I threw on a pair of jeans and a T shirt after Angela and I dried off. It was too early for bed, and I really did want to see the state of the remodel. I found Luisa in the kitchen, going over some filled-out forms.
“School stuff,” she said at my unspoken question. “The school year just started, but already there’s paperwork. I swear, there’s more to do outside of the classroom than there is inside.”
“Yeah, my mom teaches at the local community college,” I said, sympathizing. “She says every classroom hour is actually three hours of work.”
“That’s about right,” Luisa said, stacking the papers neatly. “So, ready for your tour?”
“Let’s start at the top,” I suggested.
“Well, no, let’s not, because the top means the new A/C units on the roof, and we don’t want to go up there,” Luisa said with a cheeky grin. “How about I show you what they did in Mia and my apartments, and work our way down?”
“Lead on, Macduff!” I said.
“And here I thought you’d told me your mom taught English literature,” Luisa said with a mock frown. “You know, that’s not actually the quote.”
As we waited for the elevator, I replied. “Ah, it’s a trick question- or something like that. The Hamlet quote is ‘Lay on, Macduff’ as a challenge to a fight, but in the book King Solomon’s Mines by H Ryder Haggard, a character misspeaks it as ‘Lead on, Macduff’ when they’re about to enter the place of death.”
“O.K., I take it back. You are the daughter of a book nerd,” Luisa said with a laugh.
“As you can tell, the elevator hasn’t been redone yet,” Luisa said as we creaked and rattled our way up to the second to top floor. “The elevator folks have come and taken all the measurements and whatever, and now they’re waiting on the special parts. Apparently wanting to keep the vintage car is the difficulty. If you were O.K. with a modern car, they could've had it done already.”
“I’m fine with waiting, as long as the restoration is done properly.”
“That’s what I told them. I made it clear the project was a restoration to historically accurate specs, and a modern elevator car would look ridiculous in this house,” Luisa confirmed.
The elevator took us to the sixth floor, then we walked up one more set of stairs to the topmost level. Luisa led me down the short hall to the deck facing the East River.
As we looked out at the evening view, Luisa said, “I love this out here, really. I spend a lot of time on this little deck, so I’ve been meaning to ask if we can set up some sort of retractable shade for when it’s too sunny.”
“Sure, I have no problem with that,” I said. "Talk to Charlie and Erich about it. All I ask is that it keeps with the character of the building,” I replied.
“And there’s another thing I’d like to run by you. If it’s O.K., I’d like to put a little jacuzzi hot tub up here. Just a little one, for relaxing after a long day.”
“Talk to Erich about that. He’ll need to evaluate whether this deck can take the weight, but if it can, go ahead. I know Emmy and I have said this before, but this is your home even more than ours, and we want you to be comfortable here,” I said.
“Thanks,” Luisa replied, leading me back inside. “My room here, well, it’s small as far as apartments go, but like you said, it’s home,” she said, opening the door and ushering me into her little apartment.
I was happy to see that it had been decorated and painted as nicely as any other part of the house. I’d thought I’d made it clear to Charlie and Erich that I wanted the two top-floor apartments to be anything but simply bare minimum servant’s quarters, and it looked as if they’d taken it to heart.
The moldings were as nice as any in the rest of the house, the paintwork just as crisp. The floors had been redone with wood parquet like downstairs, and there was a nice Persian-looking area rug in colors that went well with the drapes and the wall color.
“Charlie got Mia and me the same brand of mattress as you have in the master bedroom, and now in all the other bedrooms, too” Luisa said, pointing at the queen-sized bed by the windows. “This might not be the biggest apartment I’ve ever lived in, but it’s definitely the nicest.”
All of the furniture looked to be extremely high quality, and the built-in kitchenette had only the best fixtures. “Thanks for all of this,” Luisa said. “I mean, you didn’t have to have any of this done, and Mia and I would have been fine up here, but it really means a lot that you wanted our apartments to be done up as nicely as the rest of the house. Not very many people would have spent that money.”
I shrugged, and said, “You know what? It’s an investment in your happiness. I want you to be happy here.”
“Thanks. I really mean it.”
I peeked in her little bathroom and saw that it had been redone, too, and looked really good, with all new fixtures, a new glass shower door and tiles.
“Looks great,” I said. “How were the guys to deal with?”
“Most of them were really professional,” Luisa said. “One of the guys gave Mia a hard time and called her a dyke, so I told Erich I didn’t want that guy here ever again and we never saw him after that.”
“Thanks for sticking up for her like that,” I said as we walked down the stairs.
“I think that if I hadn’t gotten involved, she would’ve beaten the guy up,” Luisa said with a laugh.
“I guess nobody told the guy that she’s a combat veteran?” I said, laughing along with Luisa.
The next floor down, Luisa said, “Check this out. I don’t really know anything about these things, but this is super cool.” With that, she opened the door to what had been the sitting room, but was now a tiny but full-featured recording studio. Emmy, Mia and Angela were all crowded into the small production room, listening to the playback of something Emmy had just recorded.
“All good?” I asked Emmy.
“This is perfect!” she said with a big smile. “It is very small, but it has everything!”
Leaving that little studio, Luisa showed me to what was designated as my office.
“You said you liked the desk, so that stayed,” Luisa explained. "But they redid all the woodwork, so it matches the library downstairs.”
“That explains the ‘new paint smell’," I said, wrinkling my nose.
“You can blame Charlie for that. Erich’s painter wanted to use lacquer, and said the smell would clear out quickly, but she insisted on a brushed varnish like they would have used a hundred years ago. That’s why it stinks so bad,” Luisa explained.
“Well, I guess that’s understandable, but still…” I said.
“Now the weather’s been cooling off a bit I’ve been leaving the windows open as much as possible to clear the smell, but it only helps just so much,” Luisa said, apologetically.
“Eh, it’s fine,” I said. “I mean, sure, it smells, but it looks great, right? The smell won’t last very long, but the restoration is for good.”
“I like the smell,” Angela said, peeking into the office. “It smells like new paint. This whole house smells like new paint.”
“Yeah, it does,” I agreed.
The tour continued, and I was really happy with everything that Erich’s crew had done, and very happy with Charlie’s colors, as well as the drapes, rugs and furniture she’d selected to go along with everything. I’d paid her a ton of money, so I was pleased to see that she’d done exactly what we’d asked. The place was complete class, top to bottom.
The library stank strongly of fresh varnish, but looked perfect. The cherry woodwork that had faded with time looked as deep and rich as it must have when new, and I could easily imagine filling the shelves with real books, not the fakes that the previous owner had used. A few comfy chairs and reading lamps, along with a fire in the grate, and this would be a wonderful place to spend a quiet evening.
“Check this out,” Luisa said, pulling open an extremely shallow drawer from the bookcase near the door. “This drawer is designed for a pen collection, right? Try to pull it all the way out of the cabinet.”
I pulled it out as far as it would go, but couldn’t actually remove it from the body of the cabinet below the bookcase.
“Try a little bit harder,” Luisa instructed, so I gave it a tug and felt some sort of extra give, but then couldn't pull it any farther.
“Right, so that’s the locking mechanism for this,” she said and grabbed the wooden frame of the bookcase to its left, and swung it aside on silent hinges, revealing the stairs down to the sub-basement.
“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Angela. “That is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”
The staircase itself was steep and narrow, the steps cut from some sort of rough stone. The walls were reclaimed brick, as was the barrel-vaulted ceiling. The handrail and widely-spaced ceiling light fixtures were wrought iron, giving the whole thing a ‘descent into unknown depths’ sort of feel, made all the more by the length of the staircase, as it went down two floors with no interruption.
“O.K.,” I admitted. “That is freaking cool. I mean, I’d seen the plans, but seeing this in person? So much better.”
The heavy wooden door at the bottom had an incongruously modern digital lock pad above the weathered bronze doorknob, but was unlocked.
“The keypad will need to be programmed when everybody is done with all the work,” Luisa explained as we stepped into the wine cellar.
“It’s so cold down here!” complained Angela, rubbing her arms.
“Fifty-five degrees,” Luisa proclaimed, pointing out a jarringly-high-tech control pad on the wall near the wet bar.
“We need some warm coats down here, so people can put them on when we have a wine party,” I said.
“You need wine for that,” Angela protested. “You’re going to have to buy a lot if you don’t want this place to look empty.”
“No, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Luisa said. “There’s literally a ton of wine in storage, waiting to go back on these racks.”
“I know we talked about stocking the wet bar,” I said to Luisa.
“Yeah, I was going to wait until all the work was done before doing that,” Luisa said. “The bar upstairs is pretty well stocked right now, so I could easily bring everything down if you guys wanted to have a party down here…”
“No, I think I’m O.K. with waiting for that,” I said. “That reminds me- I heard Wally tell Emmy that moving the wine was a chore…”
“Oh, Jesus, was it ever,” Luisa said with a groan. “The stairs are too small for two people to pass by each other, right? So Poor Wally wound up carrying most of the wine upstairs himself. Mia and I had everything boxed, and we made sure it got loaded in the moving van correctly, but Wally carried over a hundred cases of wine up those stairs to the kitchen and out through the laundry room.”
“How long did that take?” I asked.
“Two days,” Luisa answered.
“How much wine?” Angela asked, stunned.
“One thousand, three hundred and forty-seven bottles, not counting the ones that had obviously gone bad,” Luisa announced, pleased to see Angela’s reaction.
“That’s a lot of wine,” Angela replied, trying to imagine the room’s extensive racks full of wine bottles.
“Jesus, is it ever,” Luisa agreed.
After the wine cellar, Luisa showed me Mia’s security room, pointing out the camera views on the multiple monitors, and the computer that controlled all the alarm systems and the like.
“Mia’s dad has even talked the guys at the embassy next door into sharing our external feeds, so some of these views are from their cameras,” Luisa explained.
“And in return, they get to see our views?” I asked.
“Just the external ones, front, back and rooftop. See that? That view right there is from their building. You can see our front door down here on the left.”
“I guess that improves security,” I said.
“You want to know the truth?” Mia asked, poking her head in. “It’s more than just camera feeds.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Dad explained it like this. If the security guys next door think of us as cooperating in their security also, if anything serious happens, we can rely on their help, right? The police are only a few minutes away, but the Moroccan marines are thirty seconds away.”
“O.K., now that’s good thinking,” I said. “Your dad had tried to impress on me to invite the embassy bigwigs over and make friends, so I can see why.”
“Well, it’s always good to get along with your neighbors in any case,” Luisa said.
“True,” I agreed. “So this reminds me. We need to set a date for a housewarming party. Talk to Charlie about when she thinks she can finish dressing the house, and we’ll plan something.”
“I think she wanted to come over tomorrow and meet with you and Emmy anyway, so that works out.”
The four of us made our way up to the kitchen, which had remained basically unchanged, except for the lighting was now LED instead of fluorescent, and the walls and trim were all freshly painted.
“This does not look like a kitchen in a house,” Angela proclaimed, looking around the large space. “This is a restaurant kitchen.”
“That’s exactly what I thought when I first saw it, too,” Mia agreed with a laugh. “This is way overkill.”
“So here’s the thing,” I said. “Emmy wanted this house for entertaining. She wants to be able to hold big dinners here, and parties, right? Her idea is that we’d bring in a chef and extra catering staff for big events, but for that, we’d need a big, commercial-grade kitchen. Like this one.”
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“Wow…” Angela breathed, awestruck.
A quick glance at the revamped laundry room and the now smaller ‘boiler room’ was all I needed, and we were done with the tour. There were still a few things that needed to be done, but the project was definitely almost finished, and looked nearly perfect. The house was better than it ever had been and now that all the remnants of the ugly past remodels were gone, it was as elegant as any grand old dame of a New York townhouse ever could be.
Saying goodnight to Luisa and Mia, Angela and I took the rattly old elevator up to the sixth floor to Emmy’s new studio. The “Recording” light was on above the door to the performance room, so we stepped into the production room to watch Emmy through the glass as she played her new old Stratocaster. The music was piped into the production room speakers, so we could hear it as it was being recorded.
“She is so amazing!” whispered Angela after watching Emmy for a few minutes. “So talented…”
“Yeah, she is,” I agreed. “Very much so.”
When Emmy finished the blues song she was playing, so leaned forward and spoke into the microphone. “Hey, you two! How does the house look?”
“It’s so amazing!” Angela gushed.
“See that red button on the top left of the board?” Emmy asked. “You have to press that so I can hear you.”
Looking sheepish, Angela found the button and pressed it. “This house is so amazing!” she said. “It’s unbelievable, really!”
“The remodel is perfect,” I added. “They did an amazing job.”
“That’s great!” Emmy replied, smiling. “Leah, do you mind if I stay up here and record some more? Do you mind if I come to bed late?”
“No, that’s O.K.,” I said, and seeing Emmy’s blank look, I pressed the red button. “Stay and record as long as you want, Em,” I said. “I know you’ve been bottling everything up since we moved to LA, so go ahead and get it all out now you have your own studio.”
Emmy smiled and said, “I cannot wait to send these files to Lee and Jackson!”
“Good night, hon,” I said. “I’m heading to bed.” Then, turning to Angela, I said, “You’re welcome to stay up here with Emmy if you want, but I want to get up early, so I’m gonna call it a night.”
“I am going to sleep with you tonight, right?” Angela asked, a little bit of insecurity in her voice.
“I’d love to have you join me,” I said.
“We’ll keep the bed warm for you!” Angela said to Emmy, pressing the red button. When Emmy just waved back, we left the production room and went downstairs to the master bedroom.
“Leah, this house- it’s everything I ever imagined a New York mansion would be,” Angela said as she kicked off her shoes. “I can’t believe you guys have this mansion here but are building a place in Los Angeles also.”
“It’s funny,” I said. “I never thought I’d ever own a home on the East Coast, and here we are, owning a classic Manhattan townhouse in one of the most old-school exclusive parts of town.”
I turned around to look at Angela, who was using the big cheval mirror to remove her earrings. She looked so beautiful, wearing nothing but a lacy baby-blue bra and panty set, her long, dark hair flowing down her back to her waist.
Emmy was an incredibly gorgeous woman, and I certainly would never say that I’d gotten tired of seeing her nude, but the sight of Angela just then took my breath away. Maybe it was still the novelty, since this was going to be only our third night in the same bed, but the sight of her getting undressed made my lady parts tingle in anticipation.
Even if we weren’t going to actually have sex, just the thought that this woman wanted to sleep next to me was enough to dry my throat in anticipation.
Angela caught my eye in the mirror and asked if I could help her with one of her earrings- she couldn’t get the lock-back off the stud. Leaning in to help, I breathed in the soft, floral perfume that Angela used, and reveled in the feel of her thick, lustrous hair against the back of my hand. After I got the earring loose, I wrapped an arm around Angela’s belly and pulled her in, nuzzling her and giving her a kiss on the back of the neck.
She made a sort of purring sigh as she leaned back against my chest. “I never thought I’d like this,” she said. “But you and Emmy have made this so wonderful for me. So wonderful.”
“Let’s go to bed,” I suggested, my voice husky.
I finished removing my own clothes with no sort of finesse at all, too focused on watching Angela gracefully remove her bra, one arm holding the cups against her breasts while the straps fell away, then lowering her arm and letting the bra fall to the rug.
Honestly, Angela’s breasts weren’t her best feature. I think that she’d asked for a little bit too generous of a helping when the doctor asked her how big she wanted them. It isn’t that they were too large, but real boobs aren’t quite round on the top side on their own. When Angela had a bra or bikini top on they looked natural and nice, but when they were out in the open like that, well, it was clear they weren’t original equipment. Boobs just aren’t supposed to be hemispherical. Still, like the old saying goes, I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers.
Her washboard abs and lower belly, though, those were one hundred per cent the result of the time she spent in the gym, and were absolutely world-class.
And don’t get me started on her unbelievable butt and thighs.
Angela turned her back to me to drop her lacy blue panties to the floor, proving she knew which part of her anatomy had the greatest effect on me, and I was O.K. with that. Leaving the panties on the floor where they lay, Angela stepped daintily to the bed and pulled aside the covers.
“Join me?” she asked, sliding under the sheets.
I’d had visions of leaving the lights on, us making like rabbits on top of the covers so I could enjoy the sight along with the other senses, but in that moment, gears shifted and I wanted something else. I flipped off the lights in the room, leaving on nothing but the dim nightstand light.
I slid into that big canopy bed and took Angela in my arms, holding her close to me. She resettled herself on top of me, resting her head on my upper chest, reminiscent of the position we’d taken in the tub earlier. Sure, her legs were parted and I was in between them, but the position wasn’t particularly sexual. It was more tender, a closeness of affection rather than lust, despite the earlier talk about wanting more practice with the sex thing.
“Leah, can it stay this way?” Angela asked softly, echoing what she’d said in the bath. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I really do want you. I want you and Emmy so much… I want to be with you two forever.”
Stroking her sides, I asked, “What is it- I mean, why do you like us so much?” I asked, kissing her hair.
“You’re so strong and confident, and everybody respects you, and you’re so tall and confident…” Angela said, almost whispering. I resisted the urge to tell she’d already said that, just letting her continue. “Everybody does what you say. You have presence. At first, when I saw you in the gym, I thought you were scary. You had this look in your eyes, and that scar… How did you get that, anyway?” Angela asked, lifting her head up to look at my face.
“I was cut by a man with a knife,” I said as Angela gently stroked the line across my cheek.
“Seriously?” she asked, surprised. “What happened?”
“A couple of guys jumped Emmy and dragged her into an alley,” I explained. “One of them had a knife.”
“What happened? How did you get cut?”
“I rushed the guy with the knife and he cut me. I never even knew it had happened until later.”
“What happened after that?”
“I beat the guys up, and took Emmy to the hospital,” I said, leaving some details out.
“You beat the guys up.” Angela made it a statement, but one of those sort of ‘I don’t actually believe the story you’re telling me’ statements without actually saying it.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “It was in the news.”
“Would you beat up somebody if they attacked me?”
“Without a moment’s hesitation,” I replied, and she smiled and gave me a kiss.
“I bet you could beat up Antonio,” she said with a saucy little grin.
“Is he a professional fighter?” I asked. “Does he do mixed martial arts?”
“He likes to say he used to box,” Angela said, dismissively. “But I think what that means is he took a class at a boxing gym.”
“Then I could definitely beat him up,” I said. “No problem.”
“I totally believe it,” Angela said, moving up my body a little bit so her face was above mine. “I’m also pretty sure you could make love to me better than he ever could. He couldn’t even get hard half the time.”
“That was something I didn’t need to know,” I said. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’d be happy to give you all the action you could possibly want.”
“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” Angela said, kissing the tip of my nose.
“So, you’ve decided that lady sex is alright after all?”
“The night before last was pretty convincing,” Angela replied. “But I wonder what it would be like with just one of you?”
“Well, Emmy’s busy right now, so I guess I’d have to be the one, then,” I said.
“I’d hate to bother her when she’s being creative,” Angela said, lowering her head for a kiss.
“Yeah, that would be inconsiderate,” I agreed, and went in for another kiss.
“So I guess I’ll just have to settle for you, then,” Angela said. “What a tragedy.”
“You don’t have to, you know,” I said. “You can wait for her, if you want.”
“I’m an instant gratification sort of girl,” Angela said with another kiss. “I don’t think I can wait.”
Angela drew up her knees and used the leverage to lift herself up and off my chest, sitting upright, straddling my hips. She swept her long hair back over her shoulder, a move I found unexpectedly sexy. With my hands resting on her hips, she ground against me as she used both her hands to pull her hair back. Of course, this had the desired effect of emphasizing her chest, the nipple piercings reflecting the dim light of the single lamp on the nightstand.
Tearing my eyes away from those little gleaming points of light, I looked up at Angela’s face. Her always-expressive eyes were hooded, a smile on her lips. She was enjoying my reactions as much as I was enjoying her actions.
“Ange,” I said, “Let’s try something different tonight. I want you to do what you want. You’re in the driver’s seat this time.”
She stopped rocking her hips, a mild look of panic on her face. “I don’t know what to do!” she protested.
“What you were just doing? That was great. Don’t think about it- just do what feels natural. Do what you want. Odds are that the things you like are also things I like, alright? Touch me the way you like to be touched. Kiss me the way you like to be kissed. Ask me to do the things you want done to you. I don’t think you’ll have any problems.”
“Um, O.K., alright,” Angela said, still unsure. “What should I do first?”
“How about grinding on me like you were just doing? I liked that,” I suggested. “And those sexy looks- I really liked that, too.”
“Like this?” Angela asked, returning to her pose, and moving her hips like before.
“Here, let’s try it a little bit more like this,” I suggested, lifting her up and repositioning her, as I opened my legs up a bit and angled my hips. With the changes, now her little pierced nubbin was sliding up and down on mine, and suddenly things got a lot better. And slipperier.
“Ohh…” Angela moaned as the sensation built. I was in complete agreement, to be honest. Emmy and I had tried that sort of tribbing on a number of occasions, but her tiny little pearl very rarely ever managed any stimulation. Angela’s, though, was another story. That little barbell, too, well that was magical.
As Angela’s rhythm increased, she leaned forward, supporting her weight on her arms. The effort she was putting into it and the look of concentration on her face let me know that she was getting at least as much out of it as I was, and had no intention of stopping any time soon.
I cupped her breasts in my hands, pinching her nipples and toying with her little barbells. This was just what it took, and within moments Angela was shuddering with release, gasping for air. Exhausted, she dropped back down onto my chest, still panting from the exertion and the orgasm.
“Fuck, that was good,” she finally managed to say once her breathing calmed down. “How was I? Did I do that right?”
“Ange,” I said. “That was great. You enjoyed it, and I enjoyed it. That’s all that matters.”
“I just want to do it right,” she replied. “For you. And Emmy.”
“You’re doing great,” I reassured her, kissing the top of her head.
“Can I- um, I want to try something, if it’s O.K.,” Angela said, looking up at me.
“If you think we’ll both enjoy it, I say go for it.”
“Alright,” Angela said, climbing off me. I felt the loss of the weight of her body pressing me down, and the warmth of her skin, almost enough for me to pull her back down on top of me, but I didn’t. This was Angela’s chance to try new things, and I was going to let her have every opportunity I could give her.
“Roll over,” she commanded, so I did, turning to face her direction. She straddled my butt, sitting upright again. “Your back is so amazing, Leah, and your shoulders- they’re like… amazing,” she finished lamely, not finding the words. As she spoke, she gently stroked my shoulders and back, caressing with the lightest of touches.
“When your towel fell and I saw you naked that day that Antonio got arrested, I… Well, I mean, I’d seen you working out in the gym, so I could tell you were strong and in great shape, but seeing you naked…” Angela said softly, as she continued to explore my back with her fingertips. “I’d never looked at another woman and found her sexually attractive, you know? I’ve seen beautiful women and evaluated them, but it’s always been a sort of competition?” She said, her voice rising at the end, turning it into a question. “Is she more beautiful than me? Better toned? Clearer skin?” Angela leaned down and kissed my back, drawing her lips softly against my skin.
“But you were there, naked, and unashamed. You were so confident, all I could think of was that you were, in your way, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. Not in a… traditionally feminine way, like Emmy, but in a sort of Athena way. She was the goddess of war, after all,” Angela said. “Some people have criticized me, especially back in Colombia, for being too muscular, you know? But I’ve always tried to shape my body like, well, feminine, but firm? But your body, it doesn’t look like a man’s, but it isn’t soft and curvy, either.”
I lay there on my belly, listening to Angela as she ran her fingers lightly over my back and shoulders, enjoying the touch, but also enjoying hearing Angela explain her feelings.
“You can do anything,” Angela said. “In Spanish, we say, ‘capaz de todo,’ and we usually mean it about somebody you need to be careful around. They are ‘capable of anything,’ and that’s usually bad. But sometimes, it means the opposite. It means somebody who can’t be told ‘no, you can’t do that,’ because they’ll just prove you wrong. You’re like that, you know.”
“I’m glad you think so highly of me,” I said.
“I’m not the only one,” Angela objected. “Everyone who knows you thinks the same thing. Your driving friends? They act macho, but they’re completely intimidated by you. Emmy’s band mates? The same. They respect you, Leah. They can see how powerful you are. They know.”
“You’re going to make my head swell up,” I joked from my position face-down on the mattress.
“It means a lot to me that you and Emmy have accepted me into your lives,” Angela said. “And right now, it means a lot to me that you’re letting me be on top, letting me do what I want. It makes me feel… I don’t know the word for it,” Angela said, kissing her way down my spine. “I feel like- I feel like you aren’t trying to make me into what you want, if that makes sense. You’re letting me… No, you want me to do what I want. That’s very important to me,” Angela said as she kissed right at my tailbone.
She’d slid the sheets down as she’d worked her way down my back, but the bedroom air wasn’t cold, so I didn’t mind being uncovered. Angela repositioned her knees between mine, parting my legs as she did so. She put her hands on the back of my knees, then slowly slid them up my thighs, her strokes almost as deep as a massage would be. When she got to my butt, she squeezed and kneaded my glutes for a while, almost as if she was working herself up for what she was going to do next.
“Leah, I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed.
“Just keep doing whatever you want,” I urged her. “If all you want to do is squeeze my butt, I’m O.K. with that. If you want to do more, go ahead and do it.”
“I do want to do more. I’m just not sure what to do.”
“Did you like kissing my back?” I asked.
“A lot.”
“Then, how about kissing the backs of my legs? Would you like that?”
“Is that enough?” Angela asked, dubious.
“Whatever you do is enough,” I answered her. “If you want to kiss my ankles for the rest of the night, by all means. If you want to play with my boobs, that’s good, too. Whatever you want, Ange. I’m enjoying this, right now. I’m sure I’ll keep enjoying it, whatever you do.”
Seeming to come to a decision, Angela changed position again, this time straddling my lower back in a sort of reverse cowgirl, but with me still facing down. She began running her fingertips up and down the backs of my thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Is this O.K.?” Angela asked, still uncertain.
“That feels great, Ange. Really good.”
As she grew bolder, her hands slipped down to the insides of my legs, her touch light on the soft skin she found there. She must have recognized the effect it was having on me, judging by the pleased little noises she was making. Soon she was brave enough to let her fingertips wander all the way up to where my legs joined, and gently caressed my outer labia.
“Is this good?” Angela asked.
“Very good,” I said, sticking my butt up a bit to give her better access. “Are you doing O.K.?”
“I like this,” Angela said. “This is very, um… It makes me feel close to you, touching you like this." As she spoke, she finally let her fingers graze my inner labia. “Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised. “You're wet!”
“I told you I was enjoying it,” I said as her fingertips lightly parted my folds, exploring me by touch.
“Can I- Can I, um…” Angela said as I felt her finger at my entrance.
“If you want to,” I said. “Don’t if you don’t want.”
“I think I do,” Angela said softly, then again with more confidence.
“You had your fingers in me the other night,” I said, puzzled by her lack of confidence.
“Yes, but this feels more, um, personal, somehow,” Angela replied as her finger started working its way in. “The night before last was like some sort of um, orgía, way out of normal bounds. This, this is me making love to you.”
“Make love to me, Angela,” I urged. "Make love to me the way you want to.”
By now, her finger had found its way as deep as it could, and started a slow retreat back out. As it slipped from me, I couldn’t suppress a little groan of disappointment. Angela, though, had other ideas. She spread the moisture she’d collected up and down my folds, dipping inside again for some more, stroking in and out a few times, then using my own juices to lube up my inner labia and, thankfully, my poor, neglected clit.
In, out, and on a round trip went her finger again, before sliding deep inside me once more. The next time that finger worked its way back out, though, she reached down and circled my clit, making me groan with pleasure. She kept circling my nubbin, as a finger from her other hand slid down into my depths.
Angela’s touch was soft, her movements slow and steady, and just exactly what the doctor ordered. The build up was slow, ever so slow, but oh, so good. When her hands swapped places a second finger joined the first, sliding in smoothly and easily, filling me that little bit more, and leaving me that much more empty-feeling when the two slid back out again.
Angela continued, gradually speeding up, reacting to my sounds of pleasure. I realized after a bit that my hips were well off the bed, my butt pointed at the ceiling, and Angela was taking advantage of the improved access to really get into what she was doing. At the same time, her hips had started rocking of their own accord, and I could feel the smear of her juices on my back as she used me for her own pleasure.
It took a while, but eventually it grew to be too much and I slipped over the edge, collapsing as my legs gave way in a flurry of twinges, no longer under my control.
Angela got up off me as I recovered, then she rolled me over onto my back. Looking down into my face, she swept her hair back again in that move that I found so sexy. “That was incredible, Leah,” she said. “It made me feel…” she said, as she straddled my hips again, once more in the traditional cowgirl. She leaned down, letting her long, thick hair drape across the two of us. She lowered herself into a kiss, long, slow and very deep.
“I love you so much,” she whispered. “I never thought I could love a woman like this. But I do. I love you,” she said, her voice almost too soft to hear, even in that quiet room.