Summer's End (15 page)

“No baby, it was definitely you. With these cute dimples in your cheeks and those big blue eyes. And your toys, of course. Let’s not forget about those.”

“Are you saying it wasn’t my sparkling personality that revived you?” Emily straddled Marianne.

“It was everything about you.” Marianne’s core turned to liquid at the sight of the lust pooling in Emily’s eyes.

Emily let her upper body crash against Marianne’s chest, her nipples already stiffened to hard pebbles.

“God, you’re such a top.”

“A what?” Emily asked, her lips already nuzzling Marianne’s neck.

“Never mind.” Marianne let her hands ride up along Emily’s back. “I’ll explain later.”

Emily’s lips reached her ear. “I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll want to stay forever.”

Marianne believed every word of it.

Emily kissed her way to Marianne’s lips. Their tongues met and Marianne held her close, but, as she had learned, it was impossible to hold Emily too long when she was on a mission. And she appeared to be on one now.

Emily freed herself from Marianne’s embrace and undid the buttons of her blouse. She wore a deep-red bra underneath and when Marianne’s hands rose up to grab at it, Emily swatted them away and pinned them to the sofa for an instant. With her lips drawn into a crooked smile, she brought her hands to her back and unclasped her bra.

Marianne started salivating at the sight of Emily’s pert breasts but Emily was in charge—again, case in point—and she knew better than to lean forward and take Emily’s hard, rosy nipples in her mouth.

Emily reached for the button of Marianne’s jeans next, quickly zipping her out of it as if they’d suddenly landed in the middle of an emergency. She pulled Marianne’s trousers down—knickers and everything—until she sat before her naked from the waist down.

Emily kneeled between her thighs, took each leg and draped it over her shoulders. The last Marianne saw of her face was a wicked grin and a lusty glint in her eyes.

EMILY

Emily was so overwhelmed with emotion, she needed to hide her face somewhere—between Marianne’s thighs seemed like the best option.

She inhaled her, by now, familiar sweet-tangy scent while trailing her tongue along the inside of Marianne’s upper thigh, first the right one, followed by the left one. So much had happened today, so much had changed, and this was, by far, the only way Emily wanted to celebrate.

She had always believed that the happiness that had surged through her when Jasper had proposed could only be topped by the moment they’d say “I do” to each other, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. This was far better. This was who she was, her head buried between another woman’s legs, hoarse moans floating in the air around her, nothing else on her mind but giving Marianne an earth-shattering orgasm.

Her tongue darted along the edge of Marianne’s trimmed pubic hair, only stopping to allow Emily to blow softly on her engorged pussy lips. Her own clit swelled at the sight, already throbbing violently behind soaked panties.

Marianne’s hands had made their way from the spot where Emily had pinned them on the sofa to her hair, tugging at loose strands.

Emily didn’t make her wait much longer. She would have if she could, but she ran on emotion and elation and pure lust, and making Marianne beg for it was not on the agenda tonight. She flicked her tongue softly along the length of Marianne’s lips.

“Oh baby,” the immediate response came from above Emily’s head. “Lick me, please.”

And Emily did. She let her tongue loose on Marianne’s folds, pushing it in as deep as she could, before her lips sucked Marianne’s pulsing clit into her mouth.

Emily felt her own pussy release a stream of liquid heat, and she couldn’t help herself. She had her hands free, anyway. Frantically, she unbuttoned her pants and let a hand slip into her panties, while the other one held onto Marianne’s thigh for support.
 

While she twirled her tongue around Marianne’s clit, her index finger found her own aching bud and she repeated the motion of her tongue with her finger.
 

To bestow pleasure on Marianne, to have her head buried between Marianne’s spread-out legs, was such a turn-on, Emily’s hand was quickly flooded with her own juices, her clit as slick and wet as what lay before her.

“Oh god,” Marianne groaned, and her pleasure only intensified Emily’s. They were held together by one motion.
Flick, circle, flick, circle.
By two body parts of the same person. They were in this together and it was all Emily had ever wanted.

Marianne’s legs clasped against Emily’s ears, giving her the impression she was in a cocoon of love and lust and burgeoning climaxes.

Emily’s orgasm started to build. Her mouth latched on to Marianne’s slippery lips as it crossed through her, spurred on by the convulsing movements of Marianne’s body, so utterly connected to hers.

“Oh,” Marianne moaned, and it was the final straw. Emily came against her own finger, her body sagging against the sofa.

Marianne didn’t give her much time to recover. She lifted her legs off Emily’s shoulders and pulled at her arms, dragging her back onto the sofa.

Emily luxuriated in Marianne’s post-orgasmic embrace, still a little overwhelmed by how extremely right and natural it felt to go down on another woman. How much she wanted it and how much it turned her on.

She lay panting in Marianne’s arms, happiness warming her skin.

Archie crawled onto the sofa and joined them. Just like Emily, he’d taken an immediate shine to Marianne.

“What will you do when you come back?” She asked while scratching Archie behind the ear.

“Compete with this pussy for your attention.” Their fingers met while stroking Archie’s fur.

Emily chuckled, until curiosity got the better of her. “Will you go back into banking?”

Marianne shook her head. “Never.” While her one hand remained on Archie, her other found its way to Emily’s hair. “I honestly don’t know yet.”

“I know the perfect place for you to figure it out.”

“Oh yeah?” Marianne’s fingers had reached the skin of her shoulders, her fingernails hovering over her flesh, leaving goosebumps. “Let me guess.” Marianne pushed herself up a bit to plant a kiss on Emily’s forehead. “Your Laura Ashley bed?”

“Am I that transparent?” Emily drew her lips into a pout.

“You are to me.” Marianne traced a finger from Emily’s neck to her chin. “And we haven’t even started dating yet.”

“I’m Generation Y, infamous for wanting everything here and now. We tend to bypass protocol when we meet a hot woman.”

“You can say that again.” Marianne tilted Emily’s chin towards her. “You’d barely come out of the closet and you were already trying to get into my pants.”

“Pants topped by faded black t-shirts sporting eighties icons, to be more specific.” Emily leaned in for a kiss. She had expected to find some sort of relief in Asia, or at least, for a little while, an easy way out, but she had never expected to meet her soul mate on a Thai island.

MARIANNE

Marianne’s flight from Bangkok to Heathrow had been uneventful fellow passenger and weather wise, but a turbulence had been steadily building in her gut from the minute they had departed. She’d sold the Lodge to Sam who had assured her it would not be bulldozed by land developers. She’d packed up her few belongings, filled a few boxes with the books from her library and shipped them to her parents’ house for safekeeping until she found her own place.

Her father, who, despite being retired, still taught heavily attended guest lectures at his university, had promised to enquire about an assistant teaching position in the Economics department. Her mother had insisted that Marianne stay with them when she arrived until she got on her feet but, as expected, Emily would have none of that.

These were all practicalities. Issues that had a tendency to work themselves out. She had made enough money from the sale of the Lodge to live on for a while. And she’d surely be spending her nights in Emily’s bed. But, had she, after all was said and done, made the right decision?

Would leaving her cocoon be worth it? Going to London with a return ticket in her pocket was an entirely different experience than arriving with no definite plans for the future. She’d had to shed her armour before boarding the plane. She had to leave it behind, because there was no more room for the old her in London.

A million questions had kept her awake on the flight, despite the bottle of red wine she’d polished off—something that usually did the trick. The holidays were fast approaching—a time of year she always expertly ignored at the Lodge—and for the first time in years she’d have family commitments. Perhaps even a tree. For the first time in years she’d have to give the memories a place. She’d have to catalogue them as the past while looking at the future, at Emily.

It was all easy enough to theorise about, to dream of out loud over Skype, but what would it actually feel like to step into the arrival’s lounge and start another new life. Marianne was about to find out.

She collected her luggage and was again baffled by the fact that all the belongings she’d wanted to take fit into two suitcases. She took a deep breath before pushing the trolley through the glass gate.

Spotting Emily instantly in the thick crowd, an unfamiliar warmth engulfed her. Any doubt that had formed on the way over, dissipated at the sight of the blonde curls peeking from under Emily’s pink woolen hat.
 

Don’t cry, please, don’t cry
. But the tears were already rolling down Marianne’s cheeks.

They stood facing each other for a few seconds, as if needing to let the moment and all its consequences sink in, before opening their arms and falling into a hug.

“Welcome to your new life,” Emily whispered, between sobs, into her ear.

Marianne held her close for long minutes and everything fell away. The people around them. The reasons for doubting her decision. All the things that didn’t matter. It was her and Emily now.

Marianne looked down at the grey marble headstone. “I’m back,” she whispered. “I’ve met someone who taught me how to live again.” She inhaled the crisp mid-November air. “I think you’d like her.” She reached for the gloved hand dangling next to hers and squeezed it.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Emily said in a soft voice. “It means a lot.”

“I’m ready, babe.” Marianne faced away from the headstone and looked into Emily’s blue eyes. “I’m ready to start living again.”

Emily’s lips curved into a smile, her cheeks dimpling and her eyes saying all that needed to be said. “You do realise that now you’re ‘temporarily’ staying with me, you’ll never be able to move out, right?”

Marianne giggled, but her giggle soon turned into a deep belly laugh. “And you really don’t know any of the lesbian jokes, do you?”

The look of vexed indignation on Emily’s face was priceless. Marianne pulled her close and kissed her before turning to Ingrid’s headstone once more.
 

She grabbed Emily by the hand and, fingers intertwined, they walked away.

“I did my research on toaster ovens and U-Hauls, you know,” Emily said once they’d exited the cemetery.

Marianne chuckled. “I love you,” she said, as she drew Emily near and kissed her again. “Maybe we should get another kitten.”

THE END

Dear reader,

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Summer’s End
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Harper

About the author

Harper Bliss has travelled the world in search of sexual satisfaction. She now resides in a hot Asian country and dedicates her time to writing down the stories that have inspired and aroused her.

Harper has had short stories published in anthologies by Xcite Books, House of Erotica, Storm Moon Press and Coming Together. She is the author of the
High Rise series
and several other titles for Ladylit.

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[email protected]

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