Ch. 5 - Craft
We should have chosen a different day. The Englishman was packed on Friday. It wasn't helped by the live music from Lunulata, a local psychedelic band. They were good, but far enough out there that I felt I'd need to listen to them on Spotify for several hours before I'd glean anything from what they were playing, though it didn't seem to be a problem for their fans.
In spite of the throng, a bartender took enough time to talk to us when we asked for the beer we'd had at the Black Wedding. He said it was one they carried on a rotating schedule, and it wasn't currently available. He didn't have time to check when it would be back, but he took Rachel's number to text her when he could. I rolled my eyes at her.
She asked if there was anything similar, and he gave us each a sample of a different brew which tasted great, so we took two. Rachel managed to snag a table ahead of competition when she saw a couple leaving.
We had to use raised voices to hear each other, but the racket gave us plenty of privacy. I raised my glass to her.
"So, are you nervous?" Rachel asked.
"About?"
"First date jitters?"
"You know, I am," I said, honestly. "It's been years since I've been on any kind of date."
"Charlotte?" Rachel asked, her voice barely audible over the noise, but seeing the movement of her lips clarified my hearing.
I nodded.
"I'm not her," Rachel said.
I nodded, mutely, but after a moment I grinned. "Thank God for that," I said, then took a sip of my beer.
Rachel looked relieved, returning my grin. "So. First date," she said, again, then added, "When the U-Haul happens, are you moving into mine, or am I sharing your cottage with the pussies?"
I barely managed to avoid spitting my beer back into my glass. I coughed through my nose, then finally managed to swallow the mouthful. "Jesus Christ, Rache!" I grabbed the napkin from under my glass and coughed again. "We are thirty seconds into a date in an already fraught situationship and you're ready to U-Haul?"
"Not ready, but you know it will happen," she said. "Admit it. We are both lesbians."
She had a huge, irreverent grin on her face. I knew what she was doing - easing my fears by over-the-top claims - and I appreciated it. "I admit nothing," I said, "but definitely the cottage. There's no way your apartment is so cute."
"That's true," Rachel said.
"And does it allow kitties?"
"Mmm. I'd have to check my lease. I think so, with a deposit. But why uproot them? Right, it's settled, I'm moving in with you."
"In your dreams," I said.
"That would be a good start," Rachel agreed.
"As good as this beer is, I'm getting hoarse," I said. "You want to go get pizza? Or there's a late night cafe downtown." I didn't want to suggest the Lion. Not yet.
"They're open till midnight. Why don't we do both?" Rachel suggested. "We're on a date. Let's live dangerously!"
The rest of my beer vanished quickly and easily. Rachel summoned a ride, and we squeezed out of the table and pushed our way to the door.
"Pizza and coffee is hardly dangerous," I said into the blissfully quiet outside air.
"Coffee at midnight can be dangerous. If we can't sleep, who knows what we might have to do to pass the night?" Rachel countered.
I laughed, then shook my head. "Not tonight, Rache. I want to get to know you without being distracted by hot sex."
"Am I going to have to wait for the third date?"
"Fifth, at least," I said. "Maybe seventh. Maybe seventeenth."
"Damn, you're a tease," she said.
The ride took us to an Italian restaurant around the corner from the coffee shop. We talked - bantered and shared more than we'd done before - through dinner, which I insisted on paying for, then walked hand-in-hand to the coffee shop. I didn't feel nervous any longer. I felt charged, but also normal. No molly-induced emotions. No gyrating in a painted-on dress at a rock wedding. Just two women holding hands, getting coffee together.
I should have known that normal wasn't going to be enough for Rachel.
"You know, if you and I have to wait for the seventeenth date, maybe Ms. Perry could entertain Ms. Turner. Or vice-versa."
"God, you don't stop, do you?" I said, with a laugh.
She tugged on my hand, bringing me to a halt, then turning me to face her. "Mandy," she said, "you need to know that no one fucks me like you do. You make me feel. If it takes seventy-seven dates I'll still be waiting to feel you."
Before I could even try to reply, she'd hooked her free finger under my chin, lifting it as she pressed her parted lips to mine. Her tongue found mine, and a moment later, her lips closed on my tongue. She sucked gently before releasing me.
The kiss was no more than ten seconds long, but it left me breathing heavily and feeling my panties turn damp. I shuddered, but Rachel just smirked and led me on toward the coffee place.
"Fucking chemistry," I mumbled.
"Exactly," Rachel agreed.
"There's something I have to tell you," I said. We'd picked up our coffee and pastries, and were sitting in relative silence, which was a relief after the bar and even the restaurant.
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
I wasn't sure about the wisdom of saying what I intended, but I'd said what I did to force myself to continue, so now I had to.
"You said at lunch that you weren't going to ask for exclusivity," I said. "If we're dating, I want that."
"Well yeah," Rachel said. "I guess it's best to be explicit, but I think dating implies that."
"Yeah, great," I said. "Except, I haven't been, and I think you need to know that. If you're going to trust me, I can't hide it from you."
She frowned. "You haven't been? But we weren't exclusive, because we weren't dating."
"Right, but still..." I sighed. "I decided I couldn't see you, that there couldn't be anything between us, so I was single. And I needed to get back to what worked for me - well, worked better than being alone. If I hadn't been stupid about trust, I'd have waited. I... I understand if that means you can't trust me, or if you want to wait before maybe becoming exclusive later."
"Babe, we weren't exclusive," Rachel said. "We weren't dating. You were single. I had no expectations." Then her serious expression softened into a half-grin. "But I hope she was good."
The way my cheeks heated must have answered her question. I sighed, feeling lighter for having told her, then took a bite of my pastry.
Rachel watched me for a few moments, then reached out to give my hand a quick squeeze. I looked up and returned her smile.
"You know what?" I said. "Fuck seventeen dates. Come home with me. My cats miss you."
"They do?" Rachel's mischievous smile was wide.
"Who cares?" I said. "They certainly don't. They're cats. Let's get coffees to go, though, just in case we do need help staying awake."
The cats were hungry, but that was easily solved. Feeding them also meant that I knew where they were. I ushered Rachel into the bedroom, closed the door, and approached her, my fingers taking the top button of her peach blouse and opening it.
She tried to reach for my tee shirt, but I shook my head. "My turn," I said.
"Who put you in charge?" Rachel griped.
"My cottage, my rules," I said.
That silenced Rachel until I was at the last button. "Wait. Does that mean after the U-Haul it will always be your rules?"
"You're catching on," I said, as I parted her blouse.
I moved in to kiss her, but she held me back, her eyes dark. "I know we're just kidding around," she said, huskily, "but you just made me twice as wet as I was."
Pressing my forehead to hers, I ran a finger over her cheek. "You secretly like me taking charge," I said.
"God, don't ever tell Lauren, okay?"
She released her hold, and I closed the distance between us, but kept the kiss restrained, in spite of Rachel pushing for more. I sank my fingers into her long blonde hair, repositioning her face by tugging on it while my tongue brushed hers.
Untangling my right hand from her hair, I eased her bra strap over her shoulders, peeling it down to free her already firm nipple, taking it in my fingers and rolling it. Then I dropped my face to it, the nipple barely distinguishable in color from the rest of her breast. I suckled as I pulled her blouse all the way off and began to unfasten her black denim capris.
Speaking into Rachel's breast, I asked her, "Would you like me to tie you up?"
"Jesus, Mandy," she groaned.
"I'm going to take that as a yes," I said, pulling down her capris, as usual, far too tight on her lean thighs. She willingly stepped out of them, and out of her pale pink underwear when I slid them down.
"Take off your bra," I instructed, before heading to my closet to bring out a rarely-used cardboard box. Rachel was sitting wide-eyed on the bed. Her pointed nipples and glistening skin around the closely shaved landing strip on her sex testified to her excitement.
Taking out a pair of soft handcuffs, I opened them, then leaned behind Rachel - pausing for a moment to admire her delectable body - tightening the straps around her wrists before clipping their short, lightweight chains together, leaving her arms behind her back with almost no freedom of movement.
I pushed her onto her back, guiding her down, since she had no control, then shifted her to the center of my queen bed. Then I took more straps, binding her ankles to her thighs.
Her tone seemed nervous when she asked, "What are you going to do?"
"Play with you," I said, with a wicked grin. I pulled off my tee shirt, then my jeans, to stand before her in halter and basic panties. I'd absolutely not planned for the evening to end with sex.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," Rachel said, and I could see the truth of it in her eyes. The truth that, at least, she thought so. I was thrilled that she liked my curves.
Taking a small ivory wand out of the box, I turned it on, testing the buzz against my arm. "I hope this is fully charged," I said. "It would be disappointing if it didn't last." Then I began to tease her with the head of the wand, on her upper thighs and all over her body, but never quite touching her sex, letting her need build. Only then did I let it approach her mons, making her breath hiss sharply between groans.
Slowly, I approached her clit with the vibe. She began to writhe on the bed, but I turned the vibe off before she could come. She made a frustrated sound, then panted softly.
Licking my finger, I lightly caressed her clit, but again, stopped before she was too close to the point of no return, though I risked pushing her very close to that place.
After the next round with the vibrator, I pushed a finger into her, curling it and twisting my hand to run it against her inner wall.
"Mandy, why are you evil?" Rachel whined.
"You bring out the devil in me, honey," I said, and returned to vibing her thighs.
I still didn't let her come. Instead, I located my harness, buckling it on after taking off my panties. Then I held two silicone dildos for her choice. "Are you okay with this?" I asked.
"God, yes," she groaned, then nodded at the wider one, with heavy ridging. I fastened it in place, then played with the vibe until she was moaning, almost sobbing with need.
Unclipping the straps around her thighs, I freed her ankles, then, sitting, pulled them around my waist. I had to lift her and turn her in my lap, until she was in an upright position, since she couldn't use her hands.
The most awkward part was impaling her on the dildo, since I needed both hands to lift her, but when she was close to position, I wrapped my left arm around her, pinning her against my chest, while I used my right to guide the toy into her. She cursed a few times, but each time she shook her head when I looked at her, until she had entirely engulfed the toy.
"Is this okay?" I asked.
"Fuck, Mandy," she said. A moment later, she added, "Please take off your bra."
"Oh, yeah," I said. "I should have started with that."
It was a little awkward to unfasten my bra, since I didn't want her falling backward off my lap, but she leaned against my shoulder while I unsnapped it and drew it off. Then, holding her against me, I started to roll my hips.
She began to moan almost immediately, but it was a full five minutes before she gasped rapidly and loudly. She cried out as she came. I didn't stop moving. Instead, I kissed her breasts, hard, and her extreme arousal pushed her into a series of orgasms, her body stiffening against me each time.
Finally, she whispered, "Please, babe... that's all."
It was easier for me to detach her from me than it had been to move her in place, and soon she was lying on her back in the center of the bed as her breathing slowed.
I unclamped the dildo and removed the harness. Then I clambered onto the bed and straddled her chest, backing up until my sex was over her face.
"Fuck, yeah, babe," Rachel whispered. "Come closer."
When I leaned forward, my hands on either side of her chest, Rachel began to lick me with enthusiasm. It didn't take long until the orgasm fairy appeared to grant my wish.
I helped Rachel sit upright so that I could unfasten her cuffs. "I should leave you like this," I said. "Keep you out of trouble."
"You like my trouble, babe," she said, and I sighed in agreement.
There was a smile on her lips. As satisfied as she clearly was, this looked more like mischief than contentment.
I sighed again. "What are you thinking now?"
"It's bad," she said. "Really bad."
"Worse than squirting on my shirt?"
"Different kind of bad."
"I'm going to regret asking, aren't I?" I said. "What is it?"
She waved a hand toward my nightstand. My toys were sitting on a paper towel, waiting for me to take the time to clean them. "You used your wand," she said.
"Uh, yeah? Shouldn't I? It was completely clean."
"Your fairy wand."
I groaned. "Oh, God, you didn't go there!"
"I totally did! You fucked me with your fairy wand!"
She started to laugh. I joined in.
"Two wands," I said. "I fucked you with two wands! And I have more!"
She grabbed me and threw herself back onto the bed, so that I fell onto her.
"So many wands!" Rachel giggled. "My fairy is well-endowed."
My fairy. Why did that sound so good?
"If you breathe a word of this to Lauren, I'm stuffing those wands right up your butt," I said.
"Oh yeah? I'm calling her right now! Let go of me!" Rachel cried, as I pinned her in place. We struggled until I found her mouth with mine, silencing her laughter.
"You don't have to leave before morning, do you?" I asked, several minutes later, running my fingers through badly tousled blonde hair.
"I don't really have to leave until Sunday," she said, "but how about I go home tomorrow afternoon, then take you on our second date in the evening?"
"Where to?" I asked.
"No idea, yet," Rachel said. "Somewhere more romantic than beer sampling in a crowded pub."
Romantic. Yeah. I could finally allow myself to see that. Romance didn't require me to believe that a relationship would last forever, just that I could trust my partner. And I could trust Rachel.
As I pulled her to me, tangling my naked body with hers, I was thinking she just might be right. The U-Haul might not be too far in our future.