when she faced the girl, her back tight against the counter. Sid took a step out, breaking the contact. She could not bear it; felt deserted and yearned for that touch again. She reached out, both arms going up round her neck, then her fingers entwined in the ash-blond hair as she drew her close. Once more, Sid was pressing against her inflamed body and a cry escaped her lips, the longing in her voice unmistakable. Sid knew it was there, as intense as her own, but she could do so little about it here. She thought: “
We have to find a place.”
She pressed Ten closer to her, folding their bodies like two soft clay figurines into one. With her legs apart, she straddled Ten's thighs and thrust her pelvis once more against her, this time searching for the guiding channel that would lead to her clitoris. The thin muslin of the skirt easily yielded to her exploring bone. At least she could help assuage some of the desperation she saw in this woman's face. She worked herself in closer toward the centre of Ten's desire. She could feel more than hear, her ecstatic moans. When she judged she had reached as deep as she could, she took her hand from around Tenille's waist and cupped the back of her head and neck, tilting her face towards hers.
âI have wanted you so much. You don't know how I have craved to feel the softness of your lips with mine ⦠like this.' She brought her mouth to Ten's and for the first time experienced the delicious reality of that kiss, only longingly imagined. The yielding softness of those hot lips sent ripples of pleasure pulsating through her, her senses spinning into some distant vortex of desire. Those full lips were moist and eager. She kissed her gently, with great reverence, savoring the pleasure of the contact, letting the sensuality of the kiss suffuse through her body, until her clitoris was so hard she could not hold back from moving against Ten's soft, yielding flesh, almost without knowing. She felt Ten move her pelvis against her, but too much, too wild. She drew back from the kiss.
âEasy Babe ⦠I will bring it to you. No need to chase.'
She stilled her movements, not wanting to, but trusting her urgency to Sid's safe keeping. She gave herself up to this girl, to command her body as she would. The next kiss drew the breath out of her and something more, as gently, oh so softly, Sid began to move with slow rhythmical rotations, bringing her pelvis against Ten enough to enhance the feeling, not so much to send it skittering away. Sid experienced at last, that wonderful sense of fulfilment, giving to this most precious of women the ultimate pleasure. She revelled in the knowledge that it lay within her capability. It would be her skill that would make Ten feel so good. She wanted this above all. This power made her feel truly alive. A sweet living dominance to which she knew, Ten was willing to surrender. Paramount was pleasuring the woman she loved, her own satisfaction secondary to this.
She kissed her again as she whispered her name against her mouth and this time slightly parted her lips to let Ten experience the muscle of her tongue. She met her lips hungrily and opened her mouth in response, the kiss lingering as Sid's tongue continued to graze. They lost themselves in that kiss, their bodies moving together unheeded, in rhythmical motion, its roots reaching back to primordial time, the contact unable to be broken until the final explosion. Sid felt Ten's body stiffen. She knew it would be soon. She kept her mouth captive and began the ascent to the top; an increasing tempo as now she thrust. Not too hard, this would be a gentle assault to take her to her womanly core. A soft climax, enough to hold her until she could give her total release. Ten's breathing increased. She pulled her head away and rested it on Sidonie's shoulder.
âYes,' she breathed. âOh yes.'
She strained toward her, absolutely still, concentrating everything into her response to Sid. She balanced for a timeless moment on the edge, then finally it arrived, a gradual, sweeping surge reverberating through her body in a shattering release like she had never known, leaving her blissfully demulcent. She sighed against Sid's neck, the hot tears of emotion stinging her eyelids.
âCome and lie down,' her lover instructed. She followed shakily. Looking down Sid said: âI hate to do this to you, but it's after eleven and I have a long drive. Will you be OK?'