Bad Moon Rising

I opened my arms and she came into my embrace, pressing her head against me. "Amber, that time I helped you to masturbate, I heard what you whispered when I left you," I told her, "that you love me. My turn for a question. Did you mean that?"

She gazed at me, eyes sparkling with bright tears. "You weren't supposed to hear that. Yes, I meant it. You've given so much of yourself for my benefit and asked nothing in return. And don't say you were only doing your job because you always went the extra mile without expecting anything in return." Amber tightened her arms about me. "I do love you, Cerys, and I don't think I've loved anyone before, not like this. From what I've been told, every relationship I've had has been about what I can get out of it and to hell with the other person's needs. Well, that changes now."

"I said I could be interested in you," I replied, "It's more than that, I could love you too. Oh shit, I do love you."

Amber looked at me, her expression suddenly anxious. "Couldn't you get into trouble, being like that with a patient."

I laughed. "Amber, I'm not a doctor or nurse, I'm an unpaid volunteer carer. As far as I'm aware I'm not bound by any form of professional ethics. But I think we should take it easy for now—you're much better than you were but you're not fully recovered yet. I want you to rest now so why not sit in an armchair and look out over the garden. I'll take you out for a walk after lunch."

I settled her, kissed her forehead and went to prepare her a light lunch. I love her and she loves me, I thought , so what next? A shift in our relationship was looking likely and the time was almost right for me to put my idea to Amber.

* * * * *

That night Amber and I took our first bath together. For a couple of weeks now, since her mobility had returned to near normal, Amber had been bathing herself without the need of help although I always stood nearby in case of difficulties. This time Amber caught hold of my hand and said, almost shyly: "Cerys, would you like to share my bath tonight?"

I melted. "Yes please!"

When we'd undressed I noticed that her mound and pussy were bare and smooth. "You've shaved," I said, surprised.

"Yes. Don't you like it?" Her voice was slightly anxious.

"I love it. It's just unexpected." For myself, I tend to keep my vulva bare but have a thick patch of hair just above.

We sat facing in the warm, scented water and washed each other with soft sponges laden with lightly-perfumed soap. When we were finished and I was drying her back, Amber said: "There's something I want to know, Cerys. The masseuse in hospital told me I have a great tattoo but I've got no memory of it. What is it?"

"I think it's meant to be the Tree of Knowledge from the Garden of Eden," I told her, "The trunk runs up your spine..." on impulse I showed her the bole's path by running my tongue from the cleft of her buttocks to between her shoulder blades. "Then the roots are on your bum..." here I kissed each buttock, "...and the branches and leaves are here..." I trailed several kisses across her shoulders. "And halfway up the tree is the serpent..." I traced the serpent's body with a forefinger then put my arms around Amber and hugged her against me.

"How odd," she said, "I wonder why I had that done."

We finished towelling down and donned pyjamas, a silk set with shorts for Amber and plain cotton with trousers for me. We climbed into bed and Amber snuggled up against me.

I had a hand on one of her bare thighs and started to stroke lightly with my fingertips. Amber made a little purring noise and snuggled a bit closer. I continued to caress her thighs as I rubbed a cheek against hers then brushed my lips around her neck and face. She turned her head towards me and we met in a sweet, light kiss, just that, no tongues. The kisses continued, still with lips only and I stroked Amber's hair.

I followed the shape of her lips with a finger and we kissed again, this time with lips parted a little. Amber traced my lips with the point of her tongue, not deeply but enough to thrill. I turned so that I was able to hold her face between my two hands and our kiss deepened with our tongues meeting briefly. My hands went to her thighs again and this time brushed against her pussy, a middle finger pressing against her covered slit. The silk of her pyjama shorts felt so sensual against my finger that it must have been trebly so to Amber's pussy. She gave a tiny moan and pushed her hips harder against my finger.

I pulled away for a second to lift my top off and Amber copied my movements. I rubbed my palms over her boobs and soft belly while she cupped my boobs and bent to take a nipple between her lips. It was like an electric shock to my pussy as my nipple hardened under Amber's licking and sucking. I put my hand between her legs, rubbing her pussy through her shorts. I could feel the shape of her prominent lips and slipped my hand inside the shorts, covering her smooth kitty with my whole hand which immediately became wet with Amber's slippery juices.

My breathing becoming excited, I slipped her shorts off and seconds later Amber removed my trousers. We kissed, tongues swirling, as we explored one another's bodies with eager hands. I reached between her legs once more and fingered her cleft which was now soaking. Pulling my lips away from hers, I dived down to kiss her thighs once more then pressed my mouth against her pussy and licked her clit. Amber was making little noises, soft moans and tiny cries. Using fingers, I parted her outer lips and, pausing briefly to admire the gleaming pink of her inner pussy, thrust my tongue into her and lapped at her sweet tanginess. I could feel her legs trembling where I gripped them.

Amber clasped the back of my head as if to pull me further in and then yelled: "Oh God, Cerys! Oh God, God, God!" loudly as she came. I held her close to me as she recovered from what had obviously been a massive orgasm.

Whispering "I love you, Cerys", Amber dived down between my thighs and kissed my pussy. She twined her fingers in my thatch of pubic hair and tugged lightly as she began to lick me in earnest. I heard deep, happy moans and realised that they came from me. My hands went to my boobs and I played with them, pulling lightly at my nipples. I was very aroused and knew that it wouldn't be long before I erupted. I could feel Amber's fingers penetrating my vagina and my hips started to jerk involuntarily. She finger-fucked me, rubbing against my g-spot, as her tongue found my clit and sent me right over the edge. I let out a cry of sheer pleasure as I came. Rocket Man? Nothing in it. I think it was the best orgasm I'd ever experienced.

We rested for a while, just cuddling each other, then with an impish smile, Amber turned on all fours and raised her backside in the air. I crouched down licking kitty from behind and slid two fingers into her as I did so. With my free hand, I reached down to finger my own clit. Both of us were oozing thick, creamy lubricant and several times I sucked my fingers clean of my own nectar. My face was buried in Amber's pussy, we were both moaning incessantly and I think we came more or less at the same time.

We collapsed face down, arms around waists, and as our breathing eased we kissed our mouths and faces, necks and ears, making little inarticulate noises as we did so. Amber turned onto her back, lifting her arms above her head, and I licked at her lovely smooth underarms. "Sit on my face, Cerys," she said. I did as asked and she clutched my bottom to pull me closer. "I love your pussy," she added, "It makes me glad I've lost my memory—this is like you're my first ever lover and it's wonderful."

She licked my pussy again as I reached behind to finger hers. I can't remember ever having been so wet before nor having tasted anyone quite as delicious as Amber. We both came again before settling to sleep in each other's arms.

* * * * *

Now was the time to voice the idea I'd had following Amber's rejection by her former employers. I took her out into the garden and we sat on a bench where we could see a beautiful mass of wisteria covering a huge pergola. I faced her and held her hands. "Amber, you know that I'll have to go home to Wales soon."

She nodded sadly and her voice quavered a little as she replied. `'I know, and I don't know what I'll do when you're gone. I love you, Cerys, and I'll be lost without you. You and Lydia and Doctor Premnath are about the only friends I have and it sounds like I'm losing you."

"But you don't have to lose me. Amber, will you come to Wales with me? If you agree, it'll give you a completely fresh start. You'll be in a place where nobody knows you so nobody'll be judgemental and confront you over past sins. I can't offer you anything like this—" I waved a hand towards the house and the extensive gardens "—I only have a small cottage in the countryside, but I'll bust a gut trying to make you happy."

She brightened and squeezed my hands. "No need to bust a gut, Cerys. You've already made me happy by wanting me with you. Yes please, I'd love to come to Wales."

"There's just one important thing I have to say, Amber. Compared with me, you are wealthy and you'll be more so when your house is sold. I don't want you to think that I'm a gold-digger."

For the first time since I'd known her there was a slight edge to Amber's voice as she replied: "Don't be silly, Cerys. I've got enough wits left about me to judge whether a person is genuine or not. You couldn't be a gold-digger if you tried."

I told Lydia and Mary about our plans. Lydia being Lydia replied: "Good for you, girl, go for it!" Mary being Mary said: "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Cerys?"

"Absolutely sure."

"Okay, I wish you well then." But it was obvious that Mary Tallis thought I'd lost the plot. As Lydia had said some weeks before, Mary was unlikely ever to accept that Amber could change.

We spoke to Doctor Premnath about Amber's proposed move to Wales and he agreed that it would be a good thing. He knew a fellow neurologist in a hospital in Cardiff and would make arrangements for her to take over Amber's case.

There was nothing more to hold us in Newcombe Parva...

* * * * *

I'd packed our luggage into the back of the Land Rover ready for the journey home. I didn't have much, just a small suitcase and my backpack. Amber didn't want much from her home either, only four pictures and a few books which seemed to mean something to her—although she didn't know why—plus a large suitcase with a selection of practical clothing for the different seasons. The bulk of her clothing and smaller goods had gone to local charity shops. It was left to the estate agent to sell the furniture, either with the house or later at auction. Amber had shown no regrets when getting rid of her property. "They're only possessions," she'd shrugged, "Can't remember most of them, mean nothing to me any longer." She reached out to touch my face. "What I've got now is worth far more than mere possessions."

After the several months of waiting, I had a buyer for Auntie Meryl's place, a young couple setting up their first home. As the property was cheap the estate agent thought they'd get a mortgage without any trouble. And there were a couple of people wanting a second property coming up from London to look at Amber's house so we handed the keys in to the estate agent. I wondered how Amber would react to my small cottage after living for so long in what was, in effect, a mini-mansion. Well, that was my worry.

Mary Tallis and Lydia Osborne came to see us off. Mary dragged me to one side, her expression serious. First she gave me a fierce hug then said: "I wish you well, Cerys. Take care, love, I still think you're taking one hell of a chance with Amber."

"Maybe," I admitted, "but then life's one big risk isn't it?"

Mary shrugged. "I suppose..."

While we were talking, Amber came towards us, eyes glittering with tears. She was clutching an envelope which she held out to Mary. "Will you give this to Hal and Berry please? It's an apology for whatever I did to them. I can't remember what it was but I understand it was wicked and I'm so sorry."

Mary seemed to hesitate then nodded stiffly as she took the envelope. She hesitated again then said: "Good luck, Amber." She held out her hand to shake. The gesture was brief but it was something and I guessed that was as good as it was going to get.

* * * * *

I could have driven up the M5, joined the M50 to Ross-on-Wye then across to my place near Pen-y-Dyffryn. It would have been quicker that way but I thought I'd let Amber see some of the country she was coming to. So I took the M4 to enter South Wales via the Severn Bridge and followed a leisurely route through the valleys and hills. Many of the hill tops along our way had Norman ruins—mainly small keeps and watch towers—and it seemed to give Amber a lot of pleasure when I pointed these out to her. Once point she said: "I love your country already, Cerys."

It was quite fun listening to Amber trying to cope with some Welsh place names as we drove through the countryside. While most of the towns and cities have names in both English and Welsh, many of the villages remain strictly Welsh. "Don't worry," I said after one valiant but futile attempt, "I'll teach you the pronunciation as we go along."

Then as we approached Huw's farm I thought of something else that hadn't previously occurred. "How are you with dogs?" I asked.

"Don't know. I can't really remember. Don't think I ever had any. Why, have you got dogs?"

"Two border collies," I told her, "Bess and Mandy, sisters from the same litter. They were the smallest two and so cute I fell in love with them. They're three years old now. Uncle Huw's been looking after them in my absence. They're bred from working dogs so they often go out with him during the day, come home in the evening to be spoiled by me. Huw's a typical farmer, doesn't approve of pampering them but it's no fun if you can't make a fuss of your own dogs."

We pulled into Huw's yard a few minutes later and two bolts of black-and-white lightning came haring across to wriggle excitedly around my legs and feet. "Come and meet them," I told Amber. She held out her hands to the dogs and they seemed to take to her immediately. Within seconds Amber was on her knees, cuddling them. The way the dogs responded to her, I reckoned she was going to be all right. Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part but I believe border collies tend to have good instincts about people.

"Croeso adref, cariad fach," boomed a stocky figure emerging from the barn, "Sut wyt ti? Welcome home, little sweetheart, how are you?"

"Dda iawn, Good thanks, Uncle Huw," giving him a hug, "And Auntie Gwen!" I rushed to embrace the plump late-middle-aged woman coming from the farmhouse. Both burst into an eager flood of Welsh.

"English, please, Amber doesn't speak Welsh." I beckoned Amber over and introduced her to my relatives.

While shaking Amber's hand Huw peered closely at her face. "Good Christ, girl, that was some fight you were in!"

I winced and cast Amber a worried look, wondering how she'd react. My uncle's sense of humour is nothing if not blunt and takes some getting used to. To my relief she gave Huw a tiny smile and said: "The other fellow looks even worse."

As Huw guffawed, Auntie Gwen flicked his backside with the tea-towel she was carrying. "Pay no attention to him, my lovely," she said to Amber, "Got all the tact of a bull on the rampage, he has. Silly old fool knows full well about your traffic accident. Come here and give me a hug."

And Amber received her first warm Welsh welcome. "Now you go into the house with Huw and have a cup of tea and some cake," Gwen added, "I just want a quick word with Cerys about the cottage. We'll be in in a minute."

As soon as Amber disappeared through the kitchen doorway, Auntie Gwen switched back to Welsh. "The cottage is good order, it is, and I've got you some supplies in. I know it's only been a few months but I've been down there to make it nice and tidy and Huw made sure there's no damp or bad wear and tear. The oil-tank is topped up so you've got central heating ready for autumn and winter and I've laid the fire. See, I remembered how you like a nice blaze.

"Now the thing is, cariad, I didn't know what sort of set-up you've got with Amber so I've prepared beds in both bedrooms in case you need them. Fresh sheets, towels laid out as required. It's not really my business about you and Amber but you know how small-minded some of the chapel-going folk are around here."

"Oh, bugger the chapel-goers," I said, "Never did have much time for them. I'm happy for you and Huw to know, Auntie Gwen. Amber and I are in a relationship. I think it's going somewhere and I hope it'll last. But what goes on behind closed doors stays behind closed doors and the chapel-goers can mind their own damned business."

Gwen laughed. "You know how fast news travels round here. Your Uncle Nye'll be one of the first to get word and he'll be unhappy about it, raving in fact. Probably dust off his Sodom and Gomorrah sermon and shout it from the rooftops." Uncle Nye was my late Grampy's younger brother—though how two brothers could be so different was anyone's guess. Grampy had been a great big bundle of fun; Uncle Nye was a minister in one of the local chapels and a total misery-guts. Nobody in the family liked him. I don't really think he liked himself very much come to that. He could have played Scrooge with little effort but a Scrooge who failed to learn any lessons from the ghosts' visits. He had the smallest congregation of any minister in the district and that was largely made up of dismal bigots like himself, few of whom would likely stand careful scrutiny of their own affairs.

"Uncle Nye's a horrible old bugger and always was, and he can keep his pointy nose out of my business, he can." I nudged Gwen with an elbow. "Remember when I first came out? He stood in the market square every evening for a week, waving a Bible about and denouncing me to anyone who'd listen, calling down fire and brimstone on my head. Bit pointless. My head stayed fire- and brimstone-free and the only thing he achieved was to frighten a few old ladies out for an evening walk." The two of us collapsed with a fit of the giggles.

As we entered the kitchen still giggling, Huw raised a questioning eyebrow. "Just talking about Nye, we were," Gwen told him.

Huw grunted. "Miserable sod. Curdle milk in the cow, he could."

"I'll tell you about Uncle Nye later," I promised Amber, "Now, how about some tea and a slice of that bara brith?"

* * * * *

The cottage was about a mile from the farm, accessed by a narrow country road. I turned the final bend and it was there before us, white-painted exterior gleaming in the late sunlight. In all, I had a couple of acres enclosed by a waist-high stone wall. The cottage itself was about two hundred years old but I think the wall dated only from the early twentieth century. I suspect it had been built to satisfy Land Registry records as there were no other private properties anywhere nearby—the surrounding land was a bit too rough for building purposes and the cost of making it suitable would be prohibitive. Anyway, this was my place and I loved it but after several months of living in Amber's house the cottage looked tiny even to me. I wondered anxiously what Amber would make of it.

"Oh, it's so beautiful." I turned to look at Amber and her face was alight with pleasure. There was a small lump in my throat when I realised that her joy in the cottage seemed genuine. We're going to be all right, Mary, I thought.