Archive name: Lovers Reunited .HTM (F/F,
Lesbianism, Love)
Authors name: Paula Wilson
([email protected])
Story title: Lovers Reunited
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This work is copyrighted to the author and
the Unfaithful Wife Organisation © 2003.
Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this
story. All rights reserved. Thank you
for your consideration.
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Authors Note: I have never had a lesbian
experience or even contemplated one, but this idea just came to me one evening
and I just sat down and didn’t stop until I’d finished. This is the raw
product, no rewrites and no real sex; fundamentally it’s a short love story.
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It was
Wednesday and it was raining, either was bad news in a flea pit like Machin,
together the effect was awesome.
I shuck off my
wind breaker, scattering rain across the diner and then ordered coffee and one
of Ron’s famous brunches. It wasn’t that I was starving, but I couldn’t spend
time in Ron’s and not spend money.
Ron’s is famous
for his brunches, famous that he played three games for the Packers back in the
eighties and for the fact it almost the only place in Machin where you can go
that doesn’t serve alcohol. He say’s that one winter in
I doubt that.
I have a book
with me, one of the old Dune books by Frank Herbert. I’d seen the mini series
on cable and now wanted to try the book, so I sat in the corner, sipped my
coffee, nibbled my brunch and immersed myself in the novel.
“Excuse me!”
The little girl voice breaks into my thoughts. I look up, just a little annoyed
for I was becoming cosy in my little corner.
The voice
belongs to a woman in her mid twenties, brown hair that’s plastered to her
face, which is thin and pale. She has a prominent dimple on a chisel chin and
looks as depressing as the weather.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“I wondered if
I can join you.” She asks.
I look around,
the diner is almost empty and so a good dozen tables are free. There’s no need
for her to try and sit with me. I think she takes the hint from my expression.
“I don’t like
sitting alone.” She smiles briefly and shows a set of white and even teeth.
“Be my guest.”
I close the book after dog tagging the page I’m up to. I have the feeling that
my mystery guest will want to talk.
She takes off
the zip up jacket she’s wearing, its summer thin which in October Machin is a
mistake. I wonder where she’s come from that leaves her so ill prepared for the
weather around here, other than the jacket she’s wearing a woollen jumper and
faded blue jeans.
She looks cold.
She sits down
opposite me.
“Introductions
are in order.” I say. “Names Paula Machin, as in the town (she can work out
later that my family still owns sixty percent of the land that Machin is built
on.)” I offer her my hand.
“Paula … sorry
… I’m Sally Burgess, but people call me Sal.”
Our fingers
touch, her hands are frozen but touching her makes my fingers tingle for other
reasons.
I notice that
the damp hair frames a pair of deep brown eyes, all soft looking, they dominate
her face. I should have seen that before.
“You are
passing through?” I ask.
Sal gives a
shrug. “I guess so, unless I fall lucky on a job that got a room with it.”
I don’t tell
her that Machin in the winter has no spare jobs, the summer visitors has gone
and from now until the spring Machin is a one street town that shut down for
the duration.
“Passing
through then … sorry, but I know the town, there’s no work … ask Ron behind the
counter if you like.” I add just in case she thinks I’m trying to get rid of
her.
“It’s okay, I
believe you.” She smiles weakly again.
I notice that
she hasn’t even got a coffee.
“Not thirsty?”
She looks
embarrassed and leans forwards, her breath smells, like she hasn’t cleaned her
teeth in a while. “I’m broke.”
So that’s it,
this is a shake down and I didn’t see it coming. Paula you need to concentrate,
the law never takes time off. Out of my handbag I pull my badge and slid it
across to her.
“Shit!” She
hissed. “I’m sorry …”
“Tell Ron
that’s it’s on my tab.” I stop her before she either bolts or blubs. I push my
plate towards her, the meals still ninety percent there. “Get yourself a fork.”
I add.
“You mean it?”
She smiles and I catch the full extend off her bad breath.
“Sure.”
The next five
minutes are spent in silence as I watch Sal demolish the meal and two cups of
coffee. I guess that she’s still hungry but is too proud to ask for more and
I’m to mean to offer.
We talk for
about an hour, long enough for me to discover that Sal is from
She finds out
that I’m twenty eight, single, from Machin, one quarter of the towns police
force and of course that the town belongs to my family.
“My folks live
outside town, the big ranch touch. I have an apartment over the drug store.” I
tell her.
“Just
you?” She asks
nervously.
“Just
me.” I confirm.
She looks to
perk up, a warm meal and a warm room to eat it in bolster her morale. A little
colour comes into her cheeks, she isn’t exactly good looking but there’s a
character there.
My cell phone
interrupts us. It’s the station, could I call round, wasn’t that urgent, but
could I?
“Work, I have
to go.”
She looks
disappointed. I toss a few dollars onto the table. “In case you get hungry.”
“Thanks.” She
whispers.
Our fingers
touch again, I feel the tingle again and suddenly I’m short of breath. I know that feeling.
“I may see you around.”
I say as I leave.
The call was
supposed to be a small problem but its two hours before I can return to the
diner. I know that she won’t be there but I have to see.
The table is
empty. Ron smiles and says that the girl left just after I did. He understands,
Machin is what they call a pink town, not exclusively, but it’s a town that
tolerates an alternative life style.
I had just entertained the hope she’d be still there. I’m disappointed and show
it. Ron offers me a coffee but I need something stronger so after a couple of
beers in the originally named Machin Bar, I call in the drug store and buy a
quarter bottle of whisky.
“Hello again.”
I jump and nearly drop the bottle.
Sal steps out
of the shadows next to my apartment door. She looks cold again and I guess she
must have stood here for sometime. “They told me in the diner where you lived.”
“And?”
“I need a place
to stay; just one night … I’ll do anything for a night in a warm bed.” She
adds.
I know what
she’s offering and suddenly I’m tingling all over. It has been a long time since I’ve had company, that
sort of company; the tingling isn’t restricted to my fingers. I let us both in
the apartment, I’m shaking and Sal looks ready to bolt.
Please lord, let her stay.
I want to touch
her but I daren’t. I’m afraid that she will run or that maybe she’d just an
erotic dream I’m having. It wouldn’t be the first time I awoke with a damp
patch in my panties.
Don’t rush her, don’t scare her.”
“Drink?” I need
one if she doesn’t.
We eke out the
quarter bottle, even with ice it doesn’t go far and I still haven’t touched
her. We are sitting opposite each other in my small lounge, the fires well
ablaze and its heat and light warm and illuminate the room.
“That bottle
was meant for one.” Sal says’ she’s more relaxed but I don’t know if that’s
just the booze.
“I wasn’t
expecting company.” I admit.
“Wait there, I
won’t be a minute.” Before I can say anything Sal is gone, I feel the draft of
cold air from the street but not the door close.
She’s gone … you missed your chance.”
I fight back a
tear and the disappointment and then she’s
back!
She slumps into
the chair opposite clutching a bottle of whisky. “The cheapest they had.” Sal
explains.
“I thought you
were broke.”
“You gave me
money, now have I wasted the money?” Suddenly she is calm and confident. She
pours me the drink and tops up the glass with ice. “A favour … well more
practical … it’s been a few days since I showered … I probably need to.”
I remember her
breath then and mentally cringe as to what her pussy might taste like. I find
her towels and an old bathrobe left by a long gone and still remembered
partner. Then I sit and watch the television whilst I hear the shower running.
She spends a long time in there and I wonder if I should join her, but I’m not
that sure of my welcome so I sit and wait.
“Now I feel
like a woman again!” Sal’s voice once more startles me.
She’s buried
inside the robe; her hair washed and dried is swept back off her face, leaving
her thin features more exposed. I see how slender her neck is, the flesh is
white, perfect white.
I tremble again
and want to touch her.
She helps
herself to another glass of whisky and offers to freshen mine. I shake my head
and then I’m feeling dirty and desperately need to shower.
“You should
have joined
I shudder with
anticipation.
I tell her that
it’ll take five minutes.
She smiles and
says hurry up.
I do and
wrapped in my robe return to a now empty lounge, the fire has been smothered
and is already beginning to die down. There’s a light on in my bedroom, the
doors pushed to and it’s with nervous fingers I push it back open.
Sal is sitting
in the edge of the bed, staring at her feet. She hears me and looks up.
“The beds
warm.” She says.
“It’s on a
timer.” I manage to say.
I want you, I want you now, but now I’m the scared
one.
Sal stands up
and just steps out of the robe. She’s naked, her breasts are small but full,
her waist is narrow and her hips prominent, there’s a profusion of pubic hair,
and she has long slender legs. She is beautiful, like some women look better
naked than clothed, Sal is one of those.
I drop my robe,
the police work has given my body a tone, but I know that I’m not ugly; I’m
just ordinary whilst Sal is special.
We are standing
in the middle of the room, two steps apart.
“Bedtime?” Sal
smiles.
“Bedtime.” I
agree.
We climb into
the bed from opposite sides and meet in the middle, the shocks how it always
is, the wonder of touching another body, another female body. We hold each
other, not exploring and then just kiss, almost politely at first, then the
hunger takes over and the tingle become a fire …
We make love,
not once but endlessly, our fingers, lips and tongues draw orgasm after orgasm
from each other. We make love until we are too exhausted to continue and just
collapse against each other. For the first time in a very long time I’m content.
I pull her
closer, so that we are in the spoon position and my face is buried in her rose
scented hair. “Promise me something?” I whisper.
“What?” Sal
asks sleepily.
“The next time
we row, you sleep in the spare room and don’t just leap on a bus.”
“I promise!”
I can feel her
smile and pray that she can feel mine.