Radclyffe & Stacia Seaman - Romantic Interludes 2 - Secrets

by Radclyffe;Stacia Seaman

  “Actually, a virgin lesbian,” Drew stated. “But who cares about the details.” The pained look crossing Jordan’s face caused Drew to quickly add, “But I’m sure you’re as fast a learner at this as you are at everything else you tackle.”

  The addition did little to relieve Jordan’s fears. “I’m scared. Suppose I can’t…I mean what if…” The blush creeping up her neck quickly covered her entire face and she tried to turn away.

  Drew turned Jordan’s chin back, forcing Jordan to look at her. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  “I wish I had more experience now. I’m afraid I’ll screw it up.”

  Drew couldn’t control her laughter. Jordan’s obvious embarrassment was evident, but it made Drew want to protect her. “Oh, Jordan, whether we make love or not, you’re my friend first and foremost, and you make me very happy. Come here.”

  “But I want to make love with you.” Emboldened, Jordan kissed the breast beneath her lips and again heard a soft moan. Delighted at the response, she blew softly across the darkened nipple and then kissed around its edge. “Mmm. This is wonderful.”

  “Damn, that feels good. Are you sure you haven’t been taking lessons?” Rolling her over, Drew slipped her knee between Jordan’s thighs and leaned down for a kiss. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  “Not lately.”

  Drew kissed along Jordan’s jaw, beginning at one ear and going to the other. When Jordan lifted her head to give easier access, Drew pushed down to the collar of Jordan’s shirt and planted tender kisses across her collarbone. “I’ve dreamed of this for such a long time.” Drew kissed her way back up Jordan’s neck and to her ear. “I’ve wanted to kiss you and touch you for so long. I’ve wanted to feel you moving beneath me.”

  The warm breath was an electric current sending pleasant shocks along Jordan’s aroused nervous system. Drew’s words turned up the current and Jordan began to slide against the thigh gently pressing her crotch. She clutched Drew’s shoulders and kissed her. This time with more intensity. With more urgency. “Drew, make love to me. Please.”

  Immediately Drew straddled Jordan, pulling her into a sitting position, never losing eye contact. The desire reflected in the gray eyes warmed her. She smiled and lifted Jordan’s T-shirt, pulling it off. Drew gazed down at the full, lush body. She groaned with a rush of desire and Jordan self-consciously crossed her arms across her bare chest. Drew leaned back and gazed into Jordan’s eyes. “Jordan, you’re so beautiful. Let me look at you. Please.”

  Jordan was startled by Drew’s soft words but she saw the truth and the desire on Drew’s face. No one had ever thought she was beautiful. Slowly she put her arms down and leaned back, her elbows on the bed supporting her. She watched as Drew slowly caressed one breast.

  “I never imagined anything as beautiful and wonderful as this. I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Drew leaned down and briefly sucked the full breast, feeling the nipple harden in her mouth. She leaned back to watch it darken.

  Jordan tilted her head, her hair falling back. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the amazing feelings her new lover was arousing. Whatever doubts and fear she might have had were quickly slipping away.

  As Drew rubbed the one erect nipple with the palm of her hand, she softly stroked the other one. “God, you are so beautiful. I wish I were an artist and could paint you.”

  Jordan’s eyes flew open. Something was stuck in her throat. She tried to swallow. Tears slipped from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck and pulled them both down to the bed. “I…oh, God! Drew…”

  “What is it?” Drew caressed Jordan’s cheek, wiping away a tear with her thumb. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

  “I’ve never thought I was, you know…cute.” Jordan recalled some of the names she had heard growing up, especially when she had to wear glasses, but always out of range of her parents’ hearing. “I…I’m overwhelmed.”

  “Jordan, I’ve always told you that you were attractive.”

  “Yes, but I…I had clothes on and thought I did a good job of hiding my body.”

  Drew’s laughter brought a smile to the distraught Jordan. “Jordan, look at me.” She waited until Jordan finally met her gaze. “You are a beautiful, sexy woman. I love your curves and softness.” To emphasize her words she placed tender kisses on each breast, the slightly rounded stomach, the curving hips. “Even more, you’re beautiful inside. Your gentleness, your tenderness. I love you, Jordan. In spite of who your parents are.” Drew laughed as she added the last statement, then slowly licked salty tears from the damp eyelashes. “I love you,” Drew whispered softly as she placed her hand over her heart and then moved it to Jordan’s.

  “I love you, Drew.” Jordan placed her hand on top of Drew’s. Tears, this time joyous ones, slid down her face. “I love you.” She ran her hand through the thick, curly hair. “I.” She kissed one eye. “Love.” She kissed the other eye. “You.” She kissed the soft tempting lips, this time capturing Drew in a deeper, harder kiss.

  Drew felt the wetness as her thigh slid against Jordan’s center. She wanted to please Jordan. She slowly rained kisses down Jordan’s body, listening to her breathing, gauging her level of arousal. As she kissed down Jordan’s stomach, she felt Jordan tense. She slowed her kissing and pulled herself up to enjoy Jordan’s warm mouth again.

  “Drew, this is incredible, but…I…” Jordan hesitated. How did she ask for what she needed if she wasn’t sure what it was? “Please, I need you to help me.”

  “Whatever you want, or don’t want, don’t be afraid to tell me.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know what to ask for.”

  Smiling, Drew slowly moved her thigh and placed her hand over Jordan’s center. When Jordan pushed up into her, she ran a finger softly along the length of Jordan’s clit. The rapid intake of breath encouraged her. “Let me know if there is anything that bothers you.”

  “If you don’t do something soon, I will definitely be bothered.”

  “I thought you already were.”

  Jordan pressed against Drew’s hand, closing her eyes, giving herself over to the arousal now growing within her. As Drew increased the strength of her stroking, Jordan began to float. When one finger, then a second was slowly inserted, Jordan gasped. Her body began to quiver. She was glad she was sharing this moment with Drew. With this woman, she reminded herself. With the woman she loved and trusted.

  Drew increased the pressure on Jordan’s clit, her thumb circling and pushing, while she slowly slid in and out of her lover. For the first time in her life, she felt truly connected, a deep, centered emotion. She wanted more than to just please Jordan. She wanted to be the one to arouse Jordan, to take her to a place of incredible pleasure, to drown her in love. “Come,” she whispered.

  Jordan pushed her hips against Drew’s hand, the tension within her body so taut she feared she was going to explode. Shaking with the onset of her first orgasm, she wrapped her legs and arms around Drew and tightened around the fingers inside her. She gasped and let go, her body soaring. When she was able to loosen her hold, Jordan fell back on the bed.

  “Good heavens,” she struggled to get out, her breathing erratic, “I don’t know what happened, but I want to do that again.” She paused, panting. “After I rest.”

  Drew smiled, her heart full. Jordan’s eyes glistened, love written all over her face. “God, I love you.”

  “I love you,” Jordan whispered and tightened her embrace. “I want to show you how much.” Jordan rolled to her side, pushing Drew onto her back. Drew was lean and muscular, all angles and flat planes…and scars. She slowly touched the scar on Drew’s chin, the one she had caused when they first met. She had felt so clumsy when she nearly tripped and banged into Drew’s chin, blood quickly spurting everywhere. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  Drew clasped Jordan’s hand. “And the one on the back of my head?” Jordan nodded. “And the one on my leg?” Jordan again nodded. Dr
ew placed Jordan’s hand over her left breast. “And how about the one in my heart?”

  Jordan felt the nipple hardening under hand. She could barely swallow. Her excitement grew as she squeezed Drew’s breast and heard her groan. “It can’t be any bigger than the one in my heart.” Jordan took a deep breath, this time, easily gathering her courage, knowing Drew loved her. “Help me to please you.”

  Her eyes closed, Drew barely whispered, “You’re off to a great start.” She moaned. “I doubt,” she inhaled deeply as Jordan pulled on her nipple, “that there’s anything you can do that won’t please me.”

  Jordan’s touches were tentative but grew bolder as she realized she was the one causing Drew’s plaintive pleas. Recalling what Drew had done, she slowly explored her body. Moving her hands over Drew’s stomach, she was amazed at the firmness of the muscles underlying the soft, smooth skin. When Drew moaned, Jordan felt the wetness building between her own legs again. Aroused, she wanted to make love to Drew. She wondered if Drew was as wet.

  “Help me,” Jordan pleaded.

  “I want you to touch me.” Drew pulled Jordan’s hand down and placed it over her clit. “Here. Touch me here.”

  Jordan loved the reaction to her stroking Drew’s center. Seeing and hearing the effects of her touches, Jordan’s reserve faded. She became more adventurous, exploring the wetness and sliding into Drew for the first time. Her sharp intake of breath gave Jordan all the encouragement she needed. She plunged deeper and quickened her movements.

  “Yes, baby. Please, I want to feel you sucking my breast as I come.”

  Jordan took the small, firm breast in her mouth while moving her fingers in and out. When she finally brought Drew to orgasm, Jordan felt such joy she could barely breathe.

  “God, I can’t believe how wonderful you feel,” Drew uttered as she turned to see the morning sun peeking through the shutters. The love in her heart was nearly as bright. “I love you, Jordan Thompson.” She laughed and hugged Jordan. “You are absolutely amazing.”

  Jordan blushed. Her face a bright red, Jordan tried to bury her head in Drew’s shoulder.

  Seeing this vulnerability, Drew instantly wanted to protect her. She lifted Jordan’s head so that she could see into her eyes. “You are the most amazing woman I know and right now, I want to make love to you again.”

  Jordan’s groan was all the answer she needed. Drowning Jordan in passionate kisses, Drew caressed the gentle curves and swells of Jordan’s stomach and hips, dancing around the curls covering her warm center.

  “Please,” Jordan begged, well aware of what pleased her. She grabbed Drew’s hand and moved it down.

  “Anything for you.” Drew found the already firm clitoris and began to stroke it. Jordan’s hips joined the dance in slow, languid rhythm, an overture, a waltz of enticement. Drew’s hand slipped to the warm well and one finger dipped in, teased, and retreated. Two fingers moved to the entrance. Breathing faster, the two dancers moved to the increasing beat. “You’re so wet. I can’t believe how good you feel.”

  “Drew, please. Don’t stop.” The pace of the dance changed. Jordan’s hips thrust against her lover’s hand. A faster tempo. She kissed Drew’s neck, then buried her face there. “Please. Oh, Drew…” Talking was difficult. “You feel so good.”

  “Relax, baby. Just enjoy.” Drew stroked the swollen clitoris and slipped inside. She felt Jordan tightening around her fingers. The final movement of the dance was set.

  “Trust me?” Drew asked.

  “Yes,” Jordan answered breathlessly.

  Drew slid down, kissing Jordan’s stomach and thighs before sliding between her legs. She kissed Jordan’s swollen clitoris, then gently sucked.

  Jordan had never known such exquisite pleasure. Moving against Drew’s mouth, she pushed, seeking more pressure.

  “Drew, I need to feel you in me, too.”

  Jordan grabbed Drew’s shoulders, her hips dancing to the melody her partner had set. Every nerve in her body was singing. Everywhere Drew’s body touched hers, Jordan’s skin was on fire. Jordan danced until finally she felt an explosive release. Her legs tightened against Drew, trapping her lover’s fingers in her orgasmic spasms.

  “Enough, I need to breathe,” Jordan whispered. How can this be even better? Can I die from too much? When Drew crawled up next to her, Jordan finally collapsed on the bed. She felt strong arms pull her close, safely wrapping her in their love.

  Whatever happened after today, Jordan was sure she could handle. They would have to be discreet, at least for a while—her life was constantly under inspection and this wonderful, new love needed to be sheltered and allowed time to grow. Despite the challenges, she had faith that together, they would work everything out. Until then, Drew loved her and that was all she needed.

  Lisa Girolami is the author of Love on Location and Run to Me. She has been in the entertainment industry since 1979 and holds a BA in fine art and an MS in psychology. She spent ten years as production executive in the motion picture industry and another two decades producing and designing theme parks for Walt Disney and Universal Studios and is currently a counselor at a GLBTQ mental health facility in Garden Grove. Her next novel, The Pleasure Set, is forthcoming in 2010. www.LisaGirolami.com.

  Finding Grace

  Lisa Girolami

  I am going tonight. I have been both dreading and anticipating this evening for weeks. How I could ever have talked myself into finding love where only sex exists is a mystery to my sense of logic and modesty. But where Grace is concerned, logic and modesty have flown right out the window.

  I am going tonight because I know she will be there. She is there every Friday night. Le Spot sits in the Latin Quarter of Paris, in the fifth arrondissement, and it is a sex house. Off Rue Mouffetard and down a small, winding street, Le Spot serves as a lesbian sanctuary for clandestine and anonymous sexual encounters. This private club offers seven themed rooms for women to frequent while seeking a lover for the night, away from the pretense and negotiation that conventional coupling entails. Beds, couches, floor pillows, and other furniture provide resting places for legs and backs and pulsing bodies. Loud music throbs throughout, but moans and screams of orgasms manage to punch through the ever-present beat.

  And I want none of that.

  I have a membership there because that is the only way one can gain access. A two-week waiting period is required for membership in order to verify the applicants’ references and to protect the club’s illicit existence. I got a membership to escape my life and my failed attempts at relationships. There were too many communication struggles and misunderstandings and hurtful words. I wanted to be around women, but I didn’t want to go through the technicalities of flirting or dating or even asking for a phone number. My first night there, however, I quickly realized that I wanted none of the anonymous sex either, and had decided then that my first night would be my last.

  Tonight marks the fifteenth time I have gone back.

  I have been going to Le Spot for four months because I see Grace each time. I have never touched another woman there, only watched. I used to watch many of the trysts and couplings through dark illumination and murky clouds of smoke, but now, all I watch is Grace.

  I have fallen in love with this woman. I don’t know where she lives, what she does for a living, or even how she arrives at Le Spot. But she captivated me from the first moment and I knew I had to have her in my life. I once paid the receptionist twenty francs to tell me about the woman with the black hair and red dragon back tattoo, but all I got was her first name.

  I have watched Grace watching other women. She never touches any of them either. I have seen her intently gaze at the intimate pairings but I have also observed her, more often than not, sitting or standing by herself, deep in preoccupied contemplation. My attraction to her is not just from a physical sense, though she is striking. There is something about the way she holds herself, with confidence and quiet certainty. It’s the way she considers everything arou
nd her with meaningful regard that compels me to know more.

  Each night that I come here, I learn something new about her. In every nuance of her expression, I see a different emotion. When she inhales deeply, I sense her desire to experience life. When she elegantly lifts her fingers to glide a lock of hair behind her ear, I know that she is a gentle lover.

  Tonight, as I change into the requisite blue towel, my heart beats faster, for I know that this night will not be for watching only. I have to talk with Grace. I have to finally see if this woman is all that I have imagined. I know every inch of her body, for I have seen her from afar and, at times, followed her from room to room. I have memorized her stances, I have her expressions and reactions committed to memory. But I have gleaned all I can from her exterior. Now I must know what she holds on the inside.

  I long to sit down beside her and let her know that I am not doing so for a physical connection. She’s too incredible for that. I want to know her life story. I want to understand her fears and grasp her dreams. I find her in the cave room, themed after the catacombs, Paris’s vast network of subterranean tunnels. One lightbulb with a metal cage around it gives off just enough light to make out shapes but not enough to see faces. She is standing against the rockwork wall, a few feet away from two pairs of women who are too intent in their nameless union to notice her. Grace follows the same pattern as always, watching but not advancing, contemplating but not open to involvement.

  As I move around the opposite side of the room I notice that the writhing, naked bodies serve as an abstract canvas around her. She is detached from the activities but enveloped in the ambience. I can feel her swathed in the enigmatic vibe because we both move to it in the same way.

  My desire to walk toward her is strong but it is too dark, so I must wait. Next, I go to the Versailles room, its soft candlelight illuminating elegant gilded furniture and marble floors and walls. There is only one couple lying on the large bed, so I make my way over to a love seat in the corner and sit.