Tea Leaves

"As a thank you for the use of what is quite probably the nicest bath in the country. Seriously, I feel like a new woman. Why don't you go use it as well to ease you out a bit, then... then we can see what we can... do."

"Um... the wine's there, and the tea is there... and there are snacks in that cupboard..."

"Wine it is then. See you in a bit," she purred as she bound her hair up behind her into a damp, abbreviated tail.

I slunk off upstairs and had a scalding but really quite brief soak, because the lure of her proximity was a far more powerful siren call than even the hot water could be.

Soon enough I'd staggered back downstairs in my faded fleece robe and grey mouse slippers. I found her on the couch, sipping her wine.

"You okay?" she asked. "Bath help at all?"

"Yeah. A little..."

"Good."

I took a seat opposite her, and tugged self-consciously at my robe, trying to prevent it from gaping open as was its occasional wont.

(Much to more than one deliveryman's delight, I thought wryly.)

She topped up my wineglass.

"You're quiet," she said, not looking at me.

"Just... weirdly happy. And... relaxed. Languid," I fibbed. I was actually as nervous as I could ever remember being.

She gave me an amused smirk. "That's a good word for me too. I'm... enjoying tonight, Dawn. It's nice to have someone to talk to for once. Someone to be adult with. My friends are... extremely young at heart, and yes I do realise the irony of me saying that. So... anyway, this is a nice change."

"Yeah. It is," I said, trying and failing to ignore the tantalising way my favourite nightshirt clung to her slight, perfect curves, hinting at the shape of her breasts under its sheer bottle-green form...

"Want me to fix your back for you?"

"Um..." I said, flushing.

"I'm pretty good at it," she added. "I've taken one or two courses."

"And I bet your hands are really strong," I added, without engaging my brain first.

She snorted. "Yeah. No callouses though, for what that's worth. How... firm... are the beds upstairs?"

"Let's go with... moderately..."

"Right, we'd better move. We'll need support and your sofa's too small and inconvenient."

"My bed is best then," I said. "But I'm going to have to beg you to excuse the mess..."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a student, Dawn. Mess is my natural state. I'll... leave the wine down here, shall I?"

"Right. Yes. Probably wise..."

She followed me upstairs, and I flushed like a teenager as I led her to the master bedroom. I tried to kick some underwear out of view; she pretended not to notice.

"Lie down," she said. "And take your robe off if you want."

"Uh..."

"It will help but it's not necessary if it..."

I swallowed, then turned my back on her as I slowly let it slide down off my shoulders. I could feel the goosebumps blossom over my naked shoulders, could feel the way my nipples hardened further in the chill...

I swallowed again.

"Dawn?"

"... uh huh," I said, not turning around.

"Go lie down," she said softly. "Pick a comfortable position that doesn't strain your back or neck. I won't look if that's what's worrying you."

"Okay," I whispered, intensely conscious of the faded daisy-print panties that I'd so habitually pulled on - tissue-paper thin and, now, my only remaining layer of armour.

I eased myself down onto my bed, and crawled up into vaguely the middle.

"Just put your arms by your sides and try to relax. I'm going to kneel to your right..."

"Uh huh... okay..."

"Right. Deep breath, this might be uncomfortable at first. Are you ready?"

"Uh huh..."

It wasn't uncomfortable. Not as such. And certainly not in the manner she meant. Just pressure, a small brief flash of briskly-fading pain as she located and went to work on the muscle group that had locked up when she'd startled me.

I lay, wincing occasionally, but as my back swiftly eased what little discomfort there was ebbed and I became more and more aware of other things.

Like the sound of her breathing.

And how unbelievably wonderful her hands felt on my back.

And the warmth of her bare thigh against my hip...

And how very, very much her touch was arousing me.

A knot of desire had taken root in my belly; desire to be kissed by her, desire to be held down and taken by her, desire... to be her helpless plaything... even if only for a single evening... even if only for a moment...

I screwed my eyes tightly closed, tried to think of anything else...

But all I could imagine was undressing for her and clambering onto her lap and... letting her have me...

"Dawn?"

"Uh huh..."

"Are... you okay? You're barely breathing..."

"Uh huh..." I whimpered.

"Righty ho. Nearly done."

"Oh. That's a shame," I whispered. "It's so... nice."

She laughed softly. "I'll give you more of these. Trade you for time in your bathtub."

"Deal," I groaned. "But you're getting a shocking exchange rate. You're so good at this you should push for three to one at least..."

And then I shuddered as she laughed again and leaned in to hug me.

She felt so marvellous against me... I could feel the slight weight of her breasts against my shoulder, the hard nubs of her no doubt perfect nipples...

I bit down hard on my lip to try to stifle myself.

And I was sure I felt her shudder as well...

"All done," she breathed after a moment, and I squeezed my eyes closed, despairing, as she let me go.

"Put your clothes on." she said. "I've got one more glass in me then I should probably hit the hay."

"Ditto," I whispered, blushing like mad. "Starting to get sleepy now. Maybe I should pick tea for myself..."

"Hmm... maybe for me too then. I'll let wiser heads lead."

"I'm not wiser. Just... older."

"Not that much older," she whispered. "Not nearly enough to matter even a little."

.:.

"Have you got enough blankets?"

"Yeah, I think I'm going to be grand. Thanks, Dawn," she yawned. "God, I'm shattered. Sleep well, gorgeous."

"Um... you too," I said.

I closed her door partway, then slunk back to my room. I pushed my door closed, slouched to my bed, and then sat down and stared at my feet.

I took stock of my state, and sighed at the single syllable summary: dire.

I was unbearably horny.

I hadn't been this aroused, this desperate for touch for... years.

I spread my legs slightly, trailed a finger along my crotch, and shuddered.

Soaked. I was soaked.

She'd probably been able to smell me, I thought ruefully.

I considered her.

I pondered the small hints, the infinitesimal glimpses of signals that I was almost convinced I'd seen...

And that joke about undressing her...

That had been blatant, hadn't it?

Unless she was just fucking with me...

Surely not...

Surely she'd not throw something so in-my-face out there...

I shuddered, tried hard to stifle the moan as I pressed my legs hard together.

My belly spasmed.

"Fuck," I whimpered.

I was burning up and I needed quenching.

I struggled out of my panties.

I eased myself back onto my bed and spread myself more.

And then, almost without wanting to, I started to tease myself. A finger tracing slow zeroes around the base of my clit, another gently probing my soaking slit.

"Oh," I whimpered, as another spasm took me.

I rolled over onto my belly and started to tease myself with one hand while I ground the fingers of my other into me.

"Chloe," I whispered, tasting the lovely shape of her name.

I bit my lip hard, whimpered, gasped as my body shuddered...

I knew it wouldn't take long. Tonight would be swift, frantic field medicine, not the languid delicious teasing I sometimes allowed myself when bored, when I'd try to stretch myself out for hours and would sometimes come so hard I'd black out for a second or two...

I cried out, then buried my face in my bedding to try to muffle myself. I was so desperate for touch, so desperate for her to touch me.

My body was aching, I was aching to be taken, to be pushed down, to be forcefully used until I couldn't walk properly or think coherently or even pronounce my own name...

I wanted her to push me over and fuck me down into senseless incoherent darkness.

I could almost feel the weight of her on my back, the hard digits of her hand between my thighs, pistoning into me as she pinned me to my bed...

I cried out again, softer, muffled by the fabric of the duvet.

I was close, building fast, panting through the constricting cloth, thighs quivering, spasming closed in an increasing tempo on my furiously-busy hands...

"Mh... mmmh... mmmmoh... fuck..." I panted.

Then nothing intelligent - just breathy gasps as my pussy began to pulse a frantic tempo on my spreading, twirling, curling fingers.

And slowly everything eased.

I took a slow, shaky breath and slipped my slick fingers out of me.

I fell over onto my side and lay there, quivering.

I licked my fingers clean by force of habit, then coughed. I wiped my mouth, and tugged my robe closed around me.

I waited quietly until my breathing had normalised to some degree. The last thing I needed right now was to encounter her en-route...

I opened my door, and padded softly to the bathroom to rinse my lips and mouth, my labia and my hands.

Chloe's door was closed; I glanced wistfully at it as I passed by.

Open it begged my unhelpful inner self.

I sighed and made for my own bed.

I killed the light, pulled my covers up to my chin, and lay there, feeling cold.

And dirty.

And, as ludicrous as I knew it sounded... forgotten.

.:.

I turned away from my kitchen window as she stumbled downstairs.

"How the fuck are you awake and human?" she groaned as she slumped down at my kitchen table.

"Years of practice. I write best when it's dark, so early mornings and late evenings are my time. Coffee?"

"Oh God, please," she whispered. "Coffee and a new head, mine's pounding. How much did we drink?"

"Not a huge amount... but you did work that svelte bum of yours off for it..."

"Maybe that's it," she grunted. "Thanks, sweetie," she added, as I put a glass of water and two aspirin down for her.

She whimpered softly and rested her head on her hands. "I don't drink much. And now I remember why."

"I have restorative jams and marmalades if you'd like..."

"Just coffee, please. Coffee and sympathy," she whined. "I know it's self inflicted, but... a hug would be marvellous..."

So I leaned forward and gave her one, and flushed as she wrapped her arm around me and pinned me to her as she nuzzled against me for a warm, extended moment...

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut at the sudden pang in my heart.

"Thanks," she breathed. She gave me a small smile as I slipped into the chair beside hers.

"What are you up to today?" I said over the sound of my kettle's Sisyphean struggles.

"I need to go home and collect my laptop. I have an essay to write - the fist draft is due for Monday, and... I want to start getting to work ideas for your chair."

"Oh..." I said, touched. "You really don't..."

"You are destroying yourself with that torture instrument you're using. You will permanently maim yourself. It's an easy fix, you need something to correct your posture, something that's comfortable. A laptop stand wouldn't hurt either. They're both easy things to make, really..."

"I could just buy..."

"Or you could let me make you something personal, with care and affection, to your dimensions." she interrupted me. "Unless you'd rather I... didn't."

"Um... no... that's not..."

"Then it's settled. Stop arguing," she said, with a smile that entirely removed any possible sting from her words.

I flushed and looked away.

"Um... can... can I make you some breakfast?"

"If you'd like to, I wouldn't say no..."

"Um... we have... toast?"

"Toast sounds grand," she said softly. "Then I'm going to have to love you and leave you... for now."

"... Oh."

I blushed at the choice of words.

"Would you..."

"Would I... what?"

"Would you like to... come back later?" I said, hesitantly.

"I would love that," she replied.

"Do you want to... to come have supper with me again?"

And I basked in the warmth of her sudden, unrehearsed smile.

"That, Dawn, would be absolutely magical," she answered.

"Then let me work my spells on you," I said, and she grinned.

I made her some toast and a fresh cup of coffee. I made sure she took her aspirins. And I gave her another warm, deliciously lingering hug before we fought her bicycle out through my narrow front door.

"Don't forget - you promised to come back," I reminded her.

"Oh, don't you worry, I will be back sooner than you think. I just need my laptop and my bag and... anything else you want me to bring?"

"I'm well stocked on wine. Bring your appetite," I said with a grin.

"Will do. See you in a bit, gorgeous."

She swung her leg over her saddle and pushed off into the golden morning glow.

.:.

"How in the good and holy name of fuck do you sit in this thing for more than five minutes?" she roared. "I've literally just sat down and I'm already sore!"

"Long years of acclimatisation to self-abuse?" I called from my kitchen counter.

"Holy hell, Dawn. I'm surprised you're still able to move!"

"It's a terrible chair. I freely admit it's a terrible chair. But... I'm just really useless at admin stuff like... buying a less terrible chair..."

"I am going to fix this for you. Oh my God. I can't even..."

She came clattering through to the kitchen, laptop under her arm. She plonked it down across from me and stared down at me.

"Unbelievable," she said, shaking her head.

"That bad, huh?" I said, amused.

"Fuck me sideways, Dawn. I have no words. We should immediately take that torture implement outside and saw it into pieces and set it on fire. I will strip and dance around it, ululating."

"Sounds like a fun thing to do, actually," I grinned. "Maybe when you deliver this fabled replacement."

"Speaking of..." she said. "Here, look at this, it's... oh for fuck sakes, turn on you cretinous device... there..."

I stared at some sort of strange computer program that showed five thousand million spidery lines and a whole lot of indecipherable figures in boxes around it.

"What... is that?"

"Your new chair. Or, to be frank, your new height-adjustable kneeling stool."

"Um... "

"I know, it looks a bit strange. This bit here's the seat, these pads here are for your knees. I'm thinking of adding a backrest as well because you seem to love slumping over so much..."

"Guilty as charged," I murmured, staring blankly at it.

"Why are you... oh... Chloe, you tappet. Sorry Dawn, I'm such a moron... wait, let me change the view and add the textures..."

She hit a couple of keys, and suddenly the indecipherable noise simplified into... furniture.

"Oh... oh wow, now I understand..."

"Sorry, I'm so used to working like this it's second nature to me..."

"It looks... nice."

"Nice is good," she said. "Hopefully it will be "Amazing" or "Oh my God, Chloe," when it exists. I'm fishing for a couple of baths in exchange..."

"I'll give you a key," I muttered distractedly. "You can come invade whenever you want, and I'll cook for you every night for a year and a day..."

"Don't make promises etcetera etcetera..." she began

"No! No, I mean it. It's... it's just so nice to have you here," I said, suddenly flustered.

"If you carry on saying things like that you're going to have to get used to having me around, because I'll decamp here and you'll never get rid of me. And I do mean that."

"You say that like it's a... bad thing," I whispered.

She eyed me for a moment, then frowned and looked away.

"You're... very sweet," she said. She shot me a quick glance that I couldn't interpret.

And then we descended into silence... and, sure enough, I began to panic.

"Do you walk at all?" I asked her in desperation. "I'm... I feel like I need some outside time. My book's a... well, it's a complete fuckup and... and I need fresh air."

"I'm not dressed for it, but so long as we stick to paths of some sort these shoes will cope... why?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to join me in... my woods."

"Your... woods," she said, eyes narrowing.

"Something else you should probably know about me sooner rather than later, I guess," I sighed. "The path and corner that nearly killed you is... well, they're... kind of mine."

"Wait. You're actually serious when you say my woods?"

"Yeah. I'm afraid so..."

"Um... so... how much are we talking about here..."

"It's... everything from my fence to the service road in the west, and from there to the bridge where the stream goes under the service road. It's not that big, only seven or so acres..."

"It's big enough," she said, wide-eyed. "Wow. I thought it was all part of the green belt..."

"I thought so too at first... but the prior owner of the house owned the land too, and since he was moving into care he didn't want it to be sold off or cleared. He... he basically gave it to me for a song on the condition that I promised to never sell it for development; he and his late wife used to walk in it all the time and he wanted other people to be able to continue to use it as they had. And... I've honoured that promise."

"Wow. Wow," she said softly, shaking her head. "So... you basically just let us plebs run riot in what is effectively your shrubbery?"

"Um... well, there are ancient rights of way... and... it's just woodland, right? Trees are pretty hardy..."

"You let us trespass," she said, "in your shrubbery." She was grinning. "Shall I start practising my curtseys, Dawn?"

"I knew this would get weird," I whispered.

"Hey... I'm teasing. I swear. It's... it's just nice to know that the land is safe. I've always loved cycling through there. Come. I'd love to go walk down your garden path with you," she added, with a wicked grin. "Just give me an hour or so to get my essay bedded down and I'm all yours."

"Literally or figuratively," I asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said, with a small, inscrutable smile.

And once again she left me in a head space where I could not decide whether she was fucking with me or not.

Likely fucking with me.

I eyed her, eyed the grin, the flush... the oh-so-innocent smile.

Yes.

Definitely fucking with me.

I sighed, and went to find my shoes.

.:.

"I like your woods," she declared. She stared up at the leaves above us, and then slowly spun around to admire the dappled mid-afternoon shade. "It's wonderful here. This patch of land always feels... calm."

"I think it's because so many people care for it. The land's absorbed their love. They come here to walk, play with their kids, build forts, pick blackberries, shag..."

"Wait, they shag here?"

"Oh yeah. All the time. I've... had one or two encounters..."

"Sexual encounters?" she demanded, wide-eyed and incredulous.

"No! God, no! I mean... I've stumbled over..."

"Oh. Jesus, you had me worried there for a bit," she cackled. "I thought you were going to wax lyrical about dogging or being sky-clad or something..."

"Dogging," I said, levelly. "Really, Chloe? Do I look that...dog-dgy?"

"Oh my God that is awful. I am going to demand a forfeit for that one."

"Really?" I grinned.

"Yes," she said. "I'm going to make you run my next bath for me."

"Oh, that's easy. And there I thought you were going to demand I wash your back or kiss you or something..."

"Uh..." she said, and I realised that I'd let my mouth run away with me.

"Shit," I said. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. Sorry, Chloe... I... I didn't mean to offend..."

"No... no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she answered. She reached out to touch my arm.

I shivered.

"So... this area is where lots of people come to hunt for mushrooms," I babbled, desperate to distract myself and paint over my faux pas. "But personally I'm far too scared to try foraging for them."