Love, the Second Time Around

In part, I think I was testing Nichole, to see how she would react to people judging her for our relationship. Even though she was among her friends and family, I knew that not everyone would have a positive view of her being with another woman. It was going to affect her friendships, her business partnerships and her family, especially her son and ex-husband.

For myself, I needed to know that if I was going to invest in our relationship, she was willing to accept all of the social repercussions of having suddenly joining the gay community.

It seemed I need not have worried.

She is a very headstrong and stubborn and willful person. It serves her well most of the time, but can also be a weakness because she sometimes digs in when she shouldn't. Looking back, on that first night she spent in my arms, I think she knew what she was getting into, and was ready to jump straight in to the deep end without a second though.

And that made me happy.

As I held her, it was all I could do to keep from reaching around, cupping her breasts and taking her right there.

My nipples felt like they were going burst out and poke through my dress into her back. I could feel her pulse racing and her breathing quicken.

Nichole was about to say something when her phone buzzed.

She reached into her clutch for her phone and giggled when she saw the screen. Then she held it up so I could see the text message from my daughter. Get a room.

I let go of Nichole and she spun around in a graceful pirouette, ending with her arms wrapped around me.

My face felt flush, as if I was twelve again and having my first middle school slow dance again.

As I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, Nichole's hands framed my face and she leaned in and kissed me. Not hard. Not gentle. Not hungry.

Loving.

Contented.

Bliss.

She pulled back and winked at me. The room had fallen silent, except for the music played by the DJ.

Slipping her arm into mine, she led me back around to see our guests who were leaving. My head was lost to the clouds. And in that instant, I let go of the sorrow of my lost love and the shadows of my past.

As I embraced the light and promise of my future.

*************************

I don't remember the exact circumstances that caused us to leave the party.

What I do remember was Nichole grabbing my hand suddenly, her knuckles turning white. Her teeth clenched. Trying not to scream.

"We need to go," she whispered, her voice a hoarse mix of desperation and desire.

It was later in the evening and most of the actual business was done. Nichole had formally introduced me to her friends from the stage that was set up in one corner of the bar, and in doing so, came out in public as being in a lesbian relationship. We were received enthusiastically by her close friends, most of whom were happy to see Nichole recovered from her disastrous third marriage.

The caterers were still serving hors d'oeuvres and snacky foods, but they were taking down the buffet. The stormtroopers, Jedi and Mandos were "kitted-down" and were either packing their gear to leave, or they stowed it in a storage room and were joining the party. Maureen was dancing with Nichole's extended family.

My heart raced as Nichole tugged at my hand.

She said a couple of hurried good-byes, reminded Emily to take care of paying those who were expecting to get paid, and then we raced off to the elevator.

As soon as the doors shut, she pushed me up against the side as I desperately tried to mash the button for the fourth floor.

Our tongues intertwined.

"You win, goddammit," she growled, her hands pawing at my dress, searching for the zipper. I squealed with delight as she bit my earlobe. "We'd better be going some place good."

The next thing I knew, we were in bed. Naked.

Rolling over lazily, I was surprised that I wasn't too hungover. Usually I take a handful of ibuprofen before going to bed, but I didn't the night before. I had a bit of a headache, but the light coming out from behind the curtains wasn't overpoweringly bright, and moving didn't induce nausea.

Nichole curled up on my shoulder, her breathing regular.

I raised my head to see it was just after ten. Our clothes were strewn around the room. The sheets were rumpled and damp with sweat.

My girlfriend smelled like wine and sex. Her body was warm against mine.

As much as I wanted to stay like that all morning, my bladder had other ideas. Very carefully, I wiggled out from under her and slipped into the bathroom. I did my business and found a bathrobe hanging off a hook on the back of the door.

Taking great care not to wake Nichole, I padded out to the kitchen. My daughter was sitting on a stool next to the counter, nursing a cup of coffee. She looked up from her iPad and organic chemistry textbook long enough to shoot me a sly smile.

"What are you looking at?" I gave her a mock snarl.

"You're definitely in love," she laughed.

"What makes you say that?"

"Nichole made you scream when you orgasmed last night." My jaw fell open and my daughter just laughed. "You used to scream for Mom, too."

No words would form for me.

"When we were . . . what? . . . eleven, Emily and I snuck across the house to just outside your door one night when we heard you and Mom having sex," Maureen grinned sheepishly. "I heard the noises for years before, but never thought about what it might be, but that night, we decided to check it out. You were trying to be quiet, but we could hear you from the kitchen. I don't think we quite knew exactly what you were doing, but . . . and this is going to sound strange . . . but even then, I knew it was you loving each other."

She paused for a second.

"And last night, you made the same sounds," Maureen gave me a reassuring smile. "You haven't been this happy in a long time, Mommy."

It took a moment for that to sink in.

"Now make a cup of tea and go back to your girlfriend," my daughter winked. "And, yes, I can hear you from across the apartment."

Despite turning beet-red, I walked around the counter and gave Maureen a big hug, then kissed her gently on the top of her head.

A few minutes later, I slipped back into the big plush bed, wrapped my arms around Nichole and fell into a contented sleep.

*************************

Nichole

I awoke to the faint smell of chai tea and vanilla lotion. Amberle was spooned up behind me, her arm gently draped around my waist.

We were both naked.

My head was pounding for the second morning in a row, but my girlfriend's touch seemed to take a little bit of the bite out of my hangover.

Her breath was warm against the back of my neck.

Wrapping her fingers in mine, I savored the feel of our bodies pressed together. Being with her under the heavy down comforter warded away the morning chill.

Amberle's breathing was steady.

I must have dozed off because when I blinked my eyes open again, I lay in the crook of her arm, my eye level with the gentle curve of her breasts under the sheets.

She stirred when I yawned, and I cuddled up closer to her.

We were both awake, but neither of us seemed in a hurry to get out of the bed. Instead, we were content just to hold one another. I ran my hands over her skin, careful not to move too much or too quickly.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she whispered. I lifted my chin enough to bring my lips to hers. She tasted of the chai tea. Her skin was so soft.

"I can't believe I let you win," I mumbled.

Amberle giggled. "I was five minutes from giving up!"

Rolling my eyes, I have her a mock groan of disgust. This was probably the first time in my life that I didn't really care about "winning." I just wanted for Amberle to be close to me.

Physically.

Emotionally.

Her touch was reassuring in its simplicity. Just holding her hand was comforting.

When I was with her, I was ready to let go. Of my business attachments. Of the parts of my life that were draining of my energy and attention.

The best part was that I knew she didn't need me. Ours wasn't a relationship of convenience or one-sided—or even mutual—benefit. If anything, I was coming in to this relationship as the person with more to gain.

For all her talk about me taking her somewhere for a long vacation, I also knew that actually getting her to let me pay for it probably wasn't going to happen. But that didn't matter. Money wasn't really an issue for us. Yeah, I know that makes us sound a little arrogant, but we had both spent our lives being smart with our money, so we could afford to splurge when we wanted.

Under the down comforter, her skin on mine felt so good. So soft. So warm.

My hand strayed across her body and down her belly.

She spread her legs ever so slightly as my fingertips traced a line down one thigh and up the other.

I made several teasing passes across her neatly-trimmed mound. My lips sucked on her collarbone when I slipped a finger between her labia.

Amberle let out a soft moan when I pressed against the nub of her clit, and bucked her hips to meet each slow, gentle pass.

"Just like that," she purred in my ear. And I was happy to oblige her.

We fell into a steady rhythm. I build her up slowly.

Her pulse raced. Her breaths came faster.

Every couple of strokes, I let go of her clit and slipped a finger or two inside her.

The arm wrapped around me tensed.

Amberle's other hand clenched her breast. I leaned down and took her free nipple in my mouth, suckling her hungrily.

She spread her legs wide for me as I increased my pace.

"Oh, god!" my lover cried out, her body pulsing with excitement. "Don't . . . stop . . . don't fucking . . . stop . . ."

My hand was a blur, working her pussy over with wild abandon. Slick with desire, my hand made that delightfully naughty squishing sound as I massaged her clit.

Her voice was hoarse. Her fingernails dug into my shoulder.

"Oh, Jesus!" She threw her head back into the pillows. I stuck two fingers inside her just as her pussy flooded with warmth.

Amberle's pussy clenched around me and she let out low, throaty scream. I lifted my mouth off her breast and kissed her deeply and passionately.

Her legs clamped together as she rode out the orgasm, my hand trapped inside her.

She pulled me tight to her, trembling.

I slipped my hand out from between her legs and fell into her loving embrace.

We kissed for a long time, our bodies intertwined.

Her hands ran up and down my back, the featherlight touch of her fingertips drawing goosebumps on my skin. Our breasts pressed together, and our bodies seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

My hands brushed the hair out of her face and our eyes met.

"I love you," I whispered. Many years ago, in the very room where I held Amberle in post-coital bliss, I had vowed never to say those words to anyone ever again. It was the morning I lay in bed with Michael, his lifeless body still warm.

It was an empty promise. I knew it. My parents knew it. God knew it. They were the words of a broken heart and shattered dreams. I meant them at the time, but it was a vow I never could have kept.

I knew Michael understood, though.

Life went on. It always does. I found other loves. My husbands. My son.

And now Amberle.

Her hand caressed my cheek. I raked her fingertips with my teeth.

She pulled me down to her. Our foreheads pressed together, the tips of our noses brushing.

"And I love you," she replied softly and I found myself spellbound once again to her tender kisses.

As we held each other that morning, content just to be in the arms of one another, I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with this woman, wanting nothing.