Title: Kissing Her
Author: Ky
Rating: ADULT
Word Count: 9,618
Summary: I didn't think I'd ever regret kissing her, but I was pretty sure that I'd regret the emotion behind it until I died.
Warnings: Male/female sex, female/female sex.

***

The hand that lightly fondled my breast was what woke me, I realized hazily. I fought against the thick fog of sleep clouding my mind as it was quickly replaced with desire, while my blood started to rush through my body and the remnants of my dreams faded. My lower belly tingled with pressure and I wondered how much I'd slept through. Mark’s insistent hand knew how to arouse me and he wasn’t holding back this morning, it seemed.

I wondered, briefly, what had sparked this early morning desire, but I was loathe to question it, fearing that anything verbal would ruin the moment.

Keeping my eyes closed, I smiled slightly as his hand tickled along the curve of my hip, warm under the thick blanket that covered us. Sometimes I found it hard to reconcile the confident man that touched me with the boy I'd met years ago.

I'd known Mark since I was fifteen years old. Ours wasn't a particularly romantic or exciting history; he'd transferred to my school and I'd hated him on sight. Of course, at fifteen, everything was love or hate and it took me a good seven years before I was finally able to look at him as something other than the ‘new kid’.

It was sheer coincidence that we were reunited. He'd been traveling the world and working in different countries while I had fallen into a mediocre job as a receptionist at a Real Estate company and stayed there. Ambition had never been my big thing.

Mark walked in one day, trying to rent a unit from us. I wouldn't call it love at first sight - I didn't even believe in it - but there was something about the man that he had grown up to be that fascinated me in an odd way. My workmates laughed at me, later, telling me I'd been flirting shamelessly with him.

When he got the unit, I began to see him every week when he came in to pay his rent. He could have easily done it all online - most tenants did, these days - so I wondered if the interest I had in him was mutual.

He confirmed that for me, two months after our reunion, when he asked me if I wanted to go for coffee. I didn't hesitate - not even a little to make myself look unavailable like all the dating books advise - and five months later I was moving in to the unit that I had helped him rent.

My relationship with Mark was what I'd always thought of as safe and secure. There was no doubting his sincerity; when he said something, he meant it. If I asked him to do something for me, he would. If I asked him to be somewhere, he was. He was reliable and dependable and everything that my mother had told me to look for in a man. Everything that I could have wanted, I suppose.

We found a fast rhythm with each other, meshing our lives together with the perfection of two puzzle pieces. Our combined group of friends made for a large and rewarding social circle and even our families seemed to fit together. He wasn't the man I'd pictured myself spending the rest of my life with, despite how well-suited we seemed on the surface, but it was a good relationship. My friends thought that I needed someone that would stand up to me more, but I was happy with what I had.

Things had always been easy between us; we'd never really battled over anything. On the rare occasion that we fought, I would always end up the one yelling while Mark was calm and collected. It infuriated me, his lack of emotional response, but arguments between us were so few and far between that it didn't seem to matter in the grand scheme of things.

The hand that stroked my hip became more adventurous, rousing me from my thoughts of our relationship and back into the world of desire that Mark was creating for me.

"Morning," He whispered, his breath tickling the back of my neck, his voice rough from sleep.

"Hi," I whispered back, shivering from the warm breath that blew across my delicate skin.

His hand continued its exploration of my flesh, dancing nonsensical patterns across my body. My nightgown had ridden up during the night and my entire lower half was exposed to him. I suspected that, despite his quiet nature, Mark was going to take full advantage of that fact.

Not that I was in a position to complain, I mused, as I felt his hand glide down my thigh to cup my knee, bringing my right leg back over his body, the apex of my thighs now easily accessible to his questing hand.

Wriggling a little as the cool air touched my damp flesh, I lay silent, waiting for his next move, the only sounds in the room coming from my slightly labored breathing and a few lone birds that were up before the sun.

Mark nudged my thighs apart a little more, until he had me as he wanted me. I suspected that having me, a generally headstrong and stubborn - I preferred the term 'willful' - woman lay passive in his arms was something of a turn-on for him, but it was certainly shaping up to be beneficial to me, too, and I had no urge to question him.

His hand settled comfortably between my thighs and he parted my folds, exposing more of my sensitive flesh to the mild chill in the air, despite the thick blanket. I gasped a little, an odd sensation crawling up through my body at the feeling. Encouraged, he cupped his hand over my pubic bone, protecting and arousing all at the same time.

My body screamed for satisfaction - apparently I didn't require a lot of convincing to be interested this morning - and, somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware that we didn't have a lot of time; we both had jobs to go to and an early morning love-making marathon would make us both late. Desire or none, I knew Mark was far too conscientious to let himself be late to work. Despite that thought, I didn't move to hurry him as he moved his hand and teased the wet flesh between my thighs gently.

My speculation proving to be correct, Mark wasted no time in bringing me to the brink of arousal with sure touches and quick flicks to my clit, just like he knew I liked. He lay silent behind me, my eyes closed as I absorbed the touches and let them work their magic.

Just as I felt my world begin to tear at the seam, he pulled back and I had to force my body not to orgasm. It was an odd feeling, trying to hold back something that every fiber of my being screamed for, but I wanted to wait for him and I promised myself - and my clit - that it would be worth it.

Breathing heavily and not entirely certain I was still alive, part of me was dimly aware that Mark had moved himself so that our groins were lined up and the head of his cock nudged at my soft entrance. I was already wound like a tight coil and I had to focus on each breath to stop myself falling apart all over him as he entered me - not that it wouldn't have been good for his ego.

He moved slowly at first, either aware of my hyper-sensitivity or experiencing some of his own, and I felt him enter me inch by agonizingly slow inch. He moved until he was completely embedded within me and I could feel the familiar pull on my flesh as I stretched to accommodate him, sighing in pleasure.

With one hand cupping my hipbone just a little harder than I might have liked if my brain had been firing on all cylinders, the other hand curled under my neck and wound around my body to hold my shoulder for leverage, Mark used slow thrusts to penetrate me. He moved at a steady pace as I continued to lay passive, focusing on my breathing and the feeling of him pulling almost all the way out of me, only to thrust to the hilt in one smooth motion.

He repeated the movement and I could feel the hands on my hip and shoulder tighten as he thrust into me, again and again, pushing me closer and closer to oblivion.

I was gasping and sweating by the time he was reaching completion. His slow, measured thrusts had sent him to the edge quickly, but I'd been there for longer and my orgasm finally slammed into me with the force of a freight train, until I was left gasping for breath, the line between pleasure and pain blurring as he thrust himself into me twice more before shuddering and groaning something that may have been my name.

I found myself unable to move properly as the sensations hurtled through me. The sound of blood racing through my body rang in my ears and my breathing was labored and uneven in the best way possible. I could feel my heartbeat dancing in rhythm with my blood and I could have quite happily died in that moment.

"Not that I'm complaining," I panted, wondering if I would be able to finish a coherent sentence so soon after my brain had melted out of my ear, "But what brought that on?"

"You were making noises in your sleep."

I frowned, confused. I tended to make a lot of noises in my sleep, but what did that have to do with him waking me to... oh. "Was I?"

I could feel his smile against my shoulder. "Good dream?"

"Apparently." I shrugged, unable to recall any kind of insightful detail.

Mark lifted his head to look at the clock beside our bed. "We've got an hour."

I nodded thoughtfully, my body already sold on the idea of going back to sleep, and half-way there, before I had a chance to voice the thought.

And they said men were bad at post-coital pillow talk.

***

As I listened to my co-worker Julie, almost six months pregnant, lament her clueless husband, I once again mentally thanked my lucky stars for having found Mark.

He and I had been together for almost two years and I was extremely grateful for his kind soul. Julie was happy with her husband, I knew that, but listening to the subject of their latest petty argument - involving baby names, of all things - I couldn't help but wonder if that was what marriage did to people or if Mark and I would be one of the 'lucky ones.'

"So then he tried to convince me to name the baby after his great uncle," Julie continued, not once pausing as she typed up the latest application form to come across the reception desk.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, completely naive.

I could admit to being relatively clueless when it came to baby names but, even to me, I thought Julie was being far too hormonal about the whole process. She and her husband Frank seemed to be having this argument on a weekly basis and I couldn't see the point.

"He wants to name the baby after his Great Uncle Eunice."

...Or maybe I could.

"You can't call your baby Eunice."

"That's what I said!" She huffed and there was a pause in the sound of her typing as she let out a sigh. "But he thinks I'm being unreasonable."

Julie and I had worked together for three years and, despite a twelve year age gap, I looked up to her, in a way. I was excited for her to be having her baby but, thanks to gestational diabetes and a plethora of other concerns, I knew she'd be leaving work soon for her enforced hibernation and I didn't like the idea of having to re-train someone.

I shook my head a little, unable to help feeling sorry for her. "So what are you going to do?"

"Pray for a girl?" She offered.

I decided I'd pray, too, but it was time for a change of subject before she went into early labor from stress. "When is the first interview for your replacement?”

Julie flicked a glance at the clock on her computer. "An hour."

The Principal of the agency wanted me to sit in on all of the interviews. She wanted my input, since I would be the one responsible for training and working with whoever got the job.

I had an hour to think of a good reason not to go.

***

I don’t know what I'd expected the applicants to be like - especially since it was a maternity contract that would go for one year at best - but when Lisa walked in the door, something changed.

I don’t quite remember much about meeting her. I do remember wanting to touch the long black hair that she’d clipped back from her face with two inconspicuous little clips.

She had an opinion and she made it known but she managed to do it with a kind of grace that I could only wish for. She was so forceful and so tactful at the same time that, even when she was chastising you, you felt like the most important person in the world and you were left with the desire to thank her.

We shared a love of music and a desire to see the world - as our boss informed me - but that was about all.

I listened to her answer Mary, the Principal's, questions and I nodded and smiled whenever she made eye contact with me but, for the most part, I found myself just a little too choked up to ask anything insightful. I wasn't certain what it was about Lisa that enthralled me, but I knew that if I had attempted to open my mouth and speak, nothing but incoherent mumblings - with, perhaps, a little bit of drool - would have come out.

Mary hired Lisa on the spot - which was quite unusual. My boss had a tendency to be bad at decision making and, I suspect, if it hadn't been for the obvious need to get someone in to be trained, Mary would have debated over the pros and cons of hiring someone until Julie's baby was old enough to buy her a drink.

Part of me wondered if Mary was as enthralled with Lisa as I was, but I dismissed that thought quickly. Surely it was envy that made me look twice at the dark-haired woman, and nothing more? Surely it was simply talent and the right skill set that had made Mary hire her?

I told myself that it didn't matter the reason, anyway. Lisa and I were going to have to work together and I was going to have to deal with that, regardless of what my hormones seemed to be trying to tell me.

***

The front door opened and the bell rang, but I didn't bother looking up. It was still before the start of business hours and, until we opened our doors at 9a.m., the only way in was with a key, which meant that it was either Lisa or one of the Property Managers.

"Morning."

Lisa's gravelly morning voice floated across the otherwise quiet office and I finally looked up to greet her in return. "Hey."

"How are you?"

"Not bad." I'd had a fight with Mark that morning - with me doing most of the arguing, of course - but Lisa and I had only been working together for a little over a month and I wasn't comfortable bringing my personal life into the office with her, yet. "You?"

"Good." She dumped her handbag under the desk and fired up her PC. "Do we look busy today?"

I shook my head, quietly wondering if she didn't feel comfortable enough with me to elaborate beyond 'good', either. "So far so good."

"Isn't Mr. Scott coming in today?" She asked, pulling out a nail file as her computer continued to boot up at the pace of a dead snail, in her words.

"Yes, at ten." I replied, quickly glancing to the left to make sure I had the file out. "No doubt he wants to yell at us for not leasing his house yet."

"Has anyone thought to just tell him that it's a shithole of a place that I wouldn't let wild dogs live in?"

The thought had crossed my mind, I had to silently admit. "That wouldn't be very professional now, would it?"

"Probably not, but it could be fun."

I wondered what else she did purely because it could be fun.

***

I didn't think I'd ever regret kissing her, but I was pretty sure that I'd regret the emotion behind it until I died.

It sounded much more dramatic than I'd ever intended to, but I liked to console myself with the thought that it was just that - another thought in my mind. No one would ever have to know, so I was safe.

At least, I thought no one would ever know. I suppose I didn't really bank on it eating away at my brain and demanding to be shared.

Of the few people I told, though - my revelation coming in the form of a "Holy crap, I kissed a girl!" - none of them were surprised. In fact, the only one who appeared to be surprised was me. Which I thought was kind of depressing, really.

How had I possibly made it to this age without figuring this side of my personality/sexuality out? More to the point, had I figured anything out or had I just attacked the nearest set of willing lips because there'd been a dry spell lately and I was, well, horny? Mark and I had been doing more and more arguing in the three months since I'd first met Lisa and I had, at some point, made the decision to withhold sex as punishment.

Sadly - for me - Mark was less affected by that than I was. He seemed to be handling the lack of sex with his usual calm, while I was left floundering. Masturbating in the shower was only going to keep me going for so long and I was almost pleased with myself that I had managed to stop things at just kissing with her.

Lisa and I had been at her new place when it happened. She'd been kicked out of her apartment by her bastard of a landlord and all of the Property Managers and I at work had busted our asses to get her the best place at the right price as fast as possible. She'd been set to move in just two days after the new place became available but, due to the short notice, she hadn't had anyone to help her move.

After working with her for a few months, we'd become good friends, socializing when it was appropriate, but something had always held me back from developing a deeper friendship with her. I wondered if it was a little voice in the back of my head, warning me about what could happen with her that had held me back.

I didn't know and I wasn't entirely certain that I cared.

Needless to say, when Lisa revealed that she was going to spend her weekend ferrying boxes back and forth on her own, I volunteered my services. Normally, I would have volunteered Mark as well, but part of me wanted to keep my life with him separate from my life with her.

I spent my Saturday with her, loading and unloading a large van that she'd borrowed from somewhere. When we had everything at the new place, I helped her unload the essentials and set up her bed.

And then I kissed her, for no reason other than I wanted to.

***

"Where did you put the box with bedroom linens?" I asked, my voice loud enough to carry through the entire apartment as I continued emptying the box of pillows - and a few breakables I'd thrown in to keep safe - onto the floor by the newly constructed bed.

"I think it's by the bathroom door!" Lisa shouted in reply.

I wasn't sure where she was, but she'd gone to unpack the kettle and find the bottle of wine she knew she'd packed as a way to say thank you for helping her.

We had worked well together from the first day she'd been with Julie and me as she trained, but I still felt our friendship held an air of professionalism to it. Helping her move was the first step that I was consciously taking to get to know her better.

Something about Lisa drew me to her like the proverbial moth to the flame. Despite my own personal circumstances, and my strange attraction to the woman I now shared my reception desk with, I wanted her friendship without exception and I was willing to work for it.

Locating the missing box, I cut the tape with the Stanley knife I'd left on the dresser and began to unpack the linens I needed to make her bed.

Despite my profession, I had made a big effort not to move too often in my life. Though I had done it a few times and I knew how tiring the whole process was. If I could do anything to help Lisa, it would be simply to ensure that she had a clean bed to sleep in.

"I found the wine." Her voice was mildly triumphant as she stood in the doorway. "However I didn't find any glasses."

I laughed a little. "I'm sure we'll manage."

She nodded and popped the cork, taking a long swallow before she handed me the bottle and bent to pick up the fitted sheet I'd been unfolding. I gulped down a grateful mouthful of cold liquid and let it on the bedside table as I moved to help her spread the sheet across the bed. "Has the electricity company called you back, yet?" I asked, neatly folding a corner.

"No," She growled. "What the hell do they expect me to do about the container full of defrosting meat I have if they can't even turn the damn power on so I can run the fridge?"

"Are you going to call them again?" I asked, tossing the flat sheet on the bed.

We both reached for it and our fingers grazed. She smiled apologetically and I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Mild arousal hummed through my body, as it had been doing all day. If I let myself think about it - which I didn't, usually - then I would have been able to say that mild desire has been humming through my veins since I'd met her.

Part of me was quite content to believe that it was frustration with Mark more than anything else, but part of me knew that the only person I was bullshitting was myself. Clearly something about Lisa had me interested, I just needed to figure out how real that was and what I should do about it. If anything it all.

The whole thing made my brain hurt.

"Yeah." Lisa’s voice was a welcome distraction from thinking about my tumultuous hormones. "Hopefully my phone isn't dead."

"You can use mine," I muttered, my face hot.

I kept my head down and avoided eye-contact at all costs as we pulled the top sheet across the bed. I pulled out a blanket to fold over the foot of the bed - it was far too hot for it to be on the bed - and tried to think of something non-committal to say.

I couldn't understand exactly what happened to my ability to form coherent sentences around her, but Lisa seemed to do something to my ability to speak that no one had ever managed before.

Briefly, I thought about Mark waiting for me at home, but with that came thoughts of every little petty argument we'd had in the last week alone and the idea of leaving such warm - though thoroughly confusing - company to go home to the man that I could barely speak to civilly filled me with dread. I didn't hate Mark, but, lately, I often wished I did. It would have made things so much easier.

"Carla? Carla! Earth to Carla!"

I snapped back to reality and tried to look like I hadn't been lost in my own little world, wondering how long she'd been calling my name. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I'm just going to call the electricity company again." She smiled gently, phone in hand. "You OK?"

"Yeah." I tried to smile, "Too much wine, I think."

Lisa laughed as she hit 'redial'. "You're easy."

She had no idea.

I sat down on the freshly made bed and sighed, wondering if the wine was spiked or if I was going completely crackers at such a young age. Quietly studying my hands, I listened to the rustling behind me as Lisa paced at the foot of the bed.

"Hello? ...Yes. ...No. ...I don't know. ...Operator." She sighed and covered the mouthpiece, "I hate it when they make you talk to that stupid automated thing that doesn't speak anything resembling English and then they get pissy when you're not put through to the right... hello? Hello? Hi!"

She smiled at me and I grinned back, wondering if the operator had heard her mild tirade.

"I'm trying to get my electricity connected. I've been trying all morning. Yes, that's the correct address... No, they said sometime in the next three days... No, I wanted... Yes. No. ...Look, I have a three month old baby here and I can't heat her bottle until I have somewhere I can connect the microwave. ...Excellent. Thanks for your help. Bye." She disconnected the call and grinned at me, "They'll be here within an hour."

I shook my head, silently admitting that I was impressed. "A baby, huh?"

She shrugged. "What they don't know won’t hurt them."

"I admire your tenacity, if nothing else."

"Thanks." She grinned and moved to sit next to me on the bed, grabbing the wine from the bedside table. "This will be too warm to drink soon," she explained, swallowing another large mouthful before handing me the bottle.

I knew that I shouldn't, considering that my inhibitions were precariously low already when I was around her and I didn't need any assistance. But the wine did look good and I knew that, if nothing else, Lisa's intentions weren't sinister, so I took the bottle and had two large sips.

Though I knew that, later, I would be unable to remember exactly how or why it had happened, for some reason, at that exact moment, I leaned over and kissed her.

I still held the bottle of half-finished wine in my hands and there was nothing overtly welcoming about our respective postures - sitting cross-legged facing each other on her bed - but I leaned over and kissed her anyway.

It wasn't anything like I'd expected it to be. I don't know if I'd seen too many male-targeted porn movies or if I'd sensationalized the idea of lesbianism in my head, but the kiss was just like every other I had ever experienced and still completely different from anything I'd ever known, all at the same time.

Her mouth was soft and warm and inviting and she tasted like the wine and something I hadn't expected, but I imagined was uniquely her.

Though I kept my hands to myself as much as possible, I let my mouth take control and kiss her the way that I'd been imagining for months. My dreams had been filled with thoughts of her and now I was experiencing something I'd never expected and, best - or, perhaps, worst - of all, she wasn't pulling away, slapping me and telling me she was straight.

We pulled away naturally, our lips making a slight sound as they parted. I could still taste her when I finally opened my eyes to look at her, wondering what would happen next.

"So," she said after a few moments of silence, her expression and tone completely neutral and un-accusing. "What was that?"

"I have no idea." I admitted.

"Do you want to stop?"

I had every intention of saying yes and getting out of there before I let that madness continue. I had every intention of steering our friendship back towards the strict professionalism that we had known only in the first week. But when I opened my mouth to speak, I found myself responding before my brain had given my mouth the green light. "No."

"Forgive me for prying," She started, licking her lips - and ohmygodIwantedhertodothatagain - before continuing, "But, don't you have a boyfriend?"

I hadn't discussed Mark with her in any sense but I supposed that someone around the office might have told her. I wondered if she were offended that I had kept that part of my life away from her - especially given what I'd just done - but her features remained non-judgmental and I found myself being honest. "Yes. I live with him."

"But you just kissed me."

I thought it was pretty senseless, too. "I know."

"Do you even like women?"

Not until her, I hadn't. "I don't know."

"OK." She nodded and, under the circumstances, I couldn't help but admire the way she handled my uncertainty. "What do we do now, then?"

"I don't know that, either."

I felt like I didn't know much of anything anymore.

***

I went home after that kiss and apologized to Mark. I didn't tell him what the apology was for, but I'd turned into such a bitch around him lately that it could have been from any number of snide remarks or dirty looks. Or stolen kisses with enthralling women.

I'd never intended to turn into some kind of tyrant around him but his constant calm as we fought had affected me in the worst way possible. When we argued, I more than made up for his silence with my own accusations and harsh words. I'd become the kind of woman that I hated and I needed out before I got to the point of no return.

When I told Mark that we weren't working anymore, he nodded and agreed - after all, it was pure fact. I didn't tell him about Lisa or the kiss. I didn't want to rub salt in the proverbial wound. I did, however, say that I was willing to try and work things out, which surprised him, I think.

It surprised me, too, if I was honest.

When my mouth had been locked with Lisa's, I'd had the insane notion of running away with her flutter through my head. In that split second, I'd been able to picture our lives together and how things would be between us until the day we died. I thought about how I would leave Mark - I even knew what I would say to him when the time came - and what Lisa and I would do about our working relationship.

I romanticized the hell out of one tiny kiss, forgetting that not once had she said what she wanted or given any indication that she even liked me as more than a colleague or friend.

It occurred to me only when I was talking to Mark that, even though Lisa had asked me what I thought about it all, she hadn't voiced her own opinion. I didn't know if that was strategic or pure uncertainty and I was hesitant to see what would happen at work the following Monday.

Of course, ever the professional, Lisa didn't mention it at all. She was friendly and she smiled and thanked me for my help with the move, but she didn't mention anything about the kiss or her phone call with the electricity company again.

In fact, I was quite happy to believe that she'd simply forgotten the whole thing - chalked it up to wine or simple curiosity - and I quietly tried to make my relationship with Mark better, more than content to believe I was off the proverbial hook on both fronts.

Until I did it again, that was.

***

We were at a work function the next time it happened. It was a non-alcoholic lunch so, much to my later dismay, I didn't even have wine to blame.

Mary had just found out that she was going to be a Grandmother and she'd decided to treat the staff to lunch. None of us really wanted to go - socializing with everyone in the office wasn't really anyone's idea of a good time - but we were hardly likely to pass up the offer of free food and I found myself squashed into a booth with Lisa pressed against my side.

There wasn't a lot of room in the crowded bistro and I was glad that no one seemed inclined to notice or care about my proximity to our other receptionist. The other twelve employees - most of whom I had little to no dealings with, aside from doing their filing and passing along phone messages - chatted around the table. Lisa and I were the youngest and I knew from my years with the company that age definitely created a barrier between the various departments.

Ignoring the boring conversations floating around my head, I pushed the piece of meat that someone had attempted to convince me was chicken around my plate in mild disgust. I was desperately trying to make it look like I'd eaten something without actually eating.

Lisa wriggled beside me and I felt my heart skip a few beats when her hand moved to my lap.

I looked at her sharply, wondering what the hell she was thinking, when she leaned closer - if that was even possible - to whisper in my ear, "Napkin."

Smiling gratefully, and squashing the mental images that raced through my mind, I tried to look inconspicuous as I shoveled food into the napkin she'd handed me. "Thanks," I whispered back.

"You think that she could spring for a decent meal, given that she isn't paying."

I laughed and held my glass of coke up to hide my mouth moving. "She's tighter than a fish; you should know that by now."

Lisa smiled. "When this version of hell is over, do you want to duck up the road and get a burger?"

"God, yes." I was starving, but there was no way in hell I'd be able to eat whatever was on the plate in front of me and Lisa had just made the best offer I'd heard all week. I wanted to lie to myself that it was because of the food and not her company, but I don't think I bought it anymore than anyone else would have.

As soon as we could, we broke from the group under the guise of running an errand and headed up the street to a small cafe that made some seriously good cheeseburgers. We ordered without looking at the menu and we took a table up the back and slightly out of view from the front door - just in case anyone else from our office had the same idea.

When we sat down to wait for our order, I tried to smile in a friendly-but-not-hitting-on-her kind of way. I suspect I looked like I was passing wind more than anything else, but she seemed to get some kind of underlying message.

"Will you relax?" she finally said, after watching me flounder for a few minutes in silence. "I won’t bite."

That was the problem - I kind of wanted her to.

"I know."

"Look," she held her hands out as though she were placating a fierce animal, "I know things have been weird since you helped me move and I'm sorry about that."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing." The admission came instantly and I knew damn well it was true. It had been three weeks since I'd kissed her and I'd not said a word to her that hadn't been work related since.

I'd been unfair to Mark, who was trying his best to be a good partner as we attempted to mend our relationship. I'd been unfair to Lisa, who probably didn't know how to make heads or tails of me. And I'd been unfair to myself by denying what I wanted - of course, it didn't help that I had no idea what I wanted.

"It's OK, really," she said, smiling gently. "You don't have to say anything."

I wondered if that was her nice way of telling me that she didn't swing that way. I wondered why that thought hurt so much. "I like you," I admitted in a rush. "I don't know why and that's not good for your ego, I realize, but I like you. And I liked kissing you. I just don't know what to do about it."

"Start small," she shrugged, "figure out if you want to do it again and then take it from there."

So I did.

In a small cafe in the middle of the city, I kissed her again. It was a much shorter kiss than the last one, but it hit me with a rush all the same and, when I pulled back, my eyes were wide and my body hummed pleasantly.

Lisa didn't say anything as she looked at me. Her expression was neutral and I had no idea what she was thinking. I was saved from asking by the arrival of our burgers and we ate them quickly, barely exchanging glances.

Once our meals were gone, we grabbed our handbags and headed back to the office, the silence stretching on uncomfortably. The silence continued on the way back to the office and I was thankful to find a pile of phone messages waiting to be returned.

Distracted for the rest of the day, I almost missed the e-mail when it came in.

From: Lisa [mailto:lisa@realestateking.com]
Sent: Monday, 14 September 2007 3:46 PM
To: Carla [mailto:carla@realestateking.com]
Subject: Tonight...

...Come over for a glass of wine?

I was fairly certain that the correct answer would be a very firm, very clear 'Hell No!' that should be shouted as I ran for the hills with the intent of changing my name and having cosmetic surgery to change my appearance. It was, perhaps, more dramatic than it should have been, but panic filled me as I scanned the e-mail and I stopped speaking to a landlord halfway through a sentence.

"I'm sorry? ...Oh, yes." I flushed, embarrassed that the gentleman on the phone would know I hadn't really been paying attention. I did my best to end the call as quickly as possible and e-mailed back a one-word answer that wasn't what my head was saying but, apparently, spoke quite well for my heart.

OK.

***

I don't know what I'd imagined would happen when I went to her place. Particularly since the connotation of the evening was heavily centered around my complete and utter indecision.

I'd never had a thing for women before and I'd never questioned my sexuality, not even as a teen. I wasn't sure if that meant that I was long over-due for some good old fashioned confusion or if it was just something about Lisa that made me want to break all of the rules that I'd adhered to for my entire - though, admittedly, short - adult life.

The two friends that I told of my interaction with Lisa were both completely enthralled by the whole situation. But that may have been more about the fact that I was acting so out-of-character, more than anything else. Needless to say, my two straight female friends had little to no insight to share with me and I was left struggling for a direction.

I don't know if agreeing to go to Lisa's place was the right decision or not - I supposed I'd never know - but if I hadn't gone, the curiosity might have killed me.

***

I stood awkwardly in the living room, not quite sure if I should sit down or not, wondering what I was doing there, questioning my entire life and my belief system.

Why was I here? Wasn't this just asking for trouble? What the hell did I think I was doing? Had I gone mad?

"You can relax." Lisa's voice rang through from the kitchen and she followed a moment later with two glasses of wine in her hand. I was both relieved and disappointed that she hadn't just brought the whole bottle.

"I am relaxed," I protested automatically, but I knew I was talking out of my ass on that one.

Lisa knew it too, because she just nodded and smiled, but didn't bother to comment.

Following her lead, I accepted the glass she offered and moved to sit on the sofa. She sat too, but there was almost a full cushion between us and I thought of that ground as dangerous territory to be avoided at all costs.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping wine as the radio played quietly in the background. I was struggling to find something insightful - or, hell, just something not stupid - to say when she finally spoke.

"So do you plan on making this kissing business a habit, then?"

Lisa had always approached things with an odd kind of logic and I found comfort in that. It was almost like she had no emotional investment in any situation and she was truly able to look at things objectively. I had believed that of her when I first met her but, gradually, I had learned that, despite whatever exterior façade she chose to project, her eyes gave her away.

It was corny as hell, but Lisa's eyes really were the window to her soul and I loved it.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. I'd been trying to come up with some answers for her - and myself - all afternoon but, thus far, all I could say was that I liked kissing her. It was the only thing I was certain of and it wasn't really much to go on.

"Carla," she sighed. "You have a great life with a man that loves you. Don't screw that up for me, OK?"

I felt my heart sink and I reminded myself, once again, that I should have asked her how she felt about everything before I let myself envision some kind of fairytale life with kids and a white picket fence in an accepting neighborhood. "I see."

"I'm not saying that I'm against it," she rushed on, obviously interpreting the look on my face, "but I don't want you to have unrealistic expectations."

I decided it was time to take a page from her book and be blunt. "Do you even like women?"

"Yes, I do."

Damnit. "And me?"

"Yes."

Double damnit. "I like you, too." Though I thought kissing her with alarming regularity had pretty much made that clear.

"I guessed." She smiled, gently.

"So what now, then?" I was almost holding my breath as I asked.

"That's up to you." Lisa shrugged a little and sipped her wine. "You have far more to lose than I do."

I thought about that, about what I had to lose. The list was startlingly short and inconsequential when I thought about it in comparison to the woman across from me.

There was my job, of course, but we'd already inadvertently proved that anything happening in our personal lives didn't really affect our working relationship.

My friends and family would accept my decision regardless of their own personal views, I already knew that.

My relationship with Mark, despite us both trying, hadn’t gotten any better since I’d first kissed Lisa. Things only seemed worse when I thought about it and, though I tried to remind myself of Mark's sweet face, thanks largely in part to my own bitchiness, his sweet face brought forth images of long arguments and hurt feelings and it wasn't quite the deterrent that I'd intended it to be. I kissed her again and, this time, I didn't let myself stop.

My tongue swept across her parted lips and I had to hold back a gasp when her mouth opened under mine, her breath mingling with my own. One hand held my glass of wine precariously, but I wasn't concerned with the liquid while my other hand cupped her soft cheek as I explored her warm mouth.

When we pulled back for lack of air, panting, I looked at her and my breath caught. "I don't want to stop," I admitted in whispered tones.

"Then don't," she replied simply, taking the wine from my hand to put both glasses on the coffee table before she turned back to face me.

This time, she kissed me. The kiss held more passion than all of my previous experience put together and I moaned helplessly as she expertly worked her mouth over mine, touching, tasting and teasing.

She pulled me to her, falling backwards with me on top of her, holding our bodies flush against one another awkwardly on the sofa. One of her hands grazed the side of my breast through my shirt and I jumped a little, all thoughts of logistics gone from my mind.

The urge to feel her bare skin against mine was an odd, but certainly not unwelcome, one. Hurriedly, my hand reached down to pull her shirt upwards, the other balancing me above her as we kissed. My only conscious thought was getting her undressed as soon as possible and, oddly, I wondered if this was how men felt about women.

She smiled against my mouth, clearly amused by my eagerness and complete lack of grace. I didn't care though - this woman wanted me and I wasn't going to let that opportunity pass by.

I felt her hands on my shoulders, pushing me back until I was straddling her hips, looking down at her flushed face and mussed hair. God, she looked beautiful.

She grinned at me. "Need a hand?"

I nodded, not quite sure there was anything I could say. I watched her pull her shirt up and off, tossing it somewhere behind the sofa while I sat and stared at the expanse of smooth flesh laid out before me. The simple black bra had to be the sexiest thing I'd ever seen in my life and a slow smile spread across my face.

I took careful inventory of what I could see; the smooth belly, her pierced navel, a hint of her rib cage, full breasts encased in black cotton, narrow shoulders with a sprinkling of freckles and a pale throat, full lips, slightly swollen from my kisses. When I made eye contact with her again, Lisa was smiling, obviously pleased by my reaction.

Leaning down, I kissed her again, our tongues tasting and exploring. One careful hand touched the curve of her hip and I followed the hour-glass line of her body. As I grazed the side of her breast, she inhaled sharply against my mouth and I felt a rush knowing that I had the ability to turn this woman on.

I was mildly amused by the fact that I was the one taking the lead but, given that it had been my indecision that had held us back from anything more than kissing, I was hardly surprised that Lisa was letting me take the reins. I felt quite sure that she wouldn't do anything without prompting from me, purely because, if either of us was going to stop this from really happening, it would be me. She had said it herself; I had more to lose in this situation than she did but, as I was quickly coming to realize, she was worth the risk in my opinion.

Pushing the more serious thoughts out of my mind, I lost myself in the sweetness of her kiss and the softness of her body, my hands on her skin no longer careful. I knew that she wasn't porcelain and I knew that she would hate to be treated as such, but something inside of me screamed that I had to tread carefully lest I give her reason to want out. I forced that voice into silence and let my hands stroke her skin, cup her breast through the bra, work the stiff nipple I could feel through the thin fabric.

Her breathing was coming faster now and I pulled back from our kiss to watch her. Part of me would have been content to watch her all evening, but another part of me - the part that was rocking our groins together, I supposed - was desperate for more and the rest of her clothes needed to go. Now.

Lisa pulled herself into a sitting position, me still atop of her. I ran my palms over the creamy skin of her shoulders, pushing the black straps down. I helped her pull my shirt over my head, to be tossed in the same direction that hers had flown before, before my hands were on her again.

My first experience with un-hooking someone else's bra was something that I'd rather forget. I hadn't expected it to be so difficult from this new and odd angle and I had a new respect for fumbling teenage boys. I also sent mental apologies to every male that I'd ever mocked for not being able to get my bra off.

When I finally managed to navigate the clasp, it slipped off easily, exposing her completely from the waist up.

"You're beautiful," I told her quietly, mostly because it was the only coherent thought that ran through my head at the sight of her.

"So are you," she replied, unhooking my bra with practiced ease and pulling me forward to press against her.

I realized that it was a cliché, but feeling our naked skin pressed together was something that Harlequin novels could only aspire to. I could feel her pressed against me, the warmth and the softness, and desire hummed louder through my body. I could feel my crotch swell with blood, secreting moisture and demanding attention.

Taking the lead again, I moved away from her lap and knelt beside the sofa, reaching to undo the button and zip off her three-quarter pants, pulling them off and throwing them in the general direction of the growing pile of clothes. A ridiculously small black thong greeted me and I drew in a shaky breath.

She was tinier than I had expected and her narrow hipbones protruded from her body. I ran one finger along each bone, tracing the curve of her shape. On impulse, I leaned down and kissed one, smiling against her soft skin when she gasped.

I hadn't expected it, but I could actually smell her desire from my position and the heady scent hit me with a force that I'd never felt before.

Her underwear was gone before I tried to talk myself out of it and, in just a few seconds, I had this beautiful woman naked before me. I took my time with a visual examination, finishing what I had started when her top had first been removed. My eyes went downwards this time; the slight swell of her lower abdomen, her hipbone, her pubic mound with well-trimmed coarse dark hair, shapely thighs, kneecaps, down her calves to her tiny feet. I was unsurprised to find her toenails painted electric blue. It suited her, somehow.

My visual inventory taken, I wasted no time in parting her thighs and touching my tongue to her clit, flicking over it experimentally, taking delight when her body jumped.

The angle was awkward as hell, but the taste of her made that complaint null and void in a heartbeat. I hadn't known quite what I'd think of doing this to another woman and I knew of men that didn't like the taste. In that moment, though, I could quite confidently say that they were all mad. I was never going to be able to get enough of Lisa, or her scent. I pulled her clit between my lips and sucked, gently increasing the pressure, feeling her body writhe in pleasure. My breasts rubbed against the side of the sofa, the friction adding to the wetness between my own legs.

"Oh, God."

I'd imagined being with a woman once or twice before - pure curiosity at that stage, though - and I'd seen a few lesbian porn movies that previous boyfriends had wanted to watch. I knew the mechanics and the logistics of it all in my head, but hearing her gasp and cry out for her deity felt like nothing I could have ever imagined. The feeling of control, power, dominance, that ran through me was addictive.

I wanted to hear her cry out again, so I doubled my efforts, working her clit as I would have wanted. I kept my mouth entertained with the small nub and I let my other hand explore her crotch. If I’d thought that taking a bra off from a new angle was weird, then nothing had prepared me for what it was like to touch the soft wetness at the apex of her thighs without having to worry about my breasts or belly being in the way.

I was utterly fascinated with the feeling and the texture and the way she moved when my nail tickled across her outer lips. I could feel all of the bumps and ridges of her skin externally and, when I thrust a finger into the slick heat, I could feel the internal details as well. It was one of the most eye-opening experiences that I’d ever had.

Part of me considered that I was approaching this all far too logically, but I reasoned that, while curiosity may have killed the cat, Lisa seemed to be reaping the benefits of mine. I didn’t let up off her clit as I continued to explore this new territory. I licked and sucked at her, letting my fingers touch and tease.

“God… I…” she cried out again, louder this time, her hips bucking upwards against my mouth. I kept my tongue on her clit but the movements slowed, bringing her down from her orgasm as opposed to building her up as it had done only moments ago.

I smiled against her skin, flushed with a mixture of desire and pride. I knew exactly what she was feeling and I relished the fact that I had done that to her. I had turned her into a satisfied lump of jelly that wasn’t sure its legs would work.

Lisa caught her breath for a few moments, eyes closed as she savored the feelings flowing through her. I sat in silence and marveled over what had just happened, an aching throb between my legs.

Her energy apparently back, Lisa managed to maneuver us with something akin to grace until I found myself lying beneath her, our bodies’ slick against each others. She looked at me with something that could only be described as hunger. "Your turn."

***

"So?" She finally asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "So?"

She looked very serious for a moment, before she answered. Her voice, when she spoke again, was deep and a pretty fair impression of manly. "Was it good for you too, baby?"

I laughed, but I nodded. "Yes. It wasn't what I'd expected, though."

"Oh?"

"Not in a bad way," I added hastily. "Just... different to what I'm used to, I suppose."

She nodded. "That's a fair comment."

"You know my body better than any man I've ever been with before," I admitted.

Past experience had taught me that, though I could orgasm with a male partner, they tended to need a map, a miner's hat with a headlamp, two hands and directions from the coastguard to get me there. Lisa hadn't needed any such prompting. I supposed it was true what they said; a woman knows what a woman wants.

“Well, the first time is usually about learning each other, isn’t it?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure if I was frightened or excited by the possibility that she could learn more about bringing me pleasure. I finally settled on the most non-committal response I could think of: “I guess you’re right.”

"What now, then?" she asked, covering her mouth as she yawned. "Sorry."

I knew she wasn’t asking if we should have another ‘practice’ session or not. "I was thinking that I would tell Mark that we’re over. It’s a long over-due ending." I answered honestly. Taking a deep breath, I took the last plunge off the cliff that I knew was safe and into the uncertainty of the air. Would the landing kill me? "And then I thought I might take you to dinner tomorrow night."

"Like a date?"

I couldn't tell if she was flattered, repulsed or amused. Or some combination of all three. "Something like that, yes."

Lisa smiled gently and took my hand. "I'd like that."

***

End