by Sally Bryan
“I hope I’m a little more than your travel buddy by now.” I rolled my head to kiss her on the shoulder and in return she squeezed me for a long time. There was no need to say it, I knew. “Continue.”
She did but only after a long, soft kiss. “There’s not much more to tell. How exciting is my story about turning around, driving back to San Gimmy and pigging out on garbage for five days straight?” She persisted in grazing my abdomen and her eyes suddenly focused on that area. “Only five days … you’re looking incredibly toned and it’s sexy as hell.”
“That’ll be the manual labour,” I flexed a bicep, “feel that bump.”
She did and hummed appreciatively, “not bad, Frey,” and then she slapped me on the arse. “And you were supposed to call.”
I giggled into her armpit, the girl needed a shower, badly. “I’m not sure how much longer I could have lasted.”
She shook her head. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t because you were right and I needed to know that, I needed to work it out for myself.” Her hand was now grazing that indentation just above my buttocks, the sacral or pilonidal dimple, and I was shivering from the sensation caused by so many nerve endings dancing to her fingertips. She gave me a look and it was one I didn’t recognise. “I missed you so much and I’m so sorry for being a bitch, an awful, work-shy, lazy bitch. I really don’t want to be that person.”
I nuzzled into her neck and inhaled her natural scent infused with peach and God only knew what else but it was so delightful all the same. “Well, now we’re even and can forget all the crap and just see where this goes.”
She squeezed me even tighter. “I’d really like that.”
It was the kind of beautiful moment I’d always remember, lying naked on a Tuscan four poster bed with the girl I loved as we decided we were now together.
“You know,” she began as my body continued to shiver and react to her touches, “I think that deep down, it was all intentional, running off like that, because I wanted to test you and see what you’d do and the reason was that I wanted to forgive you.” Her body was quivering from suppressed giggling, which only caused me to explode in laughter.
I slapped her on the shoulder, “you would take credit for that,” and then our eyes locked and the laughter stopped, “but I’ll let you have it.” I’d let her have anything.
“When I said that to you, do you remember, the night after we took off from Lisbon?” She asked and I nodded, recalling that memory in a San Sebastián bar. “Well, I forgive you.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled the moment. “Thank you, Arwen. And as for me, there’s nothing to forgive.”
She sniffed and when I looked up she was using her thumb to dab at her eyes.
“Buuuuut,” I pushed up onto my elbows and the sight below was so heavenly that I almost didn’t want to make the next suggestion, “you need to take a bloody shower.”
“Do I really have to?” She hated not being clean, in fact, she hated it so much she was willing to bathe in streams and that she’d suffered through the last five days without washing showed how distraught she must have been.
I was happy to change that now and I stood and tugged at her arm, “don’t you usually get all agitated when you can’t shower? What happened to you out there all alone?”
She surrendered to my cajoling and came willingly. “I must have been too engrossed in Machiavelli to notice.”
I rolled my eyes as we entered our en-suite wet room. “Always the multilingual smart-arse, some things never change.”
She was taking tiny steps backwards, pulling me towards the shower even as our breasts squashed snugly together. “You know you love that about me and don’t you dare deny it.” Yes, love. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your body stirs whenever I say anything you can’t understand, it drives you mad with lust.”
I reached over her head to turn on the tap and we both screamed when the cold water cascaded over us but then it turned warm and we fell into a fit of hysterics even as we seized each other tightly, my hands buried deep in her hair that began to quickly soak up water, her hands kneading my breasts as our tongues clashed and I tasted the warm liquid as it flowed down her face, thrust out my hips so that my pussy might find an angle to touch hers.
I pressed the soap dispenser, three, four times, “you need this,” and began lathering her neck, shoulders, arms, back, hips, boobs and tummy as the starfish on the end of her belly button chain spouted a continuous stream of water. I went for more soap and as she stood over me, I crouched to begin work on those miraculous thighs, turning the soap to foam, thick and lemony whilst being unable to take my eyes from her jewel and the tiny strip of blonde just above as the froth from her body rinsed over it. She’d satisfied me twice, been loving and tender, ensured I was taken care of yet still, I’d not so much as touched her in that special place, indeed, I’d never so much as seen another woman’s most intimate area this close, which might have gone some way to explain why my vision was glazing over as my fingertips stopped for a breather somewhere over her buns.
“I’d like you to … if you want to.” She spoke sweetly above the pattering of a thousand hot droplets striking tile and I was struck by a sudden apprehension, “you can’t disappoint me, Frey. I just want to feel you inside of me.” She got it, she understood, and I tilted up to find her reassuring eyes gazing back.
“I’d like to.” There was nothing I wanted more than to taste her, to have her essence inside of me, to be one with her.
She settled back into the corner and I watched as her dainty feet with red painted toenails inched out across the tiles to fully expose her petite cleft to me for the first time.
I took an involuntary inhalation, I don’t know what I was expecting, it was no different to mine yet it still made my head fizz and swirl and I took one final look into her eyes as her hand came down to nestle in my hair.
Stealing myself for one heavenly moment of introspection, just to wonder at life and how much I’d changed in such a short space of time; this girl had done it all to me, I’d already given her my body and now she was about to give me hers. And then I gently ran my finger along her fold, which was all I needed to do to feel her tremble and, encouraged, I persisted, using my middle digit, massaging the slick flesh, working in tiny circles before increasing the area of contact, stimulating ever more nerve endings. I was only getting started and it was still sinking into my head that I was immersing myself in the natural juices of the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen when she astonished me by letting out a cry and her thighs convulsed and jerked and all I could do was stare open-mouthed at the girl, for she was one of the lucky ones.
“Are you serious?”
Her eyes were clamped shut, she was biting her bottom lip so hard it had turned white and I could feel her entire arm vibrating through the hand that was now clutching at my hair. “Frey … don’t … don’t stop.”
If I aroused her that much, I wouldn’t complain and I prepared myself for round two, saw how her beautiful bud had engorged without even so much as being touched, though I’d soon be fixing that, in fact very soon I’d be performing the most sensual act one person could do to another and that I would be experiencing it with a girl was still such a novelty, but one I couldn’t stop no matter what, this was me now and I grabbed onto her hips for stability and tilted forwards to close my mouth around her berry.
She bucked immediately and as I began swathing my tongue over her pearl, tasting and savouring her most intimate part, I marvelled at how silky it felt to the tongue, completely intoxicating. I mean, I had one, of course, but it wasn’t like I’d done this to myself, or anyone else, and I don’t know what I was expecting but it felt beyond description and I had no doubt it was because I was devouring Arwen.
I increased the pressure as her breathing became deeper and hoarse and I sensed her arm reaching up against the wall to grab ahold of the window ledge, her back arching, as I continued sucking and nibbling her flesh. I brought t
wo fingers to her opening and, not being able to see where they were heading, delicately searched the area being squidged beneath my chin, found what I was looking for and gently inserted the digits inside her passage, at first only enough depth to feel her pussy clamping around my fingertips before gently delving further inside to find that fleshy spot on her inner walls, already plump with fast-flowing blood. It was a lot to concentrate on, my mouth working one rhythm whilst finding a new and corresponding pulse with my fingers. At times I knew I was getting them fuddled, however, it was a skill I’d enjoy becoming proficient in.
The water continued to cascade over my shoulders and although I’d maintained a suitable vacuum around Arwen’s engorged bundle of nerves, I could still taste the water running down her body and somehow finding its way inside my mouth. I felt the muscles in her thighs twitch as she made small thrusts into me, my mouth, tongue and lips combining with her clitoris to make the most delicious sounds. My fingers were curled and massaging her raw flesh with ever-increasing pressure as my thighs were only now beginning to ache from crouching so long but I would battle through the fatigue because I just couldn’t tear myself away.
I had to swallow, a combination of water, soap and pure Arwen, a drug I’d never be able to get enough of and then a moan escaped her as I sank my hand into her buttock, her legs trembled and seized together, her pussy tightened around my fingers as her bud seemed to go both hot and cold in my mouth.
“Babe,” she finally pulled herself away and sank down against the wall to sag into my arms from where we both collapsed to the tiles and remained as the water continued to rain down upon us.
* * *
I was in the barn when I received the long-awaited news. It came in the form of an email from the UK Foundation Programme and had been sitting in my inbox all morning without my knowing. Considering the contents were to dictate the next few years of my life, my reaction to it surprised me.
The gist was that I’d been accepted to three of my five residency choices; Royal Cornwall, The Priory Hospital in Chelmsford and Raigmore in Inverness, a choice I’d now have to make without Gabe.
I turned the phone off, thrust it back in my pocket and went back to stripping the long stems of their fruit, filling the press with grapes. I found two smaller, shrivelled specimens and plucked them from the machine before tossing them over my shoulder, one after the other, and heard the satisfying smack of them striking the inside of the waste container before falling to their grave.
“A good shot,” came the masculine voice and I looked up to see Goro leaning against the shutter, the sun blotted out by his head so that his long shadow cast deep inside the barn. He was holding something and now strode over to me at the press. “I’ve sweat for many hours on this laborious machine.”
“I’ve been getting the practice in myself. Goro, it’s good to see you again,” I said more out of politeness than anything else.
It was two weeks after Arwen’s return, a little more since my quasi-date with Goro, and this would be the third occasion in the interim I’d been visited by him and it looked like he had another gift for me, to add to the chocolates and perfume I’d already received. Don’t date coworkers. I’d learned that lesson early, if a little too late.
I grabbed the handle, began turning and the wheel squelched the grapes most satisfyingly as the juice began to flow from the pipe into the tub. It was a physical task which demanded a concentrated effort, even if it was becoming easier, and besides, focusing on the press enabled me to disregard whatever Goro was holding, for a few more precious seconds at least.
“I arrived back from Torino and brought you this.” His voice was gruff and close.
There was no escaping it and so I gave him my attention. “Oh, gosh, another gift? That’s very sweet but really, there’s no need. Please…” I let it trail off in the hope no more needed to be said.
He stepped forward and held out the bag, one of those glossy paper things with a rope handle, the type you might pick up from a jewellers. “No, it’s for you, Freya Bella.” That was what he’d started calling me the last time I saw him.
I sighed, hesitated, hoped he’d register my discomfort and stop buying gifts I’d done nothing to deserve and then finally, reached out to take the bag, which had the word Damiani in exquisite gold font stamped upon it. My scalp itched as I peered inside then carefully removed the black rectangular box from within, glancing up at him once, and lifting the lid to find a chain with my name, Freya Bella, staring back in gold. It was beautiful yet so over the top and unnecessary it left me momentarily stunned. Where was Arwen when I needed her? Ah yes, down at the wholesalers.
But I’d tried, I’d tried to be firm, honest and assertive yet nothing seemed to be working. The only thing left was to demand he stop spending his money on me because what was next, a car, a puppy, a trip for two to Rome?
“It’s eighteen carats and look…” he pointed to the a in Freya, which trailed at its tail to connect to the B in Bella and I’d been so stunned I hadn’t noticed the tiny diamonds, three, four, five in total that featured in the flourish and held the two words together, “I designed it myself and had it made by…”
“Goro, you really shouldn’t have, it’s too much … far, far too much.” My body felt limp but he wasn’t discouraged by my discomfort.
The necklace was still in its box, from where I was almost too afraid to touch it, and he looped a section of chain around his fingers, “here,” bodily turned me around and I felt the gold fall cold around my neck in the warm late summer heat.
I shivered, wasn’t sure what to say, do, think as his hands were at the nape of my neck, my hair was swept aside, I felt the chain connect and his hands moved down to rest on my shoulders. Gravel scuffed from somewhere nearby and then Dayna appeared just as Goro’s hands left my body.
“Oh, hi, Goro,” she said in Italian as the relief flooded through my body, “how was the journey to Torino?”
He shifted and I wondered if his top lip curled upwards, though I probably imagined that. “Saint Christopher watches over my travels,” he said, thrusting out his chest.
Dayna beamed, “I hope he watches over all of us.”
Goro said nothing as Dayna demonstrated her ignorance of the patron saint of travellers.
She blinked then turned her attention to me. “Hold off on that batch, Scotty,” another one of my nicknames, “dinner’s ready. Goro, would you like some pappardelle?”
He grimaced, which coming from him somehow didn’t seem rude, at least Dayna didn’t seem to think so, “thank you but I must return to Poggibonsi.”
“Are you sure? All those long trips deserve a reward and I’ve made my special sauce, my famous veal and pork combo, which Scotty will vouch for.”
He shook his head and thanked her for the offer before leaving me alone with Dayna and it was testament to the stress she was still under that she didn’t see, or perhaps she simply chose to pay no heed to, the very visible chain that had spontaneously appeared around my neck.
Later that evening, Arwen, however, had no such qualms. “Is this from your stalker again, Freya Bella?” She lifted the gold plate with a finger and smirked with mild amusement.
“It’s not funny,” my arms were hanging limply at my sides and it was all enough to distract me from her naked form, almost, “I’m not sure what to do about the man and if you ever met him you’d understand. He’s, um, very particular … oh, I don’t know, it’s such a mess.”
She smushed her hips into mine. “So I have competition, do I?” She was enjoying my discomfort a little too much as she gave the plate a flick with her finger and her hands began drifting hungrily down my body. “Maybe we can send him on a delivery run to Sicily until after you’re gone for good?”
“Maybe we can,” I sighed, not wanting to think about Goro now, “it’s all your fault.”
“My fault?”
I grabbed an ample buttock. “You weren’t here to stop it.”
She snorted,
“well then, you shouldn’t be so quick to the rebound, should you.”
I sniggered, “you’re one to talk,” and cupped a large, round breast with my other hand before letting out a silent whimper as I squeezed. “Can I take it off now?”
Her lips were on my neck and I shivered, “not yet, Freya Bella,” she groaned close to my ear just as her fingers entered me.
Exhausted, we came downstairs for a snack a short time after midnight and were both surprised to find the office light on and Alessia leaning forward at the desk as she squinted into the computer screen, which could only mean she was working, irrespective of this quite bizarre hour.
Indeed, since Marco’s arrival, Alessia had been spending ever less time in her room, carrying out basic household chores mostly, cooking as well as looking after the baby and to see Alessia around the sweet little thing was to think all was well with the world. I’d noticed she’d gradually been eating more, even if she often skipped breakfast, which was still the worst time of day for her moods, though nothing she ate made any difference to the way she looked, which was gaunt and pale in comparison to her photos from only a few months before. But to find her engaging in light admin work, even after midnight, was a new development and doubtless a welcome one because Arwen had been doing exceptionally good work acquiring new business, as well as badly needed recruits to fill a number of positions at the vineyard and all that meant an increase in paperwork.
I saw Dayna frequently but Alessia less so and when I did I could never be certain as to her state. Sometimes she’d smile and welcome me, even summoning the ability to attempt conversation in her exceptionally strong Tuscan dialect as I found myself gradually being able to converse with her. But other times she’d exit the room as I entered and once she even turned around and walked the other way when she saw me approaching the kitchen from the other direction. There was never any way of knowing how she’d fair from one day to the next though one thing I could be reasonably sure of was that she was beginning to have more good days than bad. Dayna, Marco, Arwen, myself, I’d like to think we all had something to do with it.