A Long List of Firsts: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

by Sabrina Kane

  Rachel stood there, mouth agape, hands on hips, watching Ainsley march her laundry to the closet.

  “Excuse me,” Rachel began, “but I have been cleaning up after you ever since Saturday!”

  Ainsley, her errand to the hamper done, approached Rachel and stood in front of her, also with her hands on her hips. Rachel gave a little snort of derision. If Ainsley thought she was going to intimidate her with her height, she was going to discover just how idiotic an idea that was.

  “Is that so?” Ainsley asked.

  Rachel nodded.

  “Yeah, Ains; that’s so. Dirty dishes left everywhere, shoes left everywhere. A bra left on the dining room table? How does that even happen?” Rachel threw up her arms in exasperation. “No, seriously…explain that to me, Ainsley. How does a woman—a surgeon, no less—come home, walk into the dining room and think to herself, ‘Gee, this as good a place as any to start getting undressed?’”

  Ainsley’s response was to just shift her weight to her other leg while staring daggers at Rachel.

  “I could almost—almost—understand it,” Rachel went on, “if I had found the rest of your clothes in the dining room also. That kind of makes sense. But no, it was just the bra. Which means, you came home, entered the dining room, took off your top, your bra and who knows what else but then only left the bra behind while taking the rest of your clothes to the bedroom. As a woman, that sequence of events does not make any sense to me!”

  Ainsley, her face red either from blushing or being angry—Rachel didn’t know—cocked an eyebrow.

  “Are you done?” she asked.

  “About the weird juxtaposition of bra on the dining room table, yeah.”

  “Fine,” Ainsley snapped. “I’ll have you know that on that day, before I left for the hospital, I had put on that bra, went to the kitchen to make coffee, decided I didn’t want to wear that bra to work and took it off in the dining room before changing into another one.”

  “An explanation which only marginally makes more sense than my scenario!” Rachel exclaimed. “In fact, it just makes me want to ask more questions! For example, why not wait until you got to the bedroom to switch bras?”

  “I don’t know, Rachel! People do weird things from time to time! Have you never taken off your clothes in odd rooms before?”

  “Of course I have!” Rachel said. “But then I put them away! Like an adult! You, on the other hand, leave these things around as if you expect a maid to come pick up after you!”

  Ainsley’s eyes suddenly darted to the side guiltily. She tried to hide it by flicking them quickly back to Rachel but Rachel had caught it and immediately, comprehension dawned on her.

  “Oh my god!” she blurted out. “You grew up with a maid, didn’t you?”

  “Housekeeper!” Ainsley snapped.

  Rachel barked out a dry laugh.

  “Oh my god, that fucking explains everything!” she said. Then she put her hands back on her hips and glared at her girlfriend. “Well, Dr. Janowicz, there is no housekeeper here, understand? So, please, pick up after yourself and stop expecting your girlfriend to do it for you!”

  “I never expected that!” Ainsley said through clenched teeth.

  “Then who did you expect to do it? Magic housekeeping gnomes? Or did you give your childhood housekeeper a key to my place so she could come in once a week and tidy up after you?”

  “Do you want me to leave?” Ainsley asked.

  Rachel huffed in frustration.

  “Of course I don’t want you to leave!”

  Ainsley quirked an eyebrow.

  “You’re acting like it.”

  “No…” Rachel said, beginning to feel like she was talking to a character from Downton Abbey, “I’m acting like a grownup who is tired of picking up after another grownup.”

  “And I can understand that,” Ainsley said. She took a deep breath and then said in a softer tone, “Really, Rachel…I can understand that. Okay? I’m sorry. I know I can be a slob.”

  Rachel, feeling her own iciness begin to thaw, mumbled, “It’s okay.”

  Ainsley went on.

  “The only reason you ever saw my condo look as neat as it did was because I would obsessively tidy up the place if I knew there was even the slightest chance you’d be coming over.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” Ainsley stated glumly. “And for the record, a bra on the dining room table is nothing. I once found one on my Peloton. It wasn’t even, like, a workout bra.”

  Rachel laughed.

  “Anyway,” Ainsley said, “I’m sorry.”

  Rachel approached and the two women embraced.

  “I’m sorry I got so pissed,” Rachel said, nuzzling Ainsley’s neck. “But…”

  “But what?”

  Rachel swallowed. She wanted to be very careful how she said this next bit.

  “But,” she began, “I can now see a silver lining to your slob-like qualities.”

  Ainsley pulled away enough to look at her in surprise.

  “Really? Explain.”

  “You’re comfortable with me,” Rachel said, smiling up at her girlfriend.

  Ainsley smiled back.

  “I am,” she said.

  Staring at Ainsley, Rachel felt there was more being said with their eyes than with their mouths but that perhaps now was not the time to try to bring whatever it was not being said out.

  Instead, she went back to nuzzling Ainsley’s neck and murmured, “Just pick up after yourself, please. I’m not your maid.”

  “Housekeeper,” Ainsley said. “Maureen used to get pissed if I ever called her a maid.”

  Rachel continued nuzzling Ainsley’s neck, which had that fresh-out-of-the-shower smell, a combination of just Ainsley and the shea butter body wash Ainsley favored.

  Ainsley, running her hands over Rachel’s back, moaned a little.

  “You need to stop doing that.”

  “You mean this?” Rachel whispered, now planting little kisses on Ainsley’s neck.

  “Oh fuck,” Ainsley sighed, tightening her embrace. “No fair…you weren’t doing that before…”

  “So?”

  “Babe. Please.”

  Rachel ran her tongue under Ainsley’s jawline.

  “What?” she whined.

  “Babe, I’m horny enough as it is,” Ainsley said softly but not soft enough to hide the desire in her voice. “I’m always horny on my period.”

  “Okay,” Rachel said, ghosting Ainsley’s ear with her lips. “Then what’s the problem? It’s been almost a week…”

  Ainsley moaned again and then huffed in frustration.

  “What?” Rachel asked. “Do lesbians not have sex on their periods?”

  Another huff of frustration from Ainsley.

  “Of course we do,” she said. “I mean, sometimes. It depends on who’s having the period, I guess. But…”

  “But what?”

  “You’ve never done anything with a woman while she’s on her period and I don’t want it…” She trailed off.

  “Grossing me out?” Rachel suggested.

  Ainsley pulled away and looked down at her.

  “Right.”

  Rachel could understand Ainsley’s reluctance. She herself was a little surprised at how adamant she was being that things get sexual this evening.

  Add it to my ever-growing list of firsts.

  First time being attracted to a woman.

  First time wanting to have sex with a woman.

  First time having sex with a woman.

  And now…

  First time desperately wanting that same woman while that woman was on her period.

  But yet, it was undeniable: her typical overwhelming desire for Ainsley was still there, heightened, naturally, by the lack of sex over the past few days, despite the fact that Ainsley was on her period.

  She bit her lip and ran her hands up and down Ainsley’s arms.

  “Let me at least touch you,” she said. “It’s been almost a
week. I refuse to be a lesbian if it means I can’t touch you five days out of every month.”

  Ainsley burst into laughter and then looked at her. It was obvious she was still doubtful. Finally, though, she sighed.

  “Give me two minutes,” she instructed before heading into the bathroom.

  Excited, nervous…and curious, Rachel got onto the bed. She wasn’t sure if she should undress because she didn’t want Ainsley feeling pressured to have this turn into one of their usual playtimes. Ainsley might be horny, sure, but Rachel remembered her periods before her latest birth control option stopped them. She had been prone to horniness then also while paradoxically not actually wanting to have sex. Furthermore, she knew Ainsley was a little skittish about this, apparently afraid of grossing her out. So Rachel decided to keep the teal workout shorts and graphic tee she was wearing on.

  In another moment, Ainsley re-emerged from the bathroom. Immediately, Rachel started breathing faster. Ainsley was completely nude, her statuesque form with those ever-so-long legs and stunning breasts on full display. She was carrying a towel and as she walked, Rachel caught glimpses of a tampon string dangling between her legs.

  “I don’t think we’ll need this,” Ainsley said, laying the towel flat on the mattress. “But better safe than sorry.”

  “Of course,” Rachel said, unable to take her eyes off Ainsley’s breasts.

  Ainsley then stood and crossed her arms.

  “You know, it’s funny,” she said, “I come so much harder when you’re naked.”

  Rachel didn’t say a word, instead undressing as fast as she ever had before. When her clothes were off and tossed away, Ainsley smiled.

  “Better,” she said.

  Once Ainsley was in bed and in her arms, Rachel felt as if her entire body had a low-voltage electric current running through it. It had been too long. Yes, they had slept together every night since they’d last had sex. Yes, Ainsley had been in her arms each of those nights. And it had been magical.

  But this…

  Oh fuck…

  Feeling Ainsley’s body pressed against hers as they kissed was already making Rachel’s core start that achingly wonderful build-up, the anticipation of which made Rachel deepen her kiss and more aggressively duel with Ainsley’s tongue.

  They kept at it like that for a while: kissing and running each other’s hands over the other woman’s side, hips, legs, neck. Rachel could sense how much yearning was in her girlfriend and she could tell that it matched her own.

  “Fuck, Rachel,” Ainsley murmured when they broke their kiss.

  “Too long…” Rachel murmured back, kissing Ainsley’s chin.

  “Yeah…”

  “Let me touch you…” Rachel implored.

  “Only touching,” Ainsley whispered in response.

  Rachel smirked.

  “This time,” she said.

  Would she ever go down on Ainsley at this time of the month? She didn’t know. She had just said what she had said because it seemed like an incredibly sexy thing to say.

  She gently pushed on Ainsley’s shoulder until the blonde was lying on her back and then she snuggled against her, resting her head on Ainsley’s chest while sliding her right hand down Ainsley’s torso. She stopped at that landing strip of curls, playing with them as was her wont.

  Beneath her, Ainsley was trembling and her hips were already rocking in anticipation.

  “God, you’re on fire, baby, aren’t you?” Rachel whispered, her clit pulsing at how anxious and needy Ainsley was. Rachel felt that sense of power again. Ainsley wasn’t tied down or otherwise restrained and yet Rachel knew that she was in complete control of this woman. It was such a turn-on.

  “Yes…” Ainsley murmured.

  “So ask me to touch you,” Rachel whispered.

  Ainsley let out a moan.

  “Please, Rachel…touch me…”

  Continuing to run her fingers along the little strip of curls, Rachel moved her head just enough to take Ainsley’s right nipple into her mouth for a nice hard suck. Listening to Ainsley’s moans, Rachel’s center filled with more arousal and her own nipples instantly got rock hard.

  When she released the nipple with a pop, Rachel finally slid her fingers further down and gasped when she encountered her girlfriend’s erect clit.

  “Oh fuck!” Ainsley exclaimed, arching her back slightly.

  Rachel edged the swollen nub, drawing circles around it with her middle finger, wanting to take her time, wanting Ainsley to fall to pieces with unreleased desire. Ainsley’s clit seemed larger than normal for some reason.

  “Wasn’t it silly of you to not let me do this a couple of days ago?” Rachel whispered.

  Ainsley grunted. She was rolling her hips, obviously trying to get her clit directly under Rachel’s finger, but Rachel was expertly avoiding these maneuvers.

  “I want to be able to touch you even when you’re on your period, Ainsley,” Rachel stated firmly. “Understood?”

  “Yes!”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  Rachel slipped just her middle finger even lower, splitting Ainsley’s folds, feeling the slickness of arousal, wondering if indeed it was all arousal but being so turned on by now that she didn’t care. Her finger encountered the tampon string leading from Ainsley’s entrance. Rachel wrapped it around her finger, unwrapped it, wrapped it around again, fascinated by this new experience, not at all repulsed by it, not at all feeling uneasy. Instead, the way Ainsley’s moans increased in volume, the way her back arched again, the way she grabbed her left breast and pinched her own nipple was making Rachel delirious with want and need.

  Rachel experimentally tugged on the string the tiniest bit and Ainsley whimpered sexily, hungrily. So she tugged it again. Not enough to begin removing it; just enough to make it felt inside Ainsley, who gasped.

  “Ah…oh fuck…”

  Rachel slid her middle finger back upwards and gave Ainsley what she was waiting for. No more teasing, no more holding back, no more gentleness. With a firm touch and fast oscillations of her finger she attacked Ainsley’s clit mercilessly. Meanwhile, she felt her own thighs getting wetter and wetter with all of the arousal leaking out of her. She wanted to touch herself but her position made it impossible and so she just focused on pleasuring her Ainsley, this woman whom she would get to do this to no matter what time of the month it was.

  “I always get to touch you,” she growled. “Understood.”

  “Yes, fuck yes!”

  “And why is that?” Rachel purred.

  “Because I belong to you…”

  “Good girl,” Rachel whispered.

  The rubbing continued. Ainsley’s moaning continued. So did her trembling.

  Finally…

  “Fuck!” Ainsley called out. “Fuck!...I’m coming! Oh FUCK!”

  And then Ainsley’s hips bucked violently twice and she put her hand over Rachel’s, stopping her finger’s rubbing, and she screamed out lustily and arched her back so much that Rachel’s head was forced off Ainsley’s chest.

  Relegated to spectator, Rachel was now free to touch her own pussy. The amount of wetness her fingers found between her legs no longer surprised her; this was what Ainsley always did to her. As she watched and listened to her girlfriend in the grip of orgasm, Rachel reached the brink quickly but kept herself from going over just long enough to raise herself up and straddle Ainsley’s hips.

  She pressed her pussy down on Ainsley’s landing strip of curls and rocked her hips, sliding her folds and her clit on the other woman’s mound, finishing what she started with her fingers.

  “Ainsley…” she huffed just a second before the cataclysm hit below her waist and she climaxed, feeling her come stream out to be spread on Ainsley’s mound by the motion of her rocking hips.

  “Fuck, I’m coming haaaaard!” she screamed. Her eyes were closed, pinpoints of light popping in the darkness behind her lids. She felt Ainsley’s hands cover her breasts, squeezing them
, pulling on her nipples while her own hands were now entangled in her hair as she grunted with the pleasure of her contractions.

  When it was over and she had collapsed back onto the mattress, Rachel sighed contentedly. Next to her, Ainsley was still breathing more rapidly than normal.

  “Christ, baby,” Rachel muttered.

  “Yeah,” Ainsley said. “I know.”

  Chapter 26

  What a way to spend a day off!

  It was Saturday and Ainsley had been hard at work unpacking since early that morning. When she had entered the house and seen all that needed to be done, she had looked forlornly at her purse, silently praying for her pager to go off, hoping someone needed an abdominal vein resection in a hurry. Perhaps a nice bile duct excision. Hell, she would have even taken a burst appendix.

  Alas, though, her pager had remained silent. Ainsley had taken it as a sign: Get to work!

  And so she had. Alone.

  Rachel had been unable to spend the morning helping due to having an open house for one of the properties she had listed. But she had promised that after that—as well as after a showing here in Carlsbad—she would go home, change and then scoot right over to become Ainsley’s little helper.

  It was just as well that she was doing this alone, Ainsley eventually conceded. How much would she have really gotten done, after all, if she had had to keep stopping to tell her girlfriend where something belonged—especially since she herself wasn’t entirely sure where everything would go? This way, every time Ainsley opened a box, she had the time to reflect peacefully on where each item in that box would go, how it would fit into this new home of hers.

  Another advantage of her solitude: during the past few hours, Ainsley had discovered that she was falling in love with this house even more. The place had a good energy, a welcoming energy, as if the house was letting her know it was pleased she was its new owner. If she had had someone here with her, Ainsley doubted she would have been attuned enough to have picked up on that. Also, she liked discovering how she sounded in this house. The different noises her footfalls made in each room, for example. Or the way the sound of her voice changed as she went from room to room singing a Taylor Swift song. Or that grunting while moving a box in the kitchen sounded different than grunting while moving a box in the laundry room. And all of this sound-discovery was helping Ainsley feel as if she and the house were getting to know one another. After all, she’d be spending most of her time here alone; it would be comforting knowing what she sounded like as she lived within these walls.