Chapter 10 - Sunshine

The sun was streaming through the window as I slowly persuaded sleep-infused eyes to take in the day. Relearning how to focus, I discovered a woman, lying supine on the other side of the bed. Bedsheets were knotted around her thighs, but she was otherwise uncovered. Her golden hair lay tangled around her head.

The woman's body was inked, and I took the time to appreciate the art. A sinuous form twined around each forearm. I thought at first that they were serpents, but closer inspection showed them to be winged skeletons. Bone dragons.

Her upper left arm was an elaborate design in black of a pair of human skeletons, intertwined in an embrace. The upper right held the only non-skeletal design - a girl, made up as a goth, with untidy hair. Her expression seemed amused. She wore a dark cami top, an ankh suspended from her neck.

Between the naked woman's breasts was the rose I'd noticed last night. Its stem emerged from entwined branches of thorns, which curved around and onto the lower edge of each breast. A butterfly in red and blue, lay entirely on the swell of her left breast. It and the blood-red rose were the only tattoos with colors other than black and gray.

Dylan's beautifully colored plant design might be more to my liking, but this work was exquisite, finely drawn and fascinating.

The naked woman shifted and attempted to tug the sheet higher, but only tightened the snarled cloth. I looked up, startled, to find her wide awake and watching me.

"Studying my tattoos?" Michelle asked.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Isn't it painful to have your boobs tattooed?"

Michelle winced. "Very."

"I like your Death." I waved my and toward her right bicep.

She smirked. "Glad you recognize her."

"I'm mostly a video game nerd," I replied, "but I can cosplay a comic book nerd when needed. It's why I'm interested in Austin's project. How's your head?"

"Not bad," she said.

"Same," I said. "I'm surprised. Maybe we burned off the hangover toxins."

"Could be," she agreed. "I'll brew coffee." She rose a little unsteadily, then headed to the kitchen.

After she was out of bed, I rolled over to her side, then followed her out, finding the living room, then locating my purse. It was a little after eight-thirty, according to my phone. On the way back, I stopped to observe Michelle in the kitchen.

"Hmm?" she grunted when she saw me. "Anything up?"

"Just watching," I said. "I didn't mean to spend the night. Should I hurry home?"

Michelle shrugged. "No need," she said. "I've no plans until mid-afternoon. What about you?"

I held my hand over my mouth to hide a yawn. I needed the coffee she was making. The scent of the grounds was making it clear just how much. "I'm fine, too. If you don't mind, I'll take a shower before leaving."

"No problem," she said. "How do you take your coffee?"

"One sugar," I said. "Milk if you have it, but without is fine."

"I have milk," Michelle said. "Cream, if you prefer."

"Sure," I said, then headed back to the bedroom.

Our two cocktail glasses, both still half full, where sitting beside the bed. I took them to the kitchen. I knew which was which Michelle's and which was mine by the color of the lipstick smears. "Should I rinse these out?" I asked. "Where should I toss the olives?"

"Just leave the glasses," the blonde woman said. "I'll take care of them."

I nodded and left, then took my purse into the bathroom and brushed my teeth with the travel-sized toothpaste and toothbrush I had with me, feeling proud of myself for my basic preparation.

Returning to the bedroom, I pulled the sheets into place before getting back into bed. Michelle arrived a moment later with two mugs, handing me one. Glancing at her body, I felt a stirring of lust, but decided I shouldn't initiate foreplay, even after my coffee. I'd overstayed my one-night stand expectation.

"I have to say," I began, after the coffee began to take effect, "that now I'm sober, I can look back on your gig last night and see that it was pretty fucking incredible. Are you going to try to make it big?"

She pursed her lips. "I mean, we all want to. We've been getting our songs out there. It's going to take hard work and bigger shows. We're giving away downloads and have videos on our website to build an audience, since music services suck for indie bands. As you saw, we're filling local venues."

"You'll need to find more girls to satisfy your post-gig lust," I said, with a chuckle.

"Maybe I'll try to tempt you to be a regular with free admission and booze,"

"Maybe you'll succeed," I admitted. "Have you ever hooked up with your guitarist? She seems to have a ton of energy."

"Sydney," Michelle said. "We almost did, once. Fortunately we were sober at the time, and decided it would probably fuck up the band. If that hadn't happened, we probably would have done after a successful show, and it would have been a disaster. And yeah, she's awesome."

"She owned that last number," I said.

"Didn't she?" Michelle replied, with a grin.

My coffee was almost gone. "Could I borrow soap and a towel?" I asked.

"Yeah, of course," she said. "Let me find you a bath towel. Everything else is in the bathroom."

My eyes tracked her as she slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, returning a moment later with a neatly-folded bath towel, which I took. There was a large walk-in shower and a double marble vanity. Something seemed unusual about the room, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I shrugged off the feeling, then as soon as as I had the water to my liking, I stepped into the shower and began to soap myself down.

With the sound of the water, I didn't hear Michelle approach until the shower door opened with a small click and a breath of cooler air. I was facing the shower head, trying to keep my hair dry, when hands slipped around me and began to lather soap over my breasts, squeezing and pinching. My nipples swelled to their touch.

Feeling her breath on my neck, I turned back, meeting her mouth with mine. She kneaded my breasts as we kissed, and I felt myself make a soft sound of arousal.

Michelle's hands left my breasts, and a moment later I felt slick fingers caress my labia. I glanced down, nervous about her using soap, but she'd set her container of lube on the ledge in the long wall of the shower, and was lubing me inside and out.

"What are you doing?" I groaned.

Her wordless reply was the pressure of the smooth, well-lubricated silicone shaft sliding between my legs, then pushing between my labia. "Oh, God," I groaned. I set my hands against the wall for support, warm water drenching my hair, since my head was now directly below the shower head.

Michelle continued to apply lube as she slipped more deeply into me. Her knees were bent to grant her access to my passage, but I raised my left leg to allow her easier entry. I found that if I rested my knee against the low shelf I didn't need to hold it up, and she could penetrate me completely.

Warm water sheeted down my breasts until Michelle covered them with her hands again and began to move. I felt myself filled by the toy, the sensual massage of it moving inside me erotic, as was the feeling of being warm and wet everywhere. I moaned as my passion rose quickly. Supporting myself in this position was uncomfortable, and after a time I relaxed the pressure of my hands against the wall, leaning forward. Turning my face to the side, I let it take rest against the wall, holding me upright, as Michelle's hands controlled my movements by their hold on my breasts.

After several minutes, her hands vanished from my breasts. A few seconds later, the left returned, but her right hand reached around my leg, then well-lubed fingers touched my clit and began to stroke.

In less than a minute, I was gasping with need, my climax barely out of reach, and approaching every second. Then it arrived, blossoming within me, and my body froze for a few seconds as the pulsing pleasure threatened to collapse my supporting leg.

When the thrilling contractions were subsiding, I moved my left foot back to the floor, easing the shaft out of me as I stood upright. Then I turned to face Michelle, leaning against the long wall. Setting my feet on either side of her, I picked up the lube, refreshing the coating all along the strap-on. The shower would be rinsing off both the water-based lube and my own wetness, so if I wanted the toy back inside me, it needed a new coat.

And I did want the toy there. I placed one foot on either side of Michelle, leaning against the wall, and slowly took the shaft into me, guiding it in with my fingers as she held my waist. When it was completely inside, I moved my hands behind me to the ledge, sliding my feet slightly forward, so that my body was inclined against hers, connected firmly by the toy.

We both moved, taking a few strokes to synchronize our rhythm. "How does it feel for you with the base inside you?" I asked. "It can't be the same as a regular strap-on."

Michelle shook her head. "It's not. But it presses my G-spot, so it feels a little strange, but once I get aroused it can be great."

"And are you aroused now?" I asked, winking at her.

"Better believe it," she replied.

Grinning, I leaned forward to kiss her. She returned the kiss, but briefly, avoiding getting drawn in.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "I did brush my teeth."

Her lips quirked up. "Yeah, so did I." After a pause, she sighed, then added, "Let's try that again."

Our lips joined again, and this time she responded, and in short order we were devouring one another's tongues. I groaned as the electric charge in my belly began to grow.

"Wrap your arms around me," Michelle murmured. I did so, carefully, since I was losing my support, and didn't want to slip. I'd probably knock her legs out from under here, and we'd end up in a tangle on the wet shower floor.

When my arms were around her back, Michelle moved her hands to my butt, lifting me, my back against the wall. My legs were no longer needed to support my body, so I wrapped them around her thighs, moaning softly as she bounced me, the shaft filling me, sliding in and out, my arousal spiking.

Michelle's breathing showed that she was going to beat me to the crest, and I wasn't close enough to join her. When she came, she froze, and I was afraid she'd drop me, so I lowered my feet to the floor, feeling the shaft spasm within me as her orgasm gripped her. But her face softened with pleasure, and soon enough she was moving me again.

My breasts were squashed to Michelle's, rolling against them as we moved. I wanted to take hers into my mouth, but that wouldn't be possible here. I promised myself I'd take her to bed one more time before I left.

And then I started to pant. Michelle slammed harder against me, sensing that I was close to the edge, and a few rapid heartbeats later my climax tore into me. I whimpered into my partner's mouth as pulsing excitement filled me. My body writhed against her, and my moans seemed to excite her, as our kiss deepened, her tongue flicking against mine, lips and teeth moving against my lips, finding my tongue, suckling... Even after the erotic contractions faded, our kiss seemed to have reached a new level of intimacy.


Michelle dumped the strapless strap-on in a corner of the shower, to deal with cleanup later. For myself, I was resting my backside on the ledge, my breathing still not slowed to normal. When she turned off the shower, I moved up to her, pressed her against the wall and kissed her until she groaned. Her odd reticence seemed to have faded with the excitement of using the toy.

After a minute or two, she broke the kiss, panting. "We'll get cold, standing here without drying off," she complained.

"I'll warm you up," I offered.

"I'm sure you would, but let me towel off first."

"Only if I can warm you up in bed," I said.

"Yeah, yeah," Michelle said, with a smile.

My hair was going to be a mess. I'd have to deal with it later. I scrubbed it with the towel, then quickly patted myself off, as Michelle did the same.

Both of us laughing, I chased Michelle to the bed, then pushed her down onto our and climbed onto her.

"Wait. Why do you get to be on top?" she complained.

"'Cause you just fucked me with a toy," I said. "My turn to be in charge."

"Valid," she said.

"Maybe I'll give you a special treat," I said. When Michelle raised her eyebrows, I reached for my glasses on the nightstand, flipped them open and put them on.

She grinned. "I thought you were repulsed by glasses fetishism."

"I'll tolerate it this time," I said, with a grin. "Just for you."

With no more ado, I covered her mouth with mine. I was still reeling from that last climax in the shower, and I think Michelle must have been, too, because I could feel her excitement. We both groaned with passion, seeking a deeper connection in the kiss. My hands caressed the side of her breasts, while hers squeezed my butt.

Breaking for air, a couple of minutes later, I gasped, "If this is what wearing my glasses does to you, I should have done it earlier."

Michelle's laugh sounded a little taut, but when I rejoined her mouth she seemed more desperate than ever for the contact. I wanted to kiss her breasts, but I held off for a couple of minutes more, until she moaned into my mouth.

Breaking the kiss, I slid down her body to suckle. my fingers and thumbs squeezed her breasts as my teeth caressed her swollen, pebbly areola, which made her squirm. Loving the ability to make her wriggle with arousal, I kept that up for a time before parting my lips and suckling.

With the tip of her breast firmly caught between my lips, I turned my face up, my chin pressing into her breasts, to see her eyes softened by desire, her lips parted. Maybe wearing glasses really had made her extra-horny. Or maybe the intimacy of the last use of the strap-on broke through her inhibitions.

As close as we'd been since last night, other than during the final few moments before sleep, she'd seemed to want to keep a distance. Enjoy the sex, avoid the feelings. But I had always enjoyed sex more if I indulged my feelings, even for Monday night one-night stands.

Sex in the shower seemed to have changed the calculation, and our playful kissing and flirting afterward had eased the tension and made the closeness more real. It seemed almost as though we'd been playing by Michelle's rules to this point - which we largely had, from her invitation to her possessive comments to her setting the pace - and now we were following my preferences of intimacy and sharing desire.

So as long as the ball was in my court, I'd make it count for Michelle. I slipped further down her body and ran kisses over her inner thighs, lifting her knees to seek out more places for my lips to reach. She was still watching me, panting softly, nervous anticipation in her gaze as she knew what I was postponing, and wanted it.

Setting my hands under her thighs, I lifted Michelle's legs from the bed until her knees hovered close to her chest. Stretching my fingers across the back of each thigh, I used my thumbs beside her pussy to draw apart the surface of her skin, exposing her clitoris. Then I gently drew my tongue over the surface of her clit, making her pelvis rise from the bed, arching her back.

My actions deliberately unhurried, I continued to run my tongue over her clit, interspersing this with kisses around her sex and on her labia. Michelle grew needier by the moment, trying to press her sex to my mouth, and I avoided yielding to her demands.

She began to beg. "Please, Kayla... God, please..."

I murmured "Soon," with my lips to her clit, and her body quivered.

Then I let each stroke last a little longer, bringing her closer to her reward. I stroked down, then back up. I didn't push her into climax, but I was ready when she reached it, taking her clit between my lips and sucking, circling with my tongue to keep her soaring as her moans became a series of cries that grew in strength before fading to naught.

Only then did I release her, waiting for another thirty seconds before moving up to kiss her briefly on the lips.

Holding her hands in mine, intertwining our fingers, I began to rock my hips, sliding my body up and down against her, my thighs between hers. I pressed my sex to hers, and we moved more strongly. My chin rested on her shoulder, our bodies connected by passion.

After a time, I raised my face. Michelle saw me still wearing my glasses above her, and gave me a small grin. Then she sought my lips, and our kiss was intensely intimate, my hands still holding hers. She made a soft sigh into the kiss, her breath shuddering, and moved harder against me.

Feeling her smooth pussy caressing mine, I pushed back, and we started to bounce softly on the bed. There was a faintest of rhythmic creaks, which grew steadily louder, until Michelle tore her hands from mine and wrapped them around my back, gasping in need.

My body responded to her desire, and I felt my arousal swell in a crescendo, until I felt Michelle shudder, and heard her cry out as she came with me, my sex falling into a series of rapid contractions of pure pleasure.


After a minute or two, I rolled off Michelle and lay beside her. "Somehow," I said, my voice sounding a little throaty, "I feel like I'm glad I overslept. For a one night stand, that was a lot."

Michelle laughed. "I told you, a good gig makes me horny. Seems it made you horny, too. Maybe I'll let you know when the next convenient show will be."

"I'd hate to be there for an inconvenient show," I agreed. "I guess I should find my clothes."

Michelle pouted, but said, "Yeah, we already pushed the rules of one night stands to the breaking point."

"Well beyond, I think," I said. Much as I'd be tempted to go to another show soon, it would be as much of a risk as seducing the same girl several Mondays in a row. I sighed and sat up. "You really did like me keeping my glasses on?"

"I really did," she said.

"It seems like a harmless enough fetish," I agreed. "If there is a next time, I'll be sure to wear them again."

Michelle beamed at me.

Everything I needed was on her side of the bed, but so was she, so if I didn't want to climb over her, I needed to get out on the other side, where there was only a narrow gap. I swung my legs down, then yelped.

"What's wrong?" Michelle asked.

I leaned down to pick up a pair of narrow heels. "These," I said with a laugh, dropping them on the bed. "It's no big deal."

When I glanced up, though, it seemed that it was a big deal. Michelle's face had gone pale. I looked back at the shoes. "Huh. I took your boots off last night. You're a tall girl. Your feet aren't this small. Maybe left over from the last horny gig?"

"Uh, yeah," she said. "Maybe someone... forgot..." Her voice trailed off, perhaps as she realized how unlikely it would be for someone to leave without their shoes.

I had a horrible thought. A realization, really. This pleasant little suburban house, that surely must be out of the range of a part-time bartender and musician. And I realized what had caught my eye in the bathroom. What it was that didn't seem quite right. "Both washbasins have their own toiletry collection," I said. "Michelle, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Not exactly," she said, looking ill.

"How is it not exactly?" I asked. "Your boyfriend wouldn't wear those shoes."

She lifted one up, then dropped it to the bed. "They're my wife's."

"Your wife's?" I asked, thunderstruck. "You're married?" I felt as sick as she looked. "You just spent the last half day cheating on your wife - with me?"

"Well, yeah, technically," she said.

"Technically? How is fucking me only technically cheating? Are you separated?" I demanded. "Why are her shoes here if she doesn't live here?"

Michelle's anger flared. "She hardly does! She's always traveling! She's in Boston this weekend. She won't know anything about you. I told you I'm always bringing girls home. She doesn't know!"

"That makes it alright, does it?" I asked, my voice rising. "That makes it alright for me to be the other woman? Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Now I know why you resisted being intimate. You don't mind fucking me, but making love" - I made airquotes - "makes you feel guilty, doesn't it?"

"Christ, you kept making it intimate," she whined.

"Yeah, I did," I agreed. "I did. Because I wanted to be intimate with you. I wanted to feel you. I wanted you to feel me. Because I trusted you, and I wanted to give you something special. And now I learn that I was twisting the knife in your wife's gut, even if she didn't know there was a fucking knife. Did you think she'd be okay if we kept our distance? 'Oh, it's fine dear, I only fucked her, we didn't, like, kiss or anything.'"

"It's not your problem," Michelle yelled. Her face was white, except for her cheeks, which were rosy with anger. "You didn't know I was married. You have no responsibility. Did you ask if Ms. Green Dress was married?"

I frowned, thinking it through. "You know I didn't," I said, "but that has nothing to do with me betraying your wife now. Are you saying I need to create a questionnaire to sleep with someone? It was your responsibility to tell me. I hope I never fucking meet your wife, and I hope she doesn't name me as a factor in your upcoming divorce."

I stomped through the narrow access and started collecting my stuff.

"How can you be so fucking self-righteous?" Michelle demanded. "You take home a different girl every week, but I can't even work off my performer's high?"

I tossed my dress over my arm. I located my underwear, but I just didn't want to deal with them. They'd been wet with my arousal yesterday. I really didn't want to wear them. Also, I'd chosen them for the sexy lace trim, because I might be spending the night with a girl. Now the association just felt disgusting. I took them into the bathroom and tossed them in the trash.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you married her," I said. "Or told her about how your gigs make you feel, if you were already married. She doesn't know, does she?"

"She doesn't know," Michelle agreed. Both of us had lowered our voices to conversational level, though I'm sure my tone sounded as bitter to her as she sounded to me.

"The adult store has some very effective vibrators," I said. "If one of them can't take the edge off your gig needs, you should try to work something out with her. You should probably separate. I know, I know, not my business, but I feel like a complete shit for betraying her, and you should feel worse for doing it regularly."

Michelle stared at me, sullenly as I pulled my dress up and zipped it, then sat to put my shoes on. Then I started the app and ordered an Uber. "You might want to empty your bathroom trash. I don't want your wife finding out about me - about us - by discovering my underwear."

I left, to wait outside in the chilly air for the car. Without reapplying boob tape, I jounced around inside the dress, but I wasn't planning on dancing between here and my apartment. I'd be fine.