45 comments/ 71372 views/ 145 favorites Such a Little Thing Ch. 01 By: ScattySue This is part one of a lesbian romance. I've split the story into three parts to keep each one a reasonable length but it is a continuous story. Many thanks must go to EarthlyRose for her help editing this story. Additional gratitude and thanks to Winterreisser for his further editorial comments and suggestions. If you enjoy this story please rate and leave a comment. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ CHAPTER 1 -- Endings and Beginnings When I think back, it was such a little thing that started it all: she slipped her hand under mine and held it as she placed the money in my hand... That was all: the feeling of her soft, warm hands enfolding mine as she placed the cool, hard coins into my outstretched palm. Everything changed from that point on. Of course, someone looking at my life, some mythical biographer (as if anyone would ever be that interested in me!) would no doubt contend that my life had already been full of changes immediately preceding this mysterious hand-holding. I had, six weeks previously, crashed ignominiously out of my Fine Arts degree at the end of the first year -- a failure to submit a single piece of coursework completed to an acceptable standard does tend to get noticed and acted upon. I had my reasons, of course. Or rather, one large reason: Maxwell Thomas, six foot one of all round waster and utter, utter bastard as I now know him to be. However, over most of the last year I believed myself in love with him; stupidly, soppily, blindly and girl-away-from-home-for-the-first-time in love. True, he was fit and good looking and could be devastatingly charming when he tried; true, he was pretty good in bed and yes, he always had an idea of something fun to do -- or at least, something more fun than my coursework. So I thought myself the luckiest girl in the university (or so people kept telling me) and I spent the year letting him leading me astray, occasionally making love to me, distracting me, charming me... until Jeanette, the girl who had walked out on him eighteen months earlier, walked back in and, with a little pout and curl of her finger, I was dumped without so much as a "Dear Amber, I'm really sorry but..." Perhaps I should have done a Tracey Emin and channelled all of my pain, hurt and anger into some searing artwork... but I didn't: I became a damp, miserable, reclusive wreck for three weeks. After that, my future on the course was settled: I didn't have one. My parents alternated between concern, upset and fury over what had happened, the chance I had thrown away and my future. However, it was my Uncle Graham who eventually offered a solution. He was Mum's older brother and was definitely in the 'favourite uncle' class. He was unmarried and, without wishing to boast, I knew I was his favourite niece. He and Mum, along with their two brothers and sister, were from Yorkshire but unlike Mum, whose years living down South had greatly softened her accent, Uncle Graham still had a broad accent that I loved to hear. He owned a chain of shops that undertook picture framing for customers' paintings, photos and the like, as well as selling pictures, and that went by the slightly cheesy name of 'In The Frame'. He was opening a new shop in a small town and offered me the post of 'Branch Manager', which sounded impressive until I realized that I was the only employee in the new branch, so I would be doing everything! "Come on, Amber, lass," I remember Uncle Graham coaxing me, "Tha's nowt else to at t' moment and it'll give thee a chance to do summat new. Tha's a good head on tha shoulders and a good eye for drawings and t' like. I can teach thee how t' do the framing easy enough." I was still unsure until he added, gently "And there's a little bit of a flat over the shop too; nothing grand like but comfortable enough for one. Tha could stay there no problem and tha wouldn't have t' live back at home. I know things 'as been a bit narky, you know, a bit moody there of late." Well, that sold it to me, what with home being a place I'd rather not be; not only because of my parents but also repeatedly encountering old friends over the summer and having to keep admitting just how badly I'd screwed up. So three weeks later, courtesy of Uncle Graham, I found myself stood in the little flat over the shop: a sitting room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom, all newly refurbished and decorated, and my worldly possessions in two suitcases and half a dozen boxes. From the new paint smell, I guessed that the pristine condition of the flat was another gift from Uncle Graham, along with the job and my newly acquired skills at framing , glass cutting and mounting. I spent that Saturday afternoon unpacking and getting sorted before taking an early evening walk through the town. The framing shop -- my framing shop -- was located at the end of a parade of shops on the edge of the town, next to a coffee shop. Beyond that was a hairdressers, a betting shop and, finally, one of those 24/7 small shops that sold sweets and newspapers, bread and milk and well, whatever else people tended to need at odd hours. The centre of town was nice enough with a reasonable range of shops, several restaurants and take away outlets, a couple of pubs, a cinema and a small theatre should I ever get the urge to watch the local amateur dramatic society's efforts. I completed my brief orientation tour before raiding the supermarket for essentials and toiling home with three heavy bags. Sunday was taken up with getting the shop ready and set up the way I wanted as well as trying to allay my worries about what I'd taken on. The practical skills didn't worry me too much (though I found cutting glass scary) and neither did the artistic side of advising customers on frame styles, mount colours and the like. It was the responsibility and, above all, keeping accounts that gave me a cold, sinking feeling in my stomach. I looked at myself in the mirror I was hanging (art deco style, bevelled glass, £75) and saw a slightly frazzled looking twenty year old girl and fell to studying myself. Pale blue eyes in a heart shaped face with a fair complexion that still sported a few freckles, though far fewer than when I was young, surrounded by the curly pale reddish-blonde hair that had inspired my name: Amber. Attractive enough overall, I supposed, but nothing exceptional. Much the same for my body: moderately sized boobs, reasonably trim waist, and a bum and legs that were, according to several people, my best assets -- and that praise was why I jogged regularly. So: Ms Not-bad-but-nothing-exceptional, university dropout and dumped girlfriend, who was about to start running a shop single handed. No wonder I looked frazzled! However, Uncle Graham was trusting me, so I had just better just woman-up and deal with it! I slept surprisingly well that night, all things considered; I suppose eight hours of arranging supplies, moving shop fittings, hanging pictures and general cleaning and tidying is tiring. Three bottles of beer that evening probably helped too. CHAPTER 2 -- The Little Thing Monday, the grand opening day, didn't have me exactly rushed off my feet but there were people popping in during the morning and I even took three framing orders: go me! When there was a lull I decided to pop next door to grab a coffee -- instant coffee's okay but it can't compare to a decent skinny latte. The coffee shop had only one customer, sat at a table in the corner, so I went up to the counter where the barista had her back to me. "Hi," I called and she turned to me. "Could I get a skinny latte to go?" "Go where?" she asked. "Er, next door actually. Does that matter?" She smiled, "No, I'm only messing with you. I've not seen you in here before, are you just passing through?" she asked as she began making my coffee. She was tall and slim, without being bony, and very pretty. She was also a few years older than me I guessed. Her long dark hair, tied back in a ponytail, and her olive skin suggested a Mediterranean heritage. I have to admit I envied not only her smooth, tanned skin but her also her great figure, clearly visible in her white tee shirt and black leggings under her apron. "No, I'm new in the town; I arrived here at the weekend. I'm running the new shop next door and today's the opening day so I desperately need a caffeine fix! Um, my name is Amber, by the way, Amber Taylor." She looked back over her shoulder at me. "Hello Amber. I'm Milla; it's actually short for Camilla but if you call me that I might just have to kill you!" she laughed as she poured the steamed milk into the cup. She brought the cup over and I saw that she'd poured the milk to make a leaf-like pattern before she clipped the lid on. "Very impressive," I honestly admired as I placed money on the counter. "Thank you," she replied, picking up the money. "However, this is on the house -- consider it a neighbourly welcoming present." She slipped her hand under mine and held it as she placed the money in my hand and the feel of her soft, warm hands enfolding mine as she placed the cool, hard coins into my outstretched palm made me tingle. I looked down at my hand in hers, mesmerised by the feeling and almost expecting to see little sparks. Suddenly I came back to myself and managed a tongue-tied "Thank you, that's very kind." "I hope we can be friends as well as neighbours, Amber." "Me too!" I responded, making myself cringe at the desperate excitement in my voice. "I, er, better get back," I added in a more normal voice and awkwardly left the coffee shop. I glanced up at the name of the shop: Caffè Carluccio and I wondered briefly who Carluccio was. I sipped the coffee as I sat in my shop; it was very good. I could still feel her hand touching mine, its warmth and softness, her skin against my skin. What was the matter with me? Perhaps it was just my loneliness and that she'd been the first person I'd really met in a new town where I knew no one. Yes, I decided, that was it. However, that didn't stop me thinking seriously about going back for a second cup as soon as I'd finished the first one, just to see her and be able to talk to her some more. In frustration at my silliness I headed out to the workshop at the back to begin work on the orders that had been placed that morning. I worked steadily with occasional interruptions from more customers. They were just browsing, though, and there were no more orders or sales. I still caught myself several times cupping my hand as Milla had or just thinking about her touch but on each occasion I shook my head and went back to work. Late in the afternoon I had just glued up a frame and was clamping it to hold it together whilst the glue set when I heard another customer enter. "I'll be with you in just a minute," I called as I continued tightening the clamps carefully, keeping the corners square. "Knock, knock!" a voice from the workshop doorway made me jump. I looked round to see Milla, now without her apron but holding out another cup of her delicious coffee. "For me?" I asked, wiping the excess glue from the frame with a rag. "That's very kind of you." "It's nothing. I close at four o'clock and, as you hadn't come back sooner, I didn't want you to miss out." She smiled and accepted my offer of a seat; I sat too and we got chatting. She was twenty-four, hadn't done particularly well at school and college but always greatly enjoyed working in the Caffè. I asked where the name Carluccio came from. "Well, my surname is Carluccio, but the original Carluccio is my Nonno, my grandfather. My Papa -- his son, of course -- rejected working in the Caffè and became an architect so Nonno was really pleased that I liked working there. He's virtually retired now and so I'm in charge, which I love." In return, I surprised myself by telling her my unabridged life story and the sad sequence of events that had brought me into the picture framing business. She put her hand over mine as I told her of the dumping by Max and when I'd finished she gave me a little hug. "Well at least something good came out of it all," she said, "I got to meet you," which I thought was such a kind thing to say. We carried on chatting like old friends until I noticed that it was gone six o'clock and I hadn't shut the shop. Milla jumped up too. "Oh, crap!" she swore gently, "I need to go; I'm going to Nonno's for dinner." "I hope you won't be late," I replied and she shook her head. "Thank you for making me feel so welcome, Milla and I'll see you tomorrow," I called after her as she hurried out, waving goodbye. I locked the door and turned the sign to 'CLOSED' before heading upstairs. As soon as I walked into the empty flat I felt lonely; I had really enjoyed those two hours chatting with Milla. As a distraction I changed into my running kit and ran for nearly 50 minutes, through the centre of town and out the other side, then back by the same route to avoid getting lost in what was still a strange place. Back home and hungry, I had to resort to one of the few things I could reliably make: a ham and cheese omelette and salad. I wasn't in catered halls of residence any more so I really was going to need to learn to cook more than omelettes and muffins, my other speciality. I watched some telly, tried to read, checked my emails and surfed the web but just couldn't settle. I wanted to chat with someone; actually, had I been more honest with myself, I'd have admitted it was Milla I wanted to chat with. I again found myself remembering the little hand hold of our first meeting. I thought about how pretty she was -- no, not just pretty, she was gorgeous, and I had spent enough hours in life drawing classes to appreciate female beauty. Eventually, I went to bed where the stresses and excitements of opening day caught up with me and I went out like a light. CHAPTER 3 -- Confessions of an Incorrigible Exhibitionist Having gone to sleep early, the normal consequence followed and I woke early, though being summertime it was already light outside. I couldn't recall what I'd dreamt but I felt as horny as hell. The tee shirt I was wearing had ridden up so my hand easily found its way over the tiny trimmed triangle of hair on my pubis and my hairless outer labia to my inner lips, which were swollen and puffy. Two fingers slid easily into myself and I gave a little moan of pleasure. I really was ridiculously wet given that I'd just awoken and I could now smell my arousal -- wow, that smelt really nice. I couldn't resist doing what I'd always thought of as a bit kinky: I withdrew my juice-coated fingers and put them in my mouth, savouring the taste of myself. I had done this only once or twice before over the years when I was close to orgasm but I found the taste amazingly delicious and arousing that morning so I repeated the process -- dip and suck -- several more times, each time trying to get as much of my pussy juice on my fingers as possible. I found myself wishing that I could lick my own pussy and with that idea in my head, two fingers deep inside me and my thumb rubbing my clit I gave a stifled cry as I climaxed, my back arching off the mattress and the wonderful, magical sensations sparkling all through my body and brain. I gradually came back down, a wonderful relaxed afterglow filling me. Usually, when not in the throes of passion, I found the thought of tasting my pussy juice a little, well, unpleasant and distasteful. Not so today. I realized that my fingers were still buried in my pussy and I slowly pulled them out. They were sopping and I surprised myself by putting them in my mouth again -- instead of wiping them on my shirt as I would normally -- and enjoying the taste just as much as I had before the orgasm. More than that, it was turning me on again. I rolled onto my side, still sucking my fingers, and fumbled in the bedside cabinet drawer with my left hand. After a few moments, my questing fingers found their prize and I took out a small, silver bullet vibrator. I traced the point along my slit a few times before pressing the button on the back. The tingling vibrations on my sensitive lips were delicious. I raised my knees and spread them wide as I ran my little vibe up and down my pussy slit. Despite having had an orgasm already, I found myself building fast once more as I slid the tip lower, across my perineum to gently rub my little anal pucker. The sensation was intense and I realized that I was moaning loudly and, not knowing how soundproof the walls were, I bit my lip to quieten myself. It helped: I was now just making a continuous low growl. I was getting close now. Without volition, three fingers of my left hand plunged into my pussy and the thumb knuckle ground against my clit. That was enough and I was racked by my second glorious orgasm of the morning. When I came back to earth I felt wonderfully satisfied and content: I really had needed that! It occurred to me that this was the first time I had masturbated since Max had dumped me. Without hesitation I licked my fingers clean and even sucked the vibrator as I wondered if all girls tasted the same. Whoa, Missy! Where did that come from? I quickly put the vibrator back in the drawer and headed to the kitchen for a no-nonsense cup of tea and some toast. A quick shower and by half seven I was back down in the workshop. By the time I opened the shop at 9 o'clock I had completed two of the framing orders (even cutting the glass, which I still found quite nerve-racking) and the third was under way. I had a couple of early customers: one wanted a frame for a family photograph and the other was more challenging. It was the repair of an existing frame and while the replacement glass and remounting would ordinarily be no problem, even for a relative novice like me, the issue was that the frame was oval so some challenging glass cutting would be needed. However, I didn't feel I could turn down work on day two as this would not help the shop's reputation, so I accepted the order with some trepidation and just prayed that I wouldn't end up covered in cuts. The early 'rush' over and two new orders taken, I felt that I had earned my coffee and so hurried next door. My heart gave a little skip as I saw Milla wiping down a table in the otherwise empty shop. I was glad she was on her own so we could talk, even though I knew I couldn't stay long. She looked up as I pushed the door open and her delighted smile as she saw me was a mirror of my own. "Hi, neighbour," I said, "How are you?" "Buongiorno mia amica! I'm very well, thank you. Amber, do you know how amazing your hair looks with the sun behind it? You look like your head's on fire!" I was both flattered and embarrassed and felt my cheeks get hot. "And now your face has caught fire!" she teased. I responded easily to her bantering tone and I stuck my tongue out at her. "Do all your customers get teased for their hair colour? Their perfectly natural hair colour, I might add!" "Only the ones who are close friends," she smiled. I became even redder and had to swallow hard. "Thank you," I managed, "though we only met yesterday, so we can't really be close friends yet." "Can't we?" She looked disappointed and I felt guilty for spoiling her mood. I remembered how I'd missed being able to chat with her last night. "Maybe; but if we're not yet then we definitely will be soon -- tomorrow at the latest I should think." I smiled at her. "Excellent!" she laughed. "And I wasn't just teasing you: your hair is a lovely colour. Much nicer that my boring black." "I like your hair: so long and sleek and elegant. At least it doesn't look like a dandelion ready to tell the time -- or like you've a bonfire on your head!" I told her with mock sternness. I grinned as she finished the table, straightened up and put her tongue out at me. "Now, if I order a coffee, will you let me pay today, please?" Such a Little Thing Ch. 01 "Well, I don't normally let close friends pay but, since we won't be that until tomorrow, I guess I'll have to," she sighed. "Skinny latte?" I nodded and she walked behind the counter to start making it. "Amber, do you want to put an advert for your shop in here? Or some leaflets perhaps? I know you've not seen it, but it does get busy in here at times." "Thanks, that's very kind and an excellent idea. Maybe I could include a discount voucher on the leaflet. Oh, and if you want to do the same in my shop; not likely to bring you many customers I know, but still. If I ever have someone waiting I'll certainly suggest they come in here." "Thank you," she said loudly over the hissing steam, "we can help each other." "Perhaps we should just knock a doorway through and share customers." I suggested, laughing. "Now you're just after unlimited access to my wonderful coffee, aren't you?" "I hadn't thought of that but, now you mention it, I'll be back with a drill to cut that doorway this afternoon!" She placed the coffee on the counter, once again with its leaf patterned foam. She held out her hand, "Two pounds twenty, please." On impulse I slipped my hand under hers and held it as I placed the coins into her palm. I don't know why I emulated what she'd done at our first meeting yesterday: it simply seemed a fun idea but she gave me a strange look, as if the action meant more than I realized. Unsure of what else to do I smiled and said, "There you go, Milla," before gently releasing her hand. "Amber," she said a little hoarsely, "you didn't mind my coming in yesterday after I closed did you?" I blinked at her in amazement. "No, no, not at all. In fact I really enjoyed it and... well, I sort of missed your company after you went. Will you come over this afternoon?" "Of course, I'd love to," she smiled, almost, it seemed, in relief. "Excellent!" I exclaimed. "I've a tricky bit of glass cutting to do so you can pick up any fingers I accidentally sever! Only kidding," I added at the look of dismay on her face. "I'd better go. See you later." I glanced back as I closed the door and she waved at me. There was only one customer that afternoon so I took the opportunity to fire up the shop computer. 'Fire up' turned out to be an appropriate term as it was so old it was practically steam powered! I wasn't exactly a techy but I obviously had more idea than Uncle Graham and resolved to use my laptop in future. In the meantime, the PC allowed me to clunkily navigate Google to find some guidance on cutting glass in curves, circles and ovals. Applying what I'd found to some off cuts of glass I found that it wasn't as difficult as I'd feared and the hardest part would be scoring the oval onto the glass with the glasscutter freehand. It had now gone half past three and I was tempted to wait for Milla before making a start on the glass. She had her fancy coffee foam art so why shouldn't I impress her with my skills? However, common sense prevailed: I really didn't need the extra pressure of an audience and so I began cutting the oval. Unfortunately, I soon hit a problem; this oval was much larger that my practice pieces so I couldn't score it continuously and with even pressure so when I came to snap it, the oval broke in two. I tried again, even more carefully, but while this was better, one end of the oval still broke off. "Shit!" I swore loudly. "Are you alright?" Milla's voice was full of fear and concern. "I'm fine," I replied, turning to her and holding up my hands. "See? All fingers present and correct!" My eyes settled on the cup she was holding. "Ah, an angel bearing coffee! Thank you," I said as I accepted the cup. "I'm glad you're not hurt; I'm really not good with blood. So, what are you swearing about?" I explained about the oval frame, showed her the card mount that I'd cut and how I was having problems with the glass. "They make special oval glass cutters but as I don't have one I need to do it freehand and it's not working." I concluded grumpily. She looked at the glass, the frame and the mount for a minute, thinking. "Why don't you use that card -- the mount, you called it? -- why not use that as a template to trace around with the glasscutter thingy?" I looked at her and smiled. "Of course! You're not just a pretty face, are you, you clever girl?" I dumped the broken glass in the glass bin and laid a new piece on the bench and placed the oval mount on top. "Here goes," I said. A few minutes later and after the final sharp crack! the perfect oval lay on the bench surrounded by the four waste off cuts. I looked up at the sound of Milla clapping. "Well done!" she congratulated me. I gave a small bow. "Thank you for your clever suggestion, Milla. Without that I'm sure that I'd still be breaking glass." I raised the coffee cup to her as a toast. "Cheers!" She sat as I wiped the glass free of dirt and fingerprints and began assembling the frame as we talked. "How was dinner with Nonno Carluccio?" I asked. "It was lovely. I like being with him and he's a great cook. How was your evening, Amber?" "Nothing exciting: I went for a run, had dinner then just flopped until bed time." "Do you run often?" she asked with interest. "Well, when I get into it I try to run three times a week. I'm not always that into it though. Do you run?" "Um, sometimes; the trouble is I get a bit bored running on my own and I'm not good at motivating myself," she admitted. "We could run together, if you'd like," I offered. "We'd make a good team: I'll motivate you and you can make sure we don't get lost. We could go this evening if you'd like." "It's a deal, but I was going to ask if you wanted to come over to my flat for dinner this evening? I'm not as good a cook as Nonno, but I'm not too bad, I promise." I laughed. "Can you cook more than omelette and chocolate muffins?" She nodded, puzzled. "Then you are a much better cook than me and I'd love to come. Can I bring anything? Wine, perhaps?" "That would be great," she smiled. I finished reassembling the oval frame. "Milla, could you pass that roll of little stickers on the shelf behind you?" She turned and picked them up and passed them to me and as she did so our fingers brushed together. Though the contact was slight and fleeting, I was acutely aware of it: a sort of warmth lingering where her skin had brushed mine. Why was I so hyper-sensitive to this woman's touch? "Amber?" Milla's voice broke through my reverie. "Sorry!" I replied, snapping back to reality, "I was, er, just thinking about something." "What?" she asked, leaning forward and looking at me intently. Our heads were closer than they'd ever been and I looked into her eyes. How had I not noticed them before? My artist's eye saw they were a deep brown -- burnt umber perhaps -- around the pupil but further out the iris shaded to a dark gold, no, not gold: amber! I laughed. Milla pulled back, a slightly offended look on her pretty face. "Sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I promise." "What was it, then?" "It was your eyes. I've... I didn't really notice them before. They're..." I felt my cheeks blush slightly; I wanted to say they were beautiful but I was worried she'd think I was gay, "...amazing. The way the brown in the centre becomes, well amber. That's what made me laugh, even though it's not really funny, is it?" "No, it's not funny but, well, nice. I like that we share a colour -- and it proves we are meant to be close friends," she said firmly. I conceded the point and peeled off one of the little labels that had the name and address of the shop printed on it and stuck it on the back of the picture. "There, all done!" I declared as I stood the frame up. "It looks good. You're very clever, Amber; I couldn't do any of this," as she gestured round the workshop. "All I do is make coffee." "No, you make excellent coffee," I corrected, "and run a very lovely, warm and friendly coffee shop. I'm so glad you are my neighbour." "Me too," she smiled happily. Just then, a customer came in and I had to head back into the shop. It was oval picture woman who had called in 'on the off-chance it might be ready.' She was very pleased when I told her that, yes, it was indeed ready and I went back into the workshop to fetch the picture. Milla was stood by the bench at the side of the room looking at something. However, I had no time to see what it was and hurried back into the shop with the oval picture. Ten minutes later I walked back into the workshop. "Woo-hoo! My first sale and my first, and very satisfied, customer," I exclaimed. Milla turned to me and without thinking I took three steps and gave her a big hug. She seemed to hesitate and I almost pulled away, thinking I'd upset her, before she hugged me back. We fitted together well, despite the difference in our heights; my arms under hers and her shoulder would have been just the right height to rest my cheek upon. I was still reluctant to let her go: I felt very cared for and safe at that moment. However, I became conscious that her breasts were resting and pressing in the tops of mine and, while a pleasant sensation, it made me awkward. "Thanks for helping with the glass, Milla," I said as I broke the hug, "I'd not have had it ready otherwise. I definitely owe you one." "Really? Well, maybe we can talk about it over dinner. Speaking of which, I must get on with cooking so I will see you later. Is half past six okay?" I nodded and she stepped closer. I wondered what she was about to do but she just squeezed my shoulder as she moved past and left the shop. I felt... nervous? Yes, all sort of jangled, excited, and apprehensive. I tried to analyse my thoughts and feelings. I could I still feel that hug I'd given her -- it had felt unexpectedly good. I'd had a boyfriend until a few weeks ago and we'd done lots of kissing and had fairly regular sex so what was it about being with Milla that felt, well, so much nicer? And then it hit me: it was affection. Milla seemed to care about me as a person. She wanted to spend time with me and to talk and, yes, to listen. She wanted us to be friends, even when all she'd seen was a frazzled, caffeine-craving girl! Max had only cared about me as his girlfriend, not as me, not as Amber. I felt used but then it occurred to me that it was as much my fault as his: how often had I introduced myself as 'Max's girlfriend, Amber'? So, what had I thought Milla might do when she moved towards me? I didn't know. Hug me? That would have been nice. Kiss my cheek? Yes, that's was the truth: I thought she might kiss me and now I felt a slight disappointment that she hadn't. "Get a grip, girl," I said out loud. "You're being ridiculous!" Perhaps three months being single was getting to me and, though I hated to think I was that needy, it would explain why I responded so strongly to Milla's friendship. I didn't know whether Milla had a boyfriend but suspected not as she hadn't mentioned anyone. Maybe we could go out together and try to meet some lads. It was time to close, so I shut the shop and headed out to buy some wine. I settled on a bottle of Pinot Grigiot, figuring that an Italian wine would be a good idea. Back home I couldn't settle. Despite the talk I'd given myself I was still nervous and excited so in the end I gave up and, at ten past six, I was knocking on Milla's door. She was wearing a cotton bathrobe that she was holding closed; her long wet hair was pulled in front of her left shoulder where she'd obviously been brushing it and she looked surprised to see me. "Amber, are you okay?" she asked. "Sorry, Milla, I got bored waiting. I'll come back when you're ready. Sorry." "Nonsense, come in!" she stepped back and held the door wide for me. "Thanks for inviting me to dinner. You're not about to go and put on some stunning cocktail dress, are you? I already feel bad for not having showered and changed from work!" "I just needed to get the smell of coffee off me and I don't own a cocktail dress, stunning or otherwise, so you're quite safe on that score." I entered and handed her the wine as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. She took the wine in one hand and put the other on my arm as I kissed her. As a result her bathrobe gaped open, revealing her breasts and one soft, dark nipple, her smooth, trim stomach and abdomen that curved down to her hairless pubis. Naked, her figure was even more stunning. Hastily she snatched the robe closed and turned away. "Oh God! I'm sorry about that," she apologised, "how embarrassing for both of us." "Hey, it was an accident," I consoled her, "and I'm not embarrassed." "Well I was; a bit anyway! I guess you've seen lots of naked women over the years." I wasn't sure what she meant. "I was looking at your drawings in the workshop when you were out serving that customer. You've got quite a lot of drawings of naked women and men." I recalled that I had left my portfolio in the workshop thinking that I might frame one or two of the still life drawings for sale. "Yes, one of the tutors was big into life drawing. She claimed that the human figure was a good way to learn to draw what we saw rather than what we expected to see. And Milla," she looked at me, "you really have nothing to be embarrassed about; you have a great body!" She smiled bashfully. "Thank you. I've never been admired by an artist before." She led me through to the sitting room. "Dinner will be another half hour yet. I hope you like lasagne," she said as we sat. Her robe gaped again but the fact that I could see her breast no longer seemed to worry her. "Ooo, yummy," I replied and she glanced down at her exposed breast and smiled. I, of course, went bright red at the implication of her glance. "I meant the lasagne, and you know it!" She began laughing. "You said I had a great body a moment ago, so I was just checking whether you were just speaking artistically or... something else." "Definitely artistically," I assured her, "Perhaps you should get some clothes on: you're making me feel overdressed." This slightly sexual banter with a girl was, well, odd. I didn't exactly dislike it but it was a little uncomfortable. "Well, if it's a problem, I'm sure I have another robe you could borrow," she replied mischievously. "You should have warned me that the dress code for this evening was 'semi-nude'," I retorted, keeping the banter going. Uncomfortable or not, I wasn't going to let her have the last word. "Why, would you still have come if I had?" she asked and though her tone was teasing, the question made me confused. I wanted to say, 'No, I wouldn't have come' but that wasn't true; of course I would have, to see her... "Go and get dressed you incorrigible exhibitionist!" I exclaimed to cover my uncertainty and, thankfully, she left but made no attempt to keep her robe closed and I couldn't help looking and admiring her body. As I sat there alone I wondered: how would I feel sitting semi-naked with Milla? Would I mind? Might I even like it? Tingles in my body signalled that there were bits of me that liked the idea of her naked body quite a lot. And what would Milla think of my disappointingly ordinary body? After a few minutes Milla returned, fully clothed in jeans and cream blouse that she had knotted above her waist, exposing her midriff. "Didn't want to cover up completely then?" I teased and to my surprise she looked a little embarrassed. "Hey, I'm sorry Milla, I was just teasing." She looked relieved and sat on the sofa next to me. "Anyway, it's your home; you have the right to wear, or not wear, whatever you please." There was a pause so I asked what I'd wondered earlier: "Milla, do you have a boyfriend?" "No, not at... um, no." "Like me then: not met Mister Right yet?" Milla was silent and I noticed her chewing her lip as if debating something in her head. "Amber," she said quietly, "there's never going to be a Mister Right for me." "Why, what's..." and I realized what she was trying to tell me and lots of things fell into place. I looked her in the eye and saw that she was terrified of my reply. I slipped my hand under hers and covered it with my other hand as she had mine at our first meeting. "You're a lesbian, aren't you?" I asked gently and she nodded. "I'm so sorry," I said, feeling guilty for being so insensitive with the boyfriend question. I squeezed her hand and shifted slightly on the sofa. She mistook what I said and my movement, thinking I was going to stand up. "Don't go!" she pleaded grabbing my arm with her other hand. "Why would I go?" "Well, because of what I just told you and that's what always seems to happen when I tell people. I didn't want to tell you but I felt I had to, to be honest with you. And now you probably think I was trying to seduce you." A tear rolled down her cheek. "So, Milla, my neighbour, my new friend and coffee artiste, just happens to be gay. So what? I was thinking this afternoon how much I liked you because you liked me as, well, just Amber. You were kind to me when you didn't even know me. I love being with you: you make me laugh, you're interested in what I say and you're fun to be with! And now you care enough about me and our relationship to tell me you're lesbian. What kind of close friend would I be if I were to walk out?" "You really mean that? You don't mind that I find girls attractive, er, sexually? You're not worried that I might look at you in that way?" "I'd probably be flattered if you did, with my boring body!" I laughed. "Listen: when I was at University Lisa, the girl in the room next to mine in Halls, was gay. She was a nice girl and we got on well. Apart from a few times when she had her girlfriend to stay and it got a bit noisy at antisocial hours. She did apologise afterwards though." That made Milla smile. "I'm guessing you don't have a girlfriend at the moment." "No," she shook her head sadly. "I've only ever had one person I'd call a girlfriend: Jenny Paige, we were at college together. It lasted two months, three weeks and six days and we slept together three times." "What happened?" I asked gently. "It, well, it was a first for both of us; I think we were both curious. For me it confirmed I was lesbian but for her... I guess she satisfied her curiosity. Afterwards she was in with this Christian group and she came to me and asked if I still thought I was gay. When I said I knew I was she offered to pray for me so that I 'might be released from sin' and that she forgave me for leading her astray. Hypocritical bitch: she was the one who suggested we try sleeping together!" I put my arm around her and commiserated. "Thank you," she said. There was something I felt I had to ask. "Milla, did you think I might be lesbian?" "I... I wondered, yes. Like, when you held my hand the way I'd held yours... and your drawings, of course." "What about them?" I asked, confused. "The way you draw women; there's a tenderness and detail there that isn't in your drawings of men. I thought it meant that you found women attractive and men not. Sorry, I guess my tin-pot psychoanalysis was way off." Was she way off? I did find the female body beautiful and attractive to look at, though not sexually, never that... surely not? Ah, but what about seeing Milla earlier? And then there was Jackie at school and how we liked to hug. We'd even kissed a few times but that was just to practise kissing, so that didn't count, even if it felt so nice and had made me all tingly. And I was naturally tactile -- I liked to touch and hug my friends. Not guys who were just friends, obviously, because they tended to get the wrong idea. I remembered Lisa at Uni: how had I felt when I heard Lisa and her girlfriend making love? Wasn't I a bit jealous, a bit 'I wish it was me'? Maybe, but it's hard not to be jealous of someone in the throes of a screaming orgasm when you're not! And I'd had orgasms with Max and a couple of other boyfriends; maybe not screaming ones, but still orgasms. No, I was straight and that's all there was to it. And anyway... Such a Little Thing Ch. 01 "A penny for your thoughts, Amber?" Milla's voice gently cut through the debate whirling in my head. "Sorry," I smiled, "I was thinking." Milla knelt on the floor in front of me and we held hands as she looked up into my face. "What were you thinking?" "I was thinking that the female body is very beautiful, that it's true I like looking at it and drawing and painting it and that I like to hug and hold hands. I'm also not gay, Milla, but I'm happy, very happy, that we've become friends, good friends, and I hope we will continue with that." "You're not lesbian because you like men... but perhaps you're bisexual," Milla suggested, a glimmer of hope in her face and voice. "Oh shit, Milla! Maybe I am a bit bi, maybe lots of people are bisexual, but I've never fancied a girl in that way." A rogue thought in my head said, 'Really? Never? Are you being completely honest here?' "Milla, I really want to be your friend, your close friend, best friends even. But I don't want to be like that girl at college, Jenny whatshername and use you as some kind of experiment in sexuality; I don't want to hurt you. Milla, I can't be your lover. I'm sorry." "I'm sorry too; I shouldn't try to make you something you're not, especially as you accept me as I am." She squeezed my hands and forced a smile. "And I'm glad we're still friends -- close friends?" "Definitely!" I agreed and she smiled. Milla stood up and her mischievous grin was back. "Oh, and you should be flattered," she said, pulling me to my feet, "because your body is not boring: I think you're very attractive -- beautiful actually. Come on, let's go and eat." We sat at the little kitchen table that she'd covered with a tablecloth. There was a single carnation in a little vase and even a candle. She served bread with balsamic vinegar and olive oil to dip into as a starter. The lasagne was delicious, with salad on the side. She talked about learning to cook mainly from her grandparents, Nonna and Nonno as she called them. I lamented my failure to learn much culinary competence. Finally, for pudding she brought out two small coffee cups filled with a mocha mousse. "Is this homemade as well?" I asked and she nodded. The mousse was absolutely divine. I felt a drop fall on my chin and before I could react she reached over and wiped it off with her finger which she then put to her lips to clean off. It was an astonishingly intimate moment. At the end I took the wine bottle, already nearly half empty, and topped up our glasses before raising mine. "To Milla, my close friend, coffee artiste and fantastic cook!" I toasted her. "That was a fantastic meal, thank you." "My pleasure, Amber. And you've just committed yourself to free coffee, you realize?" "I know; so I owe you for free coffee and for your help this afternoon. You mentioned something you wanted to talk to me about?" "So can I ask for two things?" "Milla, after that meal you can ask whatever you want!" "Really?" she asked with a rascally glint in her eye and I suddenly wondered what she might have in mind. "No, I'll just stick with the two -- for now anyway! Come with me." I stood and had to lean on the table. "I think the wine has affected my legs," I giggled. I was a little drunk or at least tipsy. Milla put her arm around to steady me and we grabbed our glasses and the wine bottle before she me helped me through to the sitting room where we flopped down onto the two-seater sofa. Milla reached under the coffee table and pulled out a folder from which she withdrew a sheaf of photographs. "The first thing was to get some of these framed," she explained as she spread the two dozen or so photos over the table. We both sat forward looking at the mainly black and white photos. "They're of Nonno when he was younger, Nonna too before she died, some in Italy and others, like this, from when the Caffè first opened. I wanted to get some of them framed and put them up in the Caffè. I think they'd look good, and Nonno would like it too I think." "That's a lovely idea and some of these photos are really good: very atmospheric." We went through them, judging the best and thinking of ideas, such as multiple smaller photos in a single frame. All the time I was conscious of how close together we were on the small sofa; the feeling of our thighs in contact and how our arms would brush as we moved. Eventually we agreed on five frames holding a total of eleven photos. "We can look at frames and mounts tomorrow and see what styles you like," I told her as I poured the last of the wine into our empty glasses. "Okay. Are you going to be there at four o'clock when I close?" I looked at her, confused. "Why wouldn't I be?" "Well, according to the opening times on your window, you're closed tomorrow -- it's Wednesday, remember? I think the wine's affecting your brain!" "I'd forgotten; you know my shop hours better than me! But you're not closed, are you? We can't just go and do stuff?" I was disappointed. Milla leant over and kissed my cheek. "You know, I think that's the loveliest thing ever: you really want to spend time with me. Unfortunately, the Caffè is open as usual tomorrow." "I'll just have to come and haunt Caffè Carluccio all day. Hey, maybe I could help out: I still owe you. I've always wanted to play with one of those frothy milk coffee machine thingies." "Oh no: hands off my espresso machine! Anyway, after seeing your drawings I've already decided how you can pay me back. I want you to do a drawing of me like those ones I saw." "What, naked?" I replied in surprise. "Hmm, I hadn't planned that, but hell yes, why not? Would you?" she asked excitedly. "I think the wine's affecting your brain! But, I did say you could ask anything, so I have to agree and, as I said before, you do have a great body, so it will be my pleasure. You're such an exhi... exhibitionist, Milla!" She grinned. "If you say so! Have you never stripped in front of others?" "Only with boyfriends -- and, and in the showers at school, of course..." "Perhaps you should try it one day." "P'rhaps you should be a -- a naturist!" I retorted. "Hey, that's not a bad idea. I'd want a close friend to come with me though." She nudged me in the ribs, "Maybe next time you owe me, that'll be what I'll ask for: us together at a naturist place!" I shook my head. "Such a -- a -- encourageable exhibitionist!" I said and Milla burst out laughing. "What?" I asked, confused. "Amber, I do believe you're drunk!" she went to stand, swayed and flopped back, half landing on me. I reached out to support her and found my hand cupping her boob. Our eyes met and my mouth went dry; suddenly I didn't feel in the least bit drunk. I was very aware of the beautiful girl resting on my lap, her gorgeous eyes and sleek, long hair... and above all the soft, warm mound of her breast enclosed by my hand. I knew I ought to take my hand away and yet I didn't want to. I saw her lick her lips; perhaps she wanted to kiss... No, I mustn't let her get the wrong idea. "Milla, I do believe we're both drunk," I said, helping her to sit back up and, far too reluctantly, taking my hand from her. "Look, it's getting late and you at least have to work tomorrow. Leave the washing up and get to bed; I'll come over and wash up tomorrow." "You could sleep here Amber, if that would be easier," she suggested shyly. I smiled, "No, I'd better not. Anyway, it isn't far to get home." I managed to stand and even helped Milla up. I felt a lot less tipsy that a few minutes ago. We hugged and said goodnight and I made my way home. CHAPTER 4 -- Dreams and Decisions I walked into the coffee shop and there was Milla at the coffee machine, her back to me. As I neared the counter I realized she was naked, save for her apron. He ponytail brushed the bare skin of her back while further down the beautiful smooth flesh of her perfect arse cheeks was revealed. She turned to me and smiled that wonderful warm smile that she always gave when she saw me. The hard points of her nipples were visible through the apron fabric. She reached behind and pulled the knot of the apron strings undone before lifting the apron over her head and dropping it to the floor. She stood there naked before me and my eyes drank in the sight and I felt a delicious tingling in my pussy. "Amber, darling," she purred as she moved round from behind the counter, "it's so nice that you've become an exhibitionist too!" I looked down to see that I too was naked. I felt the air on my skin and my nipples hardened almost painfully. I took a step towards my gorgeous, sexy friend and could feel that my pussy had become a sopping, dripping mess. I plunged my fingers between those hot, swollen lower lips and raised them, dripping and glistening with my sex juices. Before I could taste them, however, Milla had grabbed my hand. "Oh no, Amber, you must share like a close friend should!" and she took my fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean as she sighed, "Mmmm." She pulled my fingers from her mouth and then, still holding my hand, guided it down. My fingers brushed her hairless mound and I knew what she wanted, what I wanted too. I felt the top of her slit, the wetness of her swollen, protruding inner labia... then it happened, my fingers slipped inside my beautiful Milla, making her gasp. She was tight but running with her love juices. My fingers withdrew, lifting up and up to my mouth so I could taste her... I woke with a start, disorientated and confused. It was still dark but the moon was bright outside, the silver light streaming through the open curtains. I was naked and uncovered in bed, my right hand between my legs. I sat up and saw the soft sheen of sweat covering my body made my skin lambent in the moonlight. I opened my legs and looked down to see a very large dark patch: I had cum in my sleep. That dream! It had seemed so real. I lay back and raised my hand and saw my juices glistening silver on my fingers. As yesterday I couldn't resist sucking them, enjoying the rich savouriness. In the dream and I had wanted to taste Milla so very much... Was this all just my subconscious playing 'what if?' games? I did find Milla beautiful, I accepted that. I liked her company; that was fine too. I had seen her close to naked yesterday and she had joked about my undressing too, so that was all fuel for my overactive imagination. Part of me said that us naked together wasn't fine, wasn't right but another part liked the idea immensely. Certainly in my dream I had loved it. And then in the dream: my God! I remembered my fingers in her pussy. I had no idea what it would really feel like but in the dream it had been wonderful. And what would she taste like? And what the fucking hell was going on with me? Okay, time to get a grip. I began making a list in my head. One: I had broken up with my boyfriend, been thrown out of University and was now running a shop in a small town where I knew nobody. Two: I had met a girl and we had really clicked as friends -- we got on brilliantly and really liked each other. Three: She just happens to be stunningly beautiful and I, as an artist, appreciate beauty in women. Four: Point three may not be completely honest -- my appreciation may very well be more than just artistic! Five: My lovely new friend happens to be lesbian and seems to fancy me. Actually, there really isn't any 'seems' about it. Six: I just had a massive orgasm dreaming about fingering my friend's pussy. Okay, so I should probably start wearing an 'Officially Bi-Curious' badge because I know that I will not stop wondering about this anytime soon. Ah, but then there's another point. Seven: Milla was badly hurt by a curious girl who decided she wasn't that curious after all. I cannot, I will not do that to her. So I have my answer, though it's not an easy one: curb my curiosity and be a good friend to Milla. Sleep was a long time coming. CHAPTER 5 -- A Pub Run and Shared Cake I walked into the Caffè at just after eight o'clock in the morning, still tired but unable to stay in bed any longer. My shower had helped a bit but the real fix would be coffee. I was surprised how busy it was but realised that this was the morning commuter rush with half a dozen people queued at the counter. Milla, however, seemed to be coping effortlessly and flashed me a happy smile as soon as she saw me. There were several tables with dirty cups and plates so I decided to help out by clearing them. As I brought them round behind the counter she nodded towards the dishwasher and I loaded them in before grabbing the cleaning spray and cloth I spotted beside the sink. By the time I had finished wiping down the tables and was back behind the counter rinsing out the cloth, Milla was serving the last customer. She came up behind me as I turned the tap off and put an arm across my back, her fingers on my waist. "Thanks, Amber, but you really didn't need to do that." "I know, but I wanted to help out. That was a lovely meal last night, thank you. How's your head this morning?" I asked, smiling. "Not too bad, considering!" she laughed. I straightened up and turned to her. She reached and brushed hair from my face, her touch making me shiver slightly. "You don't look a hundred per cent, Amber; are you alright?" Concern clouded her face. I reached up to hold her hand. "I'm alright; I just didn't sleep very well, that's all. It was a restless night: dreams and stuff." "My poor love! It... it wasn't me, what I told you, that upset you was it?" she asked. "You didn't upset me at all, Milla," I reassured her. No, it's me, I thought, remembering my dream. "I guess the alcohol upset my sleep pattern." She nodded and we agreed that we'd do the washing up later together. "That way you can stay here with me!" she said, and I liked that idea. "Coffee, bella Ambra? "Yes to the coffee, but what is bella Ambra?" "It means 'beautiful Amber' in Italian of course," she replied happily as she took milk from the fridge. I watched her as she made the coffee. "Thank you. It's not true but you're very sweet." She looked me in the eye. "It's true to me," she said simply, making my stomach flip. I was sure that last night's decision was right, but my God it was hard at moments like this. "Er, do you want to go for a run this evening?" I asked to change the subject. "It doesn't have to be a long run." "How far do you normally run?" "Well, five or six kilometres for a shorter run, sort of half an hour to forty-five minutes." "Wow, that's a short run? What's a long run, for goodness sake?" "The furthest I've ever run was ten miles, about sixteen kilometers, but that did nearly kill me!" I laughed. "Eight to ten kilometres would be a long run normally." "Can we do a really short run tonight, please?" begged Milla. "Of course! How about twenty minutes?" she nodded. "Okay, so about, say, one-and-a-half to two miles at a gentle pace. Know any pubs about two miles away?" She grinned. "I like your running plans! Let me think... there's the White Bear, no, too far... The Crown and also The Old Boar, both in the town centre so they're too close... I know, The Maid and Dragon. If we go round via West Road and Pond Street, that should be about two miles. And we can come back the short way in case my legs drop off!" "Your legs look in pretty good shape to me!" I tell her. "Do they serve food there?" She nods. "Good: dinner at the pub, my treat. And no arguments," I insist when she tries to protest. The day passed easily. I helped with clearing and cleaning tables and Milla supplied me coffee on demand. I noticed when she brushed past me, the little touches and hugs she gave and I found myself doing the same until I realized that this wasn't fair on her: I was offering her something I wouldn't go through with. After the Caffè closed we sorted the washing up in Milla's kitchen then went to my shop and decided on the frames and mounts for Milla's photographs. Finally, just before seven o'clock we met on the pavement outside for our run. As soon as she saw me Milla gave a soft whistle. "Look at you, Miss Lycra!" I was wearing knee length leggings and a short running vest and, yes, they were figure hugging but that was the point: no rubbing and chaffing. "Isn't that outfit a bit exhibitionist? Not that I'm complaining." "It's what I normally wear for running," I replied defensively, "and you're not exactly over-dressed," I told her as I took in her sports bra top and shorts that left her midriff and long legs wonderfully visible. "Yea, but I'm the 'encourageable exhibitionist', you told me so last night: you should be applauding my choice of clothes!" "Oh, I am, don't worry about that," I bantered back as I mimed clapping. "Although, aren't you worried that you'll get a lot of male attention dressed like that?" "Oh, if that happens I'll just lean across and give you a big snog; that should discourage them!" Ow! Not fair! Not fair! Not fair! I thought, as the image of us kissing seared into my brain. What were comments like that going to do to my dreams? "Do I get any say in the matter?" I asked weakly. "Hmm, maybe," she replied, studying me carefully. I think she could see, or at least guess, the effect her comment had on me. I took a deep breath. "Come on, shall we run? You ought lead to set the pace and you know where we're going! Remember to start gently to warm up." "Okay, but I was hoping I'd be behind you," she pouted. "Why's that?" I asked suspiciously. "Four words: your bum, those leggings!" she laughed and I couldn't help smiling. "Are you ever going to stop flirting with me?" I asked, semi-seriously. "Um, probably not," she admitted. "Oh Amber, do you know how wonderful it is that I can just be myself with you? Knowing that you know I'm gay but you still want to be my friend. Do you mind about the flirting, really?" I smiled. "I quite like it -- it's fun. It's just, well, I don't want to say or do anything that will, you know, give you the wrong idea or lead you on." "Amber, you told me last night and I really accept that you're straight. Even if I wish you weren't," she said earnestly, "I accept that you are. If I do or say something that makes you uncomfortable, then just tell your crazy dyke friend to back off. Okay?" I smiled and nodded then glanced around. Seeing no one about, I stepped over to her and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad we're friends. Shall we get going?" "Me too," she replied and she turned and began jogging gently. We didn't talk much to begin with as our breathing deepened and I was glad: my thoughts needed time to settle. I could ask her not to flirt, not to touch and not to comment on her attraction to me but she had just told me how much she liked that freedom in our friendship. And I didn't want her to stop, not really. The problem was my response. She said she accepted I was straight; the trouble was I was struggling to accept that. I didn't know exactly how far I'd go with Milla but it was too damn far not to then go all the way and I couldn't commit to that. Milla had picked up the pace a little and was now breathing quite heavily, even at what I thought a relatively easy jog. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I'm -- fine. -- Hey, -- how come -- you're not -- puffing like -- me?" "Practise, I guess. I run a lot more than you." "Actually -- I haven't run -- at all -- for about -- a year." "Milla, you mad woman!" I exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell me? We could have picked a shorter run." "Didn't want -- you to think -- I was -- a lazy -- blob." "Milla! If blobs looked like you the Internet would be full of blob porn sites!" Such a Little Thing Ch. 01 "Don't -- make -- me -- laugh! -- Can't -- run -- and -- breathe -- and -- laugh." "I wonder what lesbian blob porn would be like?" I wondered and that brought Milla to a halt, doubled over breathlessly laughing. Eventually, she caught her breath. "You made me stop running! I was doing well till you made me laugh. Blob porn! Would you watch lesbian blob porn?" "Well, the blobs would look like you, so... I might take a peek. Just out of curiosity, you understand." She looked at me, a gentle smile on her lips. "Do you know Amber, I think I do understand." I smiled back. "Right, shall we run some more? But slow enough that we can talk, okay?" Milla nodded and we set off. I asked her about where we were and what we saw on the route, trying to learn some landmarks but also keeping her talking so she didn't run too fast. Before too long she pointed to The Maid and Dragon pub, three or four hundred metres down a straight stretch of road. I noticed Milla had speeded up so I matched her only to have her speed up more. I smiled and wondered if she wanted a race. Suddenly she shot forward. "Last one there -- buys the drinks!" she called as she lengthened her stride further. She may not be good at distance but this girl could sprint! I put my head down and went for it, hoping that she'd kicked too early and would tire. Sure enough, I was soon beginning to gain. With fifty metres to go I was just behind her but had no spare breath to say anything. I began to edge past but just before I made it onto the pub forecourt Milla's long strides overtook me again. She immediately stumbled to a halt, her breath coming in huge, ragged gasps and she bent forward. I came up behind her and put my arm around her waist to guide her to a bench outside the pub entrance. We sat, side by side, both breathing heavily, as I rubbed her back gently. "You beat me: well done," I told her. "Thanks," she said and rested her head into my shoulder. I worried what we must look like to passers-by but decided that perhaps I didn't care that much; I was looking after my friend. It was still warm, so we went into the beer garden. I bought the first round, which were mineral waters for both of us after the run. We moved onto wine with our meal, the food being simple but well-cooked pub fare. "Milla, can I ask you something?" she nodded as she chewed. "After, er, Jenny, did you not try and meet other girls?" She thought for a moment as she swallowed her food. "After Jenny I guess I was very hurt, so that stopped me for a long time even thinking about another relationship. After that, well, it may surprise you but the town doesn't have a bustling gay scene and there's quite a lot of prejudice about. As I told you, I lost a few friends at college when I told them I was gay so I've kept it hidden since then." "So you've never had another girlfriend?" "Not exactly, no. I've had a few holiday romances when I've been away. I think the main reason though is Nonno and my parents. They have no idea that I'm gay and I don't think I could tell them." "What, never?" "Well, maybe if I met the right woman and she and I wanted to be together, marry even. Maybe I could then, if she was with me." I was tempted to say something flippant like 'You'd look good in a wedding dress' but the sadness in her beautiful, amber ringed brown eyes stopped me. "You, you deserve someone like that," I told her. Why did I wish so much that it could be me? Of course it couldn't, but I still wished it. We shared a pudding, a large slice of chocolate fudge cake. We were in a secluded part of the beer garden but I was still taken aback to find Milla holding out a piece of cake on her fork for me to eat. I hesitated, unsure but she just smiled and said, "Go on, for me." So I opened my mouth and she fed me! I looked at her as I chewed but she just looked down at the cake and opened her mouth slightly and nodded. I couldn't believe I was doing it but did as she wanted: l cut off a piece and fed her in the same way. That's how we ate the whole pudding, feeding each other a piece at a time, and by the end of it we were giggling like children. It was wonderful. After I settled the bill we began our walk home as the evening darkened towards night. It was warm and humid, which didn't bode well for sleeping. We walked side by side so close that our arms often touched. I felt her fingers caress the back of my hand and looked down to see her take my hand. It felt strange, walking hand in hand like little schoolgirls; strange but nice. We walked round to the back entrances of the shops: it was time for us to part. We stood facing each other, still holding hands. "Night night, Amber. Thanks for the meal and the run. Oh, and for letting me win!" "Goodnight to you too, Milla, and thanks for a lovely evening. But I didn't let you win; you beat me, fair and square." We stood together for a moment, me looking up at her. She moved forward to kiss my lips and I oh so nearly let her but I turned at the last minute so we kissed each other's cheeks. It was the right thing to do, I told myself. Such a Little Thing Ch. 02 This is part two of a lesbian romance. I've split the story into three parts to keep each one a reasonable length but it is a continuous story so you'll need to read part one first, which can be found here. Many thanks must go to EarthlyRose for her help editing this story. In addition, gratitude and thanks also to Winterreisser for his further editorial comments and suggestions. If you enjoy this story please rate and leave a comment. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ CHAPTER 6 -- Still Looking for Mr Right The weeks passed and we settled into each other's lives. My shop was doing well; Uncle Graham came to visit and check over the books (the keeping of which was a Sunday afternoon chore I detested with a passion) and declared that I was doing better than predicted. That did allow me to persuade him to upgrade the shop PC so the book keeping wasn't quite so tedious. I took him for a coffee next door where Milla was at a table in the corner. I called across, "Hi Milla, this is my Uncle Graham who owns the shop." I turned to Uncle Graham, "And this is Milla, my very close friend and maker of exquisite coffee." Milla came up behind me and, placing one hand affectionately on my shoulder, shook Graham's hand. I barely noticed Milla's hand but, looking back, I realize now that Uncle Graham didn't miss it; at the time he simply looked intently at the two of us. "Hello, Milla, love," said Uncle Graham. "I ought t' thank thee for helping our Amber out, with that oval glass and the like, and being such a right good neighbour and friend to her." "Thank you, Mr, um, Uncle Graham. Amber has spoken about me then?" "Aye. She don't email or phone as often as she might, but I reckon your name crops up in all of 'em." He and Milla smiled at my flaming cheeks. Not surprisingly he was completely charmed by Milla and seemed genuinely pleased that she and I were such good friends. He was also impressed with the leaflets for 'In the Frame' that were on the counter with their discount voucher. "I wish some of t' other shop managers would show t' same initiative as thee, Amber," he praised, "I'd be fair minted by now!" Milla overheard and gave me a big smile and two thumbs up. I would often spend most of every Wednesday in the Caffè helping out and just being with Milla. On one occasion I was wiping down tables when I heard a thickly accented voice behind me. "Hey, Camilla! Quando abbiamo impieghiamo la nuova ragazza?" I turned to see an old man in a worn, brown jacket, grey trousers and white shirt open at the collar, and whom, despite being much older, I recognised from the photographs as Nonno Carluccio. Although not understanding a word he'd said, I held out my hand to shake as Milla hurried over to introduce us. "Nonno, lei non è un dipendente; she's not an employee. This is Amber; she runs the framing shop next door and she did the framing of all the photographs." She turned to me, "Nonno asked, 'When did we employ the new girl?'" she explained. I nodded. "Pleased to meet you, Nonno Carluccio," I said as we shook hands. "I'm just helping Milla out as my shop's shut today." I explained. "And for this helping she pay you?" he asked. "Of course not; she's my best and closest friend and we help each other out from time to time." He nodded and thanked me before walking slowly over to behind the counter where he proceeded to inspect everything. Milla looked at me, her eyes shining. "Amber, that was so sweet to call me your 'best and closest friend' and the way you called him Nonno too." "It just sort of slipped out." "If Nonno wasn't here I'd give you such a big hug!" as she surreptitiously took my hand and squeezed it. Milla passed the inspection as, apparently, did I along with the photos I'd framed. Milla told me Nonno had declared me "A very nice young lady," but probably in Italian -- or with an Italian accent at least. Though there was no hug that day, there was generally a great deal of physical contact between us: Milla would link her arm through mine when we walked, would touch or hold my hand or arm when we were close and talked, put her hand on my hip or waist as she slipped past me. Initially I was a bit uncomfortable with this and I didn't reciprocate but I gradually found myself doing the same with her. And following an afternoon bent over the workbench it was wonderful to feel Milla's fingers on my neck and shoulders kneading away the ache and stiffness and I was always happy to repay in kind. I suppose I should mention the dreams. They weren't every night but the warm and humid summer nights that year often made my sleeping restless and so I would wake in the dark, the memory of a dream still vivid. Milla featured frequently: kissing her; us naked in the Caffè or in my workshop or in her flat; touching each other; massages that went further... There was one I struggled to remember, but white dresses were involved so I suspect it was something to do with a wedding. I never again came in my sleep but I was usually very wet afterwards and my fingers and little vibe got lots of use relieving me. I absolutely needed that release; without it I'm quite sure that the temptation to do something inappropriate with Milla and leading her on would have been too great. Ah yes, then there was my one date. It was in mid-August with a young guy, Kieron, who had brought in several of his watercolour pictures for framing over a number of days. He was friendly and good looking and, as I handed him his third completed frame, he asked me out. I hesitated for a moment and, though I wasn't really attracted to him, agreed to go; I'd been single for months, I reasoned, so I needed to get out there again. At seven o'clock the following Saturday night, our agreed time, Kieron picked me up in his little Ford Whatever car (it was red, anyway, and quite old). My first warning should have been when we drove into the car park of The Maid and Dragon pub. The evening Milla and I had spent there had been wonderful, only becoming more magical in my memory, so it was going to be hard for this date to match that. He escorted me into the pub where he'd booked a table in the restaurant area. We sat and chatted before the waiter arrived, small talk about ourselves: how I came to be running the shop (an abridged and less embarrassing version), his hobby of watercolour painting. The waiter came and we ordered. We continued talking but it became more and more stilted and uncomfortable. I kept imagining what it would be like with Milla; the easy conversation, the laughter, our legs brushing under the table, the warmth of her hand on mine that could still burn right through me. We ate our food but we didn't offer each other tasters from our own plates. I drank but the alcohol numbed rather than relaxed me. In the end, I found myself declining dessert and apologising. "I'm sorry Kieron. You're a really nice guy but this isn't going to work." "You mentioned splitting up with someone. Are you still, like, not over him?" he asked, anxiously. I hesitated, Milla's face in my mind's eye. "I... well sort of. There is someone and I'm definitely not over them." I told him. "I don't know if I ever will be." I added to myself. He was gallant to the last: he insisted on paying, taking me home and then, finally, he even thanked me for the evening. All I could do was to apologise for being such crap company. I had barely closed my door when there was a soft knocking and I opened it to find Milla there. She came in and I made us some hot chocolate. "Are you alright, Amber? You looked sad as you came back. Was your date okay?" "Let's put it this way: he was definitely not Mr Right." I tried to laugh. "I'm not sure that there is a Mr Right anymore," I muttered. It was mainly frustration talking but maybe subconsciously I meant more. Whatever it was, there was no mistaking the hopeful gleam that twinkled in Milla's eye when she heard it. CHAPTER 7 -- 'She's not my girlfriend!' It was now late-August and I had just finished serving a customer. As she left the shop, the postman came in and handed me several letters. "Thanks Joe," I said, looking through the boring bills and circulars. There were two more interesting letters at the back but when I looked they were for Milla, one with an Italian stamp. "Hang on, Joe, these letters are for Milla." He came over and took them. "Ah yes, they'll be her birthday cards." "They're a bit early aren't they? Her birthday's next week." "I don't think so; it's probably tomorrow or Saturday." He saw the look of concern on my face. "What's the matter? Did you forget your girlfriend's birthday? And it's her quarter century too." "She's not my girlfriend," I replied automatically, checking the calendar on my phone. "Yeah, right, if you say so," he said sarcastically. "See you tomorrow," and left the shop. I found the calendar entry: Such a Little Thing Ch. 02 "Thank you for such a lovely evening Amber, and for my beautiful present. I don't think I ever want to take it off." "I'm really happy you liked it, Milla." We were almost home when Milla gave a deep sigh. "I don't want this evening to end so soon. Can I ask you to do something Amber?" "Certainly, especially as it's your birthday." "I asked before but it never happened: will you draw me, wearing this pendant? This evening?" "I did promise before, didn't I? Yes, of course I will." "I mean, um, wearing only this pendent." I swallowed hard and nodded; I had more than half expected her to say that. "I'll need to go and get my sketchpad and stuff and I ought to change." "Don't worry about changing, just grab your art stuff and come up to me. Okay?" Ten minutes later I knocked on her door; paper, pencils and drawing pastels in hand. Milla opened the door in her bathrobe but made no attempt to keep it closed. The pendent hung down to the start of her cleavage. She was stunningly sexy and I felt my body respond as it had in my dreams. "Hi," I managed to say, my heart thumping. We went through to the sitting room where Milla had thrown a cream sheet over the sofa and moved the coffee table aside to place the armchair facing the sofa. She let the bathrobe fall from her and she lay back on the sofa, one arm under her head, as I simply gazed at her. The setting sunlight bathed her body making it glow like gold, the amber pendant a little shining, fiery ember against her skin. Mesmerised by the sight of her I moved the armchair slightly to make a better angle and to avoid blocking the light from the window. I sat, opened my sketchpad and began to draw, lightly outlining her form. I was entranced. "You are so fucking beautiful!" I sighed and Milla smiled. I had never drawn with such utter focus before as I now switched to the pastels. Desperate to capture her beauty at this instant I worked quickly but my line was sure and confident. She was so much part of my life I'm certain I could have drawn her perfectly from memory. After her beautiful face and the fall of her hair across her shoulder, my hand brought the swell of her breasts to life on the page, the hard nubs of her nipples, then the faint line of the pendant's chain and the bright spark of amber resting where the swell of her breast began. I continued with the smooth curve of her hips, the dark dimple of her belly button, her slim, shapely thighs and legs, the hairless mound of her pubis and the top of the soft cleft of her pussy just visible... Finally I added my signature -- just 'Amber' in dark pencil in the corner -- and sat back, looking at the drawing in front of me. I knew I had drawn it but the sight of it surprised me. If my other drawings of women had shown a love and affection, then this showed a raging passion bordering on worship of this beautiful woman. "Can I see it?" Milla asked, her hand caressing my thigh at the same time. Tentatively I held it up for her. "Wow, that's just ... amazing; Amber, you make me look like a goddess! I love it so much! You're such a brilliant artist, thank you." Putting the picture carefully to one side, she came over and sat on my lap and, putting her arms around me, gave me a big hug. My arms went round her, and the feel of her, naked against me turned me on immensely. I could feel my nipples harden and my pussy start to tingle and moisten in instant response. Milla noticed the hard bulge of my nipple and twisted to check the other. She smiled. "Hmm is having me naked in your arms turning you on, Amber?" she teased. It was too much, "I can't take it anymore!" I sobbed. Tears started and I broke down, crying uncontrollably. "Oh Milla," I wailed, "I'm sorry!" She put a hand to my cheek. "What is it my precious one?" she asked. "I didn't mean to upset you." "No, it's me." I gasped breaths, trying to regain control. She stroked my hair, waiting for me to calm. "It's not you, Milla, it's me. I'm so screwed up." "You? What about?" she asked gently. "About us!" Milla looked worried. "I, I love you." "And I love you too. What is it Amber?" "No, not just 'you're my friend' I love you... I, I think I want to, to be with you, to, you know, to be your girlfriend, to make love... to have sex with you Milla! I've been dreaming about it for weeks!" I was almost shouting. "Really?" Milla asked in surprise. "Yes, really. At least, I want to try making love to you, But that's the problem," tears were flowing again, "I can't be like your first girlfriend. I can't and I won't make you my bi-curious experiment!" "Amber, I love you with all my heart. The first time I met you was, like, ka-pow! And you were so friendly, and you've accepted me as I am. I'm so sorry, I didn't realize; my flirting has been really hard on you, hasn't it?" "A bit, at times." I nodded, adding, "There were so many times when I just wanted to let you kiss me on the mouth, or to lean over and kiss you, or press my bum back against you when you squeeze past me in the Caffè..." "I didn't know. Oh Amber my darling! I didn't mean to but I put you in an impossible position, didn't I?" She paused and thought for a moment. "Amber, would you come to bed with me? We can just kiss and cuddle. We'd both enjoy that." I nodded. "Oh I would but... oh Milla, if I were in bed with you I'm sure that I want to do more than just cuddle and kiss, I'd want to go further; the dreams I've had... but then, if it didn't work out..." "Then we'd know you weren't bi or lesbian and I would stop flirting with you. It wouldn't stop me being your friend any more than my being gay stopped you being my friend. I can't let you carry on the way you are or you could end up hating me. I, we, need to take a chance and find out the truth. What do you think?" I thought and I remembered Liesel Kaufmann. "The woman in the jewellery shop, where I bought your pendant, she comes into the Caffè sometimes apparently. She wishes you a happy birthday, by the way," I chuckled at my need to tell her that. "Anyway, she was also the second person who thought we were a couple already. I told her we weren't and she said, 'Well, perhaps you should be.' She also gave me another piece of advice: to listen to my heart and not just my head." "And what does your heart say?" Milla whispered. I reached round behind her head, pulling her gently down. Our lips met softly, pressing gently together. Oh, it felt so good and I opened my mouth slightly. Milla gave a slight sigh as the tip of my tongue caressed her top lip. Her mouth now opened too and I slid my tongue between her lips till it met her tongue. The kiss deepened as we opened to each other. My heart exalted; this was what it wanted: Milla, my beautiful, perfect friend. Slightly breathlessly we finally broke apart. She was radiantly happy till she noticed my tears. "Amber..." she began, her voice worried. "No, no, my darling: they're happy, joyful tears! That was just so wonderful!" I laughed. "Can we... " I hesitated, suddenly shy. "Can we go to bed?" I whispered. She stood and took my hand and led me through the darkening room to her bedroom. My heart was beating hard and quick with excited anticipation. She helped me undress; my fingers, so confident and sure as I drew her, now made trembling and inept. Naked, we lay down on the bed together. "Whatever you want to do, my darling Amber: that much and no further, I promise." "I think I want to go a long way," I assured her. "I want us to be lovers, for tonight at least." She smiled and we kissed again, my hands caressing her soft skin. Part of my brain panicked: 'Oh God! I'm naked in bed and making out with another woman, what's got into me?' and for a moment I froze. Then I though, yes, this is what I choose: to accept my sexuality, whatever that is, and to express my love for Milla physically, fully and completely, if only for this one night. My hand moved to cup her breast, soft and firm, the hard nipple pressing into my palm as I gently squeezed. Her hand found my breast too, her thumb circling the nipple and rubbing it. We were both moaning and sighing into our kiss. I put my arm around her and rolled so Milla was lying on top of me. I loved the feel of her weight on me, her naked body pressing down on mine. My hands travelled down to grasp both cheeks of her lovely arse before pulling her tight against me; our legs interlocked and our pussies pressed into each other's thighs. I could feel my labia, hot and wet against her skin, even as hers were against mine. Milla arched her back, grinding against me and making her nipples sway, brushing back and forth over my boobs. "Mmm that feels so good," Milla purred. I steadied one swaying breast with a hand before raising my head and tracing my tongue around her nipple. Then I began to suck it and nibble it. The feel of it in my mouth, my lips on my friend's breast, was fantastic. I began giving her other boob the same treatment. "Milla," I gasped, releasing her nipple, "I want to touch and kiss and taste every part of you my darling." "Good, because I want to do the same to you!" and with that she slid back to kneel between my legs. She bent forward, placed her hands on either side of my shoulders and bent to kiss me. She kissed my lips and cheeks and chin. She ran her tongue along the line of my jaw and began nibbling and sucking my earlobe before moving down to my neck. I had never felt as loved as I did then, nor so hot and wet as her little licks and kisses were joined by gentle nips with her teeth. After my neck her tongue trailed wetly down my sternum, between my breasts. These now received the same loving attention. "Oh God, Milla, I feel like I could cum right now!" I gasped, my hand reaching down to my pussy. She intercepted my hand. "Be patient and enjoy it; your Milla's not ready for you to cum just yet," she teased. Her mouth moved onto kissing and licking my tummy and the imminent orgasm receded a little. Before very long, however, I felt her move backwards and her hands rested on my hips. I could feel her hot breath on my mound as this now received the kiss-lick-nip treatment, making me moan and cry out. Her lips brushed my labia and I couldn't help my lips bucking at the intensity of the feeling. There was a pause and then her mouth closed over my pussy. Her tongue swirled over it and then slid inside; dipping between my inner lips as she French kissed my pussy. It felt exquisite. "Oh yes!" I cried, "My best friend has her tongue up my cunt and I fucking love it!" I wanted her, and that small, still-nervous part of me, to understand how much my body was enjoying this. I felt her fingers enter me as her mouth moved up to suck and lap at the hood of my clitoris. Her fingers slid deep and began to pump gently. When the tip of her tongue touched the clit itself I finally came, the release and pleasure crashing through me as I gave a long cry of orgasmic joy. She crawled up to lie beside me as I came back to earth. "I've wanted to do that to you since the day you walked into the Caffè and asked for your first skinny latte. You are so gorgeous." We kissed deeply and I relished the taste of myself on her mouth. "I am so going to do that to you when my legs start working again!" I told her before licking my wetness from her chin. She laughed. "You don't mind the taste of your pussy then?" she observed. "Hell, no: I like it. That's why I so want to taste yours." I rolled her onto her back, me on top this time. I knelt, straddling her hips. "Now, where to start?" I wondered aloud as I took the piece of amber that has slipped on to the bed by her neck and placed it in the centre of her chest. I bent forward and nuzzled into her neck, kissing then licking and biting. When I encountered the chain of the pendant I traced my tongue along it then back up to the other side of her neck. I moved down to give some attention to her breasts as my hand went down to her pussy. As I kissed her boobs my fingers delighted in her smooth hairlessness, trailing over the soft skin. As they moved across her pussy I could feel her lips were swollen, very warm and wet. I traced them with my finger. "Ooooh, that's nice: don't stop!" Milla begged and so I continued. However, I was becoming impatient to taste her for the first time. My fingers continued their caresses as I shimmied down and knelt between her knees. I gazed at her sex and saw her pussy was open, the lips deep red against her olive skin. Nervously I bent forward, inhaling her scent. It was lighter than mine, not so musky but it seemed perfect. I moved my hand and edged closer. I felt this was a moment of destiny, that if I did this, if I enjoyed this, I could no longer call myself straight. I glanced up, directly into Milla's loving eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips very red with her arousal, yet in her love she understood my hesitation and whispered, "Only if you want to, Amber." And it became easy, my lips covering her labia and my tongue tasting her. How could I not want this with someone I loved and who loved me so totally? Perhaps it was simply the perfect taste, perhaps it was just that it was because the taste of her; I hadn't expect her to taste quite like me but I never dreamt it could be so good! And more than the taste was the feeling of her opening herself to me, my mouth and tongue exploring her most intimate places, my fingers entering her. Her vaginal walls were tight, smooth, hot and wet. I slipped first one, then two then a third inside her, easing them back and forth as my thumb pressed her hard little clit. I couldn't resist pulling my fingers out and raising my hand. As in my dream they were slick with Milla's love juice but unlike my dream there was no sudden awakening as I sucked them clean. "You don't know how long ago I first dreamt of doing that!" I told Milla and she smiled as my fingers re-entered her. I curled my fingers deep and began rubbing her g-spot, knowing how much I enjoyed that. Her hips began to buck in time with my finger thrusts, each time giving a sharp cry. My thumb was now rubbing the clit itself when, with a long wail, Milla went rigid, her back arched off the bed. I felt liquid landing on my tummy and thighs. I looked down as another squirt from her pussy caught the bottom of my boobs. I dived forward, jamming my open mouth over the top of her slit in time to receive a third, weaker and final squirt over my tongue. Milla held for a few more seconds before collapsing back onto the bed, my fingers slipping from her. I sucked them clean once more as I lay down beside her, my arm over her as her breathing calmed. Her eyes opened and we smiled at each other. "You know, she said, "for a straight girl, you certainly know how to make a woman cum!" "Whatever I am," I replied smiling, "I'm definitely not a straight girl, not anymore." I lifted my head and began kissing her face and neck between words, "You know -- I said -- about -- being lovers -- tonight?" She nodded and I continued, "I think it might be tomorrow night too..." "Just tomorrow night?" she asked, laughing. "Every tomorrow night, for as long as you want me." "That'll be a lot of tomorrow nights," Milla murmured and we snuggled close, enjoying the closeness. I felt completely and totally loved and in love as we drifted to sleep. CHAPTER 9 -- A Weekend Break The next morning I had the delight of waking up with Milla spooned around me. I snuggled back and Milla whispered "Morning, Amber my love." Her hands stroked my tummy, sending little shivers through me. I reached back, my hand caressing her thigh. "I need to get up very soon, I'm afraid, my darling." "Not fair!" I complained, "I so want to eat you again!" "Mmm that would be lovely, but what if I want to eat you?" "You went first last time!" I said as I turned to face her and we kissed gently. The kiss deepened, my hands caressing her back. I felt her hands slide over my stomach, slipping lower. One hand slipped between my legs and I couldn't resist opening them for her. Her fingers found my pussy, making me gasp. I rolled onto my back, opening my legs for her. Milla knelt beside me, her fingers never leaving my sex. "Oh, Milla, yes: sixty-nine, please!" "My thoughts exactly," she replied as she straddled my head, looking towards my feet. I had the delightful view looking up at her pussy and, just beyond, the cute dark pink bud of her anus. She laid herself on top of me bringing her pussy over my nose so I nodded, rubbing my nose the length of her slit. She began kissing all over my vulva and I raised my knees, opening them as wide as possible. I began running my tongue along Milla's pussy, delighting as I felt her lips swelling under the caresses. I used my fingers to spread her pussy lips, allowing my tongue to lap deeper inside her. At the same time Milla began doing the same to me, making me moan with delight. Fingers slid inside me as Milla began to finger fuck me, each stroke rubbing across my clit. I slipped two fingers into her pussy as my tongue continued to lick as deeply as it could. My nose accidentally brushed her anal bud and she gave a squeal. "Sorry," I gasped. "Don't be!" she replied, "It was different -- but nice," she whispered. I could feel my orgasm building and felt so aroused and sexy. On impulse I trailed my tongue up across her perineum and flicked it across her bud. "Mmmm, you can keep doing that!" Milla squeaked; so I obliged, each flick bringing a gasp or moan. I suddenly thought about what I was doing but that just made me even more excited. I was getting close when Milla's fingers found my g-spot. To my surprise I didn't cum immediately but felt things step up another level. I placed my thumb on Milla's clit as I fingered her harder and faster. I felt her vaginal walls contract and her orgasm began. I started lapping at her pussy, where her juices were flowing but without yesterday's spectacular squirting. My God, she tasted so good and I felt my own climax begin, short and sharp. It peaked quickly but Milla now placed her mouth over my clit and began sucking and licking. Within moments I was heaving and bucking under a second, longer orgasm. We were both spent as Milla rolled off me, sweat glistening on our bodies. We lay there, top-to-tail, recovering. "I think we need a shower or every one of our customers will know exactly what we've been up to!" Milla giggled and rolled off the bed. "I think I need some clothes," I replied as I followed her. "Shit, yes! You could borrow my robe, just to go next door, would that be okay?" "Yeah, I can go round the back. Do you think we'd fit under the shower together?" We tried and it sort of worked but it would have been more fun with a bigger bath. And more time too, of course. Back home I dressed and, as there was a little time before opening, I checked my email for the first time in two days. Spam, spam, newsletter, junk, 'Your credit card statement...', spam, ah, something from Uncle Graham: Such a Little Thing Ch. 02 Such a Little Thing Ch. 02 She looked doubtful and replied quietly, "Amber, do you wish I was a bloke? Would you like it better if I had a cock?" I took her hands and held them tightly. "God, Milla, no, no, no! No, not for a moment! I love you, my wonderful friend and lover, with your beautiful, perfect, sexy, female body," I dropped my voice, "and your gorgeous, delicious pussy. It's just that I do enjoy the feeling of being fucked, penetrated, and the thought of you doing that to me... it would be, oh shit, I'd be in heaven!" "Oh Amber, thank you," she said in relief. "Okay, let's get this." It was quite expensive but as we saw the price Milla's only comment was, "Heaven obviously doesn't come cheap." Despite the cost, I did pick up one more item: a little vibrator similar to mine, a little larger and gold coloured. "Emergency backup?" Milla asked. "Possibly... or maybe we might want to use them on each other at the same time," I suggested mischievously. As we paid for the items the girl looked at us as we stood hand in hand and gave us a knowing smile. "Have fun, you two," she said as she handed us the bag with our new toys. I went bright red but Milla surprised me by putting her arm around me and saying, "Oh, we intend to!" making the shop girl and me laugh. We resumed our search for a dress for Milla. Eventually we found a gorgeous cherry red dress with a tight, short skirt that hugged her hips and legs while the bodice was sleeveless and cut to leave her lower back and sides bare. The satin-like fabric had a wonderful shimmer. Milla wanted to buy a pair of high heeled red pumps to match but I managed to talk her round to a pair of flats: she was already so much taller than me that, with her in heels, I'd feel like a munchkin! We stopped in a bar: we were thirsty and more than ready for some time out of the sun and heat and off our feet. It was late afternoon so the bar was relatively quiet. We sat and chatted as we sipped white wine spritzers. "Milla, are you really okay with what we bought in that shop?" "You mean the purple one?" I nodded. "Yes I am; I'm kind of flattered and turned on that you want me to use it on you. I just, well, I've never done anything like that so I might not be so good at it." "Just as long as it's you doing it, it'll be magical," I reassured her earnestly. "Shall we head back after this?" "Keen, aren't you?" she teased. I laughed. "Oh, very! But I thought we could try out the Jacuzzi and then have an early dinner and then," I leaned in close to kiss her neck and whisper, "a long, passionate night." Milla said nothing but picked up her glass and downed the remainder in one long gulp. "Ready?" she asked, grinning. Back in out room, hot and sweaty from our walk home, I headed straight into the bathroom to begin filling the Jacuzzi bath whilst Milla said she'd unpack and hang our new dresses to let any creases drop out. I was sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi, swirling my hand in the water to make sure the temperature was perfect, when Milla walked in, completely naked save for the amber pendent round her neck. I looked at her as she stood completely relaxed. "You love being naked, don't you darling?" I observed. "Mmm, yes I do. It feels so free and natural. And right now I want you equally free and natural," she smiled as she walked over and began pulling my top off. I stood and enjoyed her undressing me and was soon topless. I turned to turn off the taps and Milla took the opportunity to pull my shorts down, taking the panties with them. Turing back, I stepped out of my clothes to embrace Milla, our bodies fitting together perfectly as I savoured the feel of her skin against mine. We separated and I climbed in to the bubbling water where lay back at one end and Milla followed me in. She cuddled up beside me and we began kissing and caressing; her touch was slight above the tingle of jets and bubbles all over my body, but the feel of her slick, wet skin under my fingers was exquisite. We continued like that for some considerable time, content to be close and touch and kiss deeply but our hands gradually but inexorably explored lower, seeking each other's hot, wet pussies. Fingers brushed gently, traced and explored, each mapping the other's intimate contours before slipping inside. Our actions mirrored those of our beloved, our arousal and excitement rising apace. Our breathing became ragged as we panted into our kissing, breath shared. "I love you -- so much!" I gasped, breathlessly and I started to peak as Milla's fingers strummed across my engorged clit. "Oh darling!" Milla squealed, my fingers plunging deeply inside her as I felt her vaginal muscles contract and quiver. We rode our orgasms, holding tight to each other till we arrived in the satiated tranquillity beyond. We lay together, happy and content until hunger began to stir within us. We left the Jacuzzi and showered together to wash hair and rinse ourselves clean before dressing. We stood together before the full length mirror, admiring ourselves. "Amber, we make a stunning couple, don't we?" she laughed and I couldn't help but agree. "May I take my girlfriend to dinner?" "Certainly not!" I replied, indignantly and to Milla's confusion. "I am taking my girlfriend to dinner; my uncle -- my treat!" I smiled as I offered her my arm. "Why, thank you, my darling," she said demurely as she slipped her arm through mine and I led the way to the restaurant. As we approached, however, my nerve failed for the first time. Though we had wandered through London unselfconsciously holding hands or arm-in-arm, here in this place I shied from such open affection. Quite simply, I was intimidated and felt guilty for being so. I let go of Milla's arm. "I'm sorry," I whispered in shame, "I can't walk in there arm in arm with you. I'm so sorry, it's not you, it's me..." "Hush," Milla replied gently, "It's not you, it's this place: it's a bit overwhelming, isn't it? Don't worry, let's just enjoy our meal." I sagged with relief and thanked her before the Maître d' led us to our table. I felt good walking in with Milla, noting the looks we received, but wished I'd had the courage to hold her hand. The restaurant and the dinner were spectacular, both the surroundings and the food. We tried new things, often having to ask the waitress for advice, explanation and, for several dishes, translation. She indulged us as a pair of young ingénues, always polite and never patronising, even having the Sommelier come over to recommend a wine to accompany the main course. Wonderful as the meal was, we both knew that the highpoint of the evening waited back in our room. As we finished dessert I was becoming more and more aroused in anticipation and without thinking I leant forward, eyes locked onto Milla's. "I am so wet and horny thinking about you fucking me when we get back upstairs my puss is a complete, soggy mess!" I told her. Milla's eyes went wide as she looked over my shoulder. I turned and saw that the waitress had come up behind me and was standing close, leaning in to ask if we were finished. The blush on her face told me clearly that she had overheard. "I'm sorry," I blurted out, mortified, "I didn't mean you to hear..." She smiled at me, recovering her poise. "Not to worry, Miss," she said gently, "if I had a girlfriend like yours, I'm sure I'd be in the same state." I loved her for that reply and immediately mentally doubled the tip I planned. "Or like you, for that matter," she added, tripling her tip! We didn't stay much longer after that. As we rose to leave the waitress came over to begin clearing our table and found the tip I had left. "Have a wonderful night, ladies," she said quietly to us with the subtlest of winks that made my cheeks burn but delighted me at the same time. The trip up to our room had the same breathless anticipation of the day before and it was all I could do to stop myself from leaping on Milla in the lift and stripping her on the spot. Knowing Milla, part of her would probably have enjoyed that immensely. Once in our room, after a brief, passionate kiss, Milla again excused herself to go to the bathroom and so, as on the previous night, I began to undress. I noticed the gold vibe had been placed next to the silver one on the bedside table and hoped that room service hadn't been in and seen them. Just as I climbed onto the bed Milla came out of the bathroom but tonight I was disappointed to see her still dressed. She saw my pout of annoyance. "Now, now, Amber, she said smiling, "fair's fair; I undressed you earlier so now I want you to undress me." I didn't need a second invitation and bounced across the bed to stand in front of her, enfolding her in my arms as we kissed. The soft satin touch of her dress against my skin was deliciously sensuous. I was tempted to grind my sopping pussy into her thigh but realized what a mess it would make of the dress so I restrained myself as I reached down to grasp the hem of the dress and drew it up over her head. Neither of us had worn a bra to dinner, so her boobs popped free of the dress with a delightful jiggle. I moved in to kiss her again. "No, not yet," she warned, "panties too." I glanced down to her skimpy, dark pink briefs and my eyes widened at the huge bulge inside them. "You didn't have that on while we were at dinner did you?" I asked incredulously as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties. "Don't be daft you silly girl, of course not! I'm surprised you didn't notice the bulge in my dress just now when you took it off. Oh my God that looks obscene!" she exclaimed as I eased her panties down and the purple dildo stood out erect from her pussy. "It looks fucking hot! Does the other end feel good inside you?" I asked as my fingers traced the thin purple straps of the harness as they wrapped around her hips. "Mmm, actually it does," she replied and squirmed slightly making the dildo -- no, damn it -- making her erection sway and bob. "Oh! It feels even better when this bit," she touched the shaft, "moves; it makes it wriggle inside me!" "Does it now?" I asked, a saucy grin on my face, "Milla, your beautiful erection needs some attention -- and I have had some experience..." I sank to my knees and kissed the top end of the shaft, pressing it down gently. My tongue extended and I rolled it around the end and moving it in a little circle, hopefully making the end inside Milla do the same. My hope was proved right when she gasped. "Oh Amber that feels so nice inside me; don't stop!" I took the shaft in my mouth. It was too smooth and too hard to be a guy's cock but not unpleasant and Milla's reaction as I began to face fuck her erection would have made any unpleasantness worthwhile. I glanced up to see her staring down, a look of pleasure on her face. "I've never been given a blow job before," she smiled. "But nice as this is I want your sexy arse on that bed now; let's fill my darling girl's hot pussy with this!" I leapt onto the bed and lay back, my shoulders and head raised up on the pillows, allowing me to watch as Milla climbed on after me and moved between my open legs. She shuffled closer and held the shaft, still wet with my saliva, to the hot willing lips of my pussy. I saw nervous excitement in her eyes and I nodded to her. She placed her hands on my hips then slowly and with infinite gentleness she entered me. I saw my labia stretch and engulf the tip of the phallus, its colour vivid against the pinks and reds of my pussy. It was thicker than any guy's cock I had encountered but I was so wet that my pussy seemed to take it easily. She glided it deeper and I welcomed her penetration with a contented sigh. She was fully home now, our mounds pressed together and our bodied conjoined by the length of purple plastic. "Fuck me, Milla darling," I begged, "Fuck your adoring girlfriend." She withdrew, hesitated to check how far out she'd come, then drove back firmly, making me gasp at the sensation. She repeated the action, then again, each time becoming more confident. "Ooo, can you angle up a bit more, darling?" I asked and she shifted slightly. "Mmm, just a bit... yes... Oh God yes! Keep doing that!" I gasped as Milla's thrusts now drove the ridges on the dildo's tip right across my g-spot at each stroke. A smile grew on her face as she saw the pleasure she was giving me. And such pleasure! The girth of the dildo gave a feeling of fullness and the ribs on my g-spot -- wow! But oh so much more was the sight of Milla doing this to me. No one had ever mattered more or been dearer to me than this beautiful woman and here she was making love to me perfectly as I felt my orgasm building steadily and I found myself panting at each thrust. Her eyes shining now, Milla moved her right hand so her thumb rested above my clit and began to massage it firmly in time with her strokes. Within a minute my panting had become first gasps and then squeals of pleasure. Milla too was giving little moans and sighs. "Oh Milla -- that's -- so good!" I cried, "How is it -- for -- you?" "It's wonderful... The shaft inside me... and a ridge on the harness... right on my clitty." "Oh fuck!" I yelled, "I'm cummmming!" "That's right Amber... Cum for me... squirt for me." She cooed as my hips started to buck uncontrollably and my spasming cunt gushed like never before. She thrust hard and deep then began grinding her pussy against me, rubbing her little nub against the harness. A second, smaller orgasm tore through my body as Milla's head went back and her eyes closed. "Nnnnnn... yessss!" she wailed, riding her own orgasm, before slumping forward on top of me. We slowly recovered. "Milla, you are the best, sexiest lover in the world; that was the most fantastic fuck ever, do you know that?" Milla rolled off of me, the dildo pulling from my dripping, mushy pussy with a soft slurping sound. My thighs were sopping, the bed below me was wet and Milla's thighs and abdomen glistened with droplets. "I have never, ever, cum as hard as that or squirted like that before. You are so, so much better than Max or any boy ever, my darling Milla." "Thank you; I loved doing that for you, I loved fucking my little Amber. I didn't expect it to be such a workout though!" "Would you like to swap places?" I asked as my fingers traced circles around her nipple. "I think I'd like that my love," she replied and we began taking the harness off her. I pulled the inner dildo from her pussy that was now very red and puffy. I bent forward and licked it gently, my tongue caressing it, savouring her flavour. She helped me as I slipped into the harness after which I knelt on the bed looking at my new appendage. Milla was right; every movement was echoed inside me, weirdly making it feel like part of me, despite its lurid colour. I moved between her legs. I saw Milla biting her lip. "It looks so big on you," she murmured, "too big..." "We don't have to do this, love," I told her, "but if you want to I'll be as slow and gentle as you were with me, I promise." "I know you will; it's just... very new. I do want you, though, to... to take me with that." I held the phallus and gently brushed it against her swollen nether lips, starting at the bottom and sliding up to caress the clitoral hood at the top. "Mmmm that feels nice," she said. I repeated the movement several times then began easing the end deeper between the lips at each pass. "Are you ready, darling?" I asked and she gave a short nod. I sought to be as wonderfully gentle as she had been with me. I opened her so softly, her complete wetness allowing my new appendage, my purple cock, to insinuate itself ever further inside. I was ready to stop at any moment but she just smiled as she watched me slip ever deeper in small steps. "Oh wow! I feel so full," she told me as our mounds finally met. I paused there as we kissed, letting her vaginal muscles have time to relax. "I'm ready," she whispered and I began to gently to make love to her with slow stokes, alternating shallow thrusts with deeper ones. Milla squirmed her hips before wrapping her legs around my waist "Mmm, you can go faster and harder, Amber: I'm ready for it." And so I did and we fucked, hard and fast. Milla began to thrust back against me and I heard her breathing become ragged gasps. Her legs clamped hard around me and her head thrashed from side to side as the waves of her orgasm rippled through her. I continued to pump more slowly but, "No more!" she begged and I bent forward to hug and kiss her face and neck. The strap-on lay discarded at the end of the bed as we lay together, asleep in each other's arms and content in our love. Such a Little Thing Ch. 03 This is the final part of a lesbian romance. I split the story into three parts to keep each one a reasonable length but it is a continuous story so you'll need to read part one first, which can be found at: http: //www.literotica.com/s/such-a-little-thing-ch-01 Many thanks must go to EarthlyRose for her help editing this story. In addition, gratitude and thanks also to Winterreisser for his further editorial comments and suggestions. I also want to say herzlichen Dank to Kat for her enthusiasm, encouragement and feedback as I was writing this story. I'm glad to have you as a friend. Thanks to all my readers for the many positive comments. I hope you find this as enjoyable and a fitting conclusion to the story. As always, feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ CHAPTER 11 -- 'What are you doing here?' We were both a little tender the next morning so we made love gently with our tongues, lapping and licking each other to orgasm. We showered together again, reluctant to spend a moment not touching until we went, ravenous, to a late breakfast. As we walked in we were greeted by the waitress who had served us last night. As she led us to a table Milla expressed her surprise at seeing her working again in the morning. "Shift change," she explained. "I was on late shift last week and early shift this week. The changeover is horrible." She seated us and took our order. Just before she left she looked a little bashful as she asked, "Did you, er," she lowered her voice, "I mean, you did have a good night I hope? I don't mean to intrude." We both laughed. "Don't worry, you're not intruding," I replied, glancing at Milla, who nodded, "and we spent a wonderful night together, thank you." I heard Milla gasp and the waitress blushed. As she moved away, Milla poked me in the ribs. "Amber!" she hissed, "I can't believe you said that so loudly: that we actually spent the night together!" "But she knew, didn't she?" "She did, but the people on the other tables didn't! There are such things as subtlety and discretion you know." I hung my head apologetically. "Sorry -- I should have kept my voice down." "It's okay: I don't think anyone actually heard you, luckily." Over breakfast we planned our last day. We'd check out and then become tourists for a few hours. Milla was happy with my suggestion of travelling by Tube to Green Park from where we could walk over to see Buckingham Palace and the Houses of Parliament. We would have to carry our bags but that couldn't be helped. From Green Park we could then catch the Tube to Waterloo for the train home. I apologised to the waitress for making her blush and breakfast became a very relaxed, light hearted meal as the three of us chatted and joked. I think she was in the bi-curious category, which explained her acceptance of us and her comments last night. However, as Milla had cautioned me to 'subtlety and discretion' I thought it best not to ask. We returned to our room and packed before checking out a little before eleven o'clock. As the receptionist handed me the bill she said, "Thank you, Ms Taylor, the bill has, of course, already been settled. I hope you both enjoyed your stay." I assured her that we'd both had a wonderful time. The Underground journey was the usual hot and noisy experience I remembered. It was also surprisingly busy given that it was a bank holiday. "The Tube is so noisy and crowded; it's horrible!" Milla complained. "Welcome to the London commuting experience," I laughed, "Though rush hour is much worse than this," I pointed out, truthfully. However, I'm not sure that Milla believed me. From the Tube station we walked across Green Park itself to Buckingham Palace. The Union Jack was flying rather than the Royal Standard, so the Queen was not at home that day. We only managed glimpses of the end of the Changing of the Guard ceremony through the crowds at the railings. Walking though St James's Park we came to the Palace of Westminster where we wandered around the outside for a bit. Unfortunately, there wasn't that much to do so we headed back to Green Park again and on the way bought a couple of overpriced but wonderfully cold Diet Cokes. Back in the Park we found a tree to sit beneath in the leaf-dappled shade. Milla sat with her back against the trunk and I lay with my head in her lap. We chatted quietly and sipped our drinks. Milla looked down at me and I gazed into her beautiful eyes as she stroked my hair. She lowered her head slowly. "I love you, Milla," I sighed and our lips met softly as I closed my eyes. The kiss lingered and, as our lips parted, it deepened; our tongues met, caressed and entwined. A shadow fell across us and a voice drove a cold spike through my stomach. "Amber? What are you doing here? And what the fuck are you doing?" At the sound of Max the Bastard's voice my eyes shot open and even Milla was startled by its intrusion into our intimate world. There he was in his habitual black leather jacket, sunglasses hiding his eyes and with his girlfriend Jeanette, the woman who had -- thankfully -- taken him from me, standing just behind him. I scrambled to my feet and Milla stood too. Subconsciously my hand found hers, grasping it for support. "I'm here with my friend," I replied, my voice shaky with nerves, "just visiting." A sneer twisted his mouth "Yes, I saw the two of you. You're a queer, a dyke aren't you? That's why you liked drawing all those nude women: you're nothing but a fucking rug-munching, perverted slut! God, I was lucky I got rid of you!" It was horrible, sickening and frightening as he loomed over me. His words befouled the beauty and wonder of the love Milla and I shared, made it sound dirty and shameful. Pathetically, I burst into tears, unable to do anything except shake my head in denial of his foul condemnation of our relationship as I cowered back. There was a sudden loud crack! Through tear-blurred eyes I saw his head jerk sideways, his sunglasses flying from his face as his head twisted sharply and he staggered slightly. It took me a few moments to realize what had happened: Milla had slapped him, hard! "Fuck off you evil, bigoted bastard; leave Amber alone!" Milla yelled at him. "You skinny dyke bitch!" he snarled as he lunged at Milla, grabbing the front of her tee shirt. "You there; stop that right now and let her go!" A woman's voice full of command cut through the events. We all looked towards the voice to see a short, black woman police constable with her hand raised in warning. Her calm authority was further backed up by her colleague; a burly six-foot-three man, made even bigger by the stab-vests they both wore. Max immediately let go of Milla. "Now," the WPC continued, "can somebody explain what is going on here?" I couldn't talk but Milla spoke, her voice tight with anger, "This Neanderthal was calling Amber names and threatening her." "Whereupon I saw you hit him," the policewoman interjected. She turned to me, "What was he calling you, Miss?" I bit my lip. "It... it ... it was..." I began sobbing again. To my surprise, I heard Jeanette's voice. "He called her a 'queer', a 'dyke' and, what was it Max? Um, yes, a 'fucking perverted, rug-munching slut' I think it was." She was staring at Max with a look of disgust on her face. "He was being very aggressive and threatening to her." She concluded as Max shot her a look of pure hatred. "Those two," he gestured towards Milla and me, "were kissing and snogging under that tree -- in public! And she hit me, assaulted me: you should arrest..." "Sir!" the policewoman's voice cut him off. "While she did assault you, I should point out that you are also guilty of assault and, given the homophobic nature of the language you used, that would be an Aggravated Assault, which carries a possible two year prison sentence." Max looked stunned. "I don't want him prosecuted if he'll just go away and leave us alone," I managed to blurt out. Actually, I would have loved to see him prosecuted but didn't want the same thing happening to my darling. The WPC looked at me then back at Max. "So," she said to him, "It looks like they might let this go. What about you? Will you just apologise and walk away?" "Apologise?" he spluttered. "Oh, just do it, Max," Jeanette ordered him tersely. With ill grace bordering on contempt, he looked at me and through gritted teeth muttered "I'm sorry for what I called you -- both of you." He looks at Jeanette. "Come on, let's get out of here." "Off you go but we're through; I never want to see you again. I don't date bigoted Neanderthals." He looked at her in shock. "God, why did I get back with you?" she asked herself, "You never change." She shook her head in despair. Max stood there until the policewoman said quietly but firmly, "Off you go, Sir. And think about what you say and do in future." He started to walk away but after two steps there was a soft crunch as he trod on his fallen sunglasses. I heard a soft snort of supressed laughter from Milla and Max glared at her before turning and marching quickly away. The tension in the air dissipated with his departure until the policewoman spoke to Milla. "I know you were protecting your friend, but striking that man was not only illegal but foolish: it could have gone very badly for you had we not intervened." Milla nodded, "I know and I'm sorry. Thank you for your help." "Yes, thank you Officers," I added as both police constables moved off. Jeanette looked at the two of us for a few moments before speaking to me. "I guess you're the Amber that Max was going out with before I, er, came back onto the scene?" I nodded. "Look, I'm sorry about what just happened; he saw you with your girlfriend, um, kissing, and came straight over. I'm also sorry that I broke you and him up, your relationship..." I reached out and placed my hand on her arm and looked her in the eye. "Oh God, never, ever be sorry for that! You did me such a favour: without him leaving me I'd never have met Milla and, though breakup hurt a lot at the time, it was worth every ounce of pain to be with her now." I felt Milla's arm slip around my waist and hug me. She smiled and looked at Milla. "I've got to find someone who loves me as much as Amber loves you; you're very lucky." "I could suggest you stop dating guys and find yourself a girlfriend... okay, not for you then," Milla smiled at the look on Jeanette's face. "But you're right, I am very, very lucky." She hugged me tighter. "Thank you for standing up for us against Max, Jeanette; it was good of you." I told her. "It's okay. I may not be gay," she looked at Milla with a smile, "but what he said was horrible and wrong. Look, I need to get going but it was good to meet you, even if the circumstances weren't nice." She reached out to shake my hand but I leant forward and kissed her cheek. She blushed slightly but placed a hand on my hip and kissed my cheek in return. She looked at me and dipped her head shyly before hurrying off. "Well, she's not as straight as she thinks!" quipped Milla and I smiled but nudged her ribs. "Leave her alone, she did okay today. And you, my brave, foolhardy protector, were wonderful and heroic. I'm sorry I was such a weak, blubbering wreck; I should have just told him to fuck off." "Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You've never had to deal with homophobia before. The first time someone called me a dyke I was devastated; now I just get angry." She glanced up into the sky. "Shall we get moving -- it looks like rain's coming." Sure enough, the sun had gone as dark, heavy clouds massed from the west. We picked up our bag and began to walk towards the Underground station. CHAPTER 12 -- 'What will Mum and Dad say?' With the sun gone the temperature began to drop a little, though the air remained humid. A gusty wind also started, making the trees sway and rustle as we made our way across Green Park. "Amber, is Max likely to do anything to try and hurt you after what happened?" "Well, when University restarts in a month or so he'll probably tell everyone I knew what he saw us doing: how I'm obviously a raving, rug-munching lezzie and how he had a lucky escape. I've one or two people I'm still in contact with so I might have to tell them..." I hesitated, suddenly nervous, "um, about me -- us." A sudden thought struck me, "Oh shit! Facebook!" "What?" Milla asked and I remembered she'd never used Facebook. "Look, if he posts about this on Facebook, all his friends will see it. Some of them are my friends too. And if any of them comment, then their friends will see it. Oh, fuck: Mum's on Facebook so she might end up seeing it!" "Are you sure?" "No, not definitely, but it's certainly possible. Milla, what do I do? I can't tell them over the phone." "Well you could..." "How? Oh yes: ring, ring." I mimed putting a phone to my ear. "Oh, hi Mum. You know I split up with my boyfriend? Yeah, well I met this gorgeous girl who runs the coffee shop next door, who's gay and now I've discovered I'm a lesbian and we've just spent the weekend in a hotel having mind-blowing sex!" I reached into my pocket. "Yeah, that should work; let me just get my phone out..." I concluded sarcastically. "Have you discovered you're a lesbian?" she asked quietly. I was about to make another sarcastic reply about what we'd been doing in the hotel bed the last two nights but realized she was serious; I'd always said bisexual before. I'd used the word 'lesbian' instinctively and without thinking but now I thought carefully. I stopped and looked around. We were close to Green Park Tube station and there were lots of people around, a bit like being outside the student bar at University on a Friday night. Okay, so that's where I am and let's pretend that I'm looking to hook up with someone... There were quite a few guys, some very good looking and while I could see they were handsome with good, fit bodies, there was no spark of attraction or sexual interest. There used to be, didn't there? When did that change? Perhaps I in the past I had imagined it because I had expected it, wanted it to be there. No, that couldn't be true: there must have been something, once upon a time... perhaps, maybe. Then I looked at a girl in shorts so skimpy the bottom of her bum cheeks were visible, soft and smooth above firm and shapely legs... not as good as Milla's but still quite yummy. Or her friend in the short, strappy yellow summer dress, with the caramel skin and the cute face with lips that looked so soft and kissable... Um, okay, I guess that answered my question. "Yes, I am" I said quietly, "I can't imagine wanting sex with a guy, ever. I don't want anyone but you, but if we broke up, and if I ever managed to put my world back together after that... well, I guess I'd be looking at girls. And I think... yes, I'm cool with that -- it's just who I am really. I am scared of telling people though: what will Mum and Dad say?" "Your Uncle was okay about it though." "More than okay: he was happy for me. Of course! Let me phone Uncle Graham and talk to him." An intense ten minute phone call followed with Uncle Graham being his no-nonsense, practical Yorkshire self. "Tha needs to talk to your Mum and Dad face t' face, tha's right about that. So tha'll need to get there. Get tha self to Paddington and catch t' train to Swindon. I'll meet thee there and drive thee to tha parents' house. Fair enough?" "Thank you for all you've done. Milla and I have had a wonderful time, until the Neanderthal came along anyway. You're wonderful, Uncle Graham." "The things I do for my favourite niece -- and now her girlfriend too! Get on with thee now and call me when tha's on t' train. And call tha parents too and warn them you're coming; just tell them that tha's been away for t' weekend and want to pop in on t' way home or summat." With a dramatic sense of timing, heavy raindrops began to fall and there was a loud peal of thunder. We hurried the last twenty metres or so and entered the Underground Station. It was not a fun journey and not only because of my anxiety. I made a mistake on the Tube and we had to make an extra change. Paddington station was manically busy and we had to queue for ages to buy expensive tickets and then run to catch the train. Finally we were sat together as the train headed westward out of London and I toyed with the phone in my hand. I had phoned Uncle Graham but was struggling to summon up the courage to phone my parents; once I did that I'd be committed. Various nightmare versions of our meeting played themselves out in my imagination as I sat in silence. "Come on Amber, you're worrying far too much about this, it'll all be fine," Milla tried to reassure me. "Oh yes, of course it will; that's why, after all these year of knowing you're gay, you've still not told your parents!" I snapped back. "Don't fucking tell me this is no big deal!" I turned away, unable to stand the hurt in her eyes and stared sullenly out of the window. Minutes passed until Milla touched me gently on the arm and I turned to see tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry Amber, I was just trying to be positive; I know how hard this is. I also forgot how fast all this has happened for you..." "I'm sorry too: it was the stress talking. I know you were just trying to support me. I love you." We held hands and sat close together. Eventually, I phoned Mum and Dad and was relieved when I got the answering machine so I could just say I was on my way without any further interrogation. The rest of the journey was quiet but it was a more peaceful, companionable silence. We did agree one thing though: we would not hug or hold hands when we first arrived. When I came to speak to my parents however, I didn't know if I could do it without Milla holding me. Uncle Graham was in his car and waiting for us outside the station. I kissed his cheek as we climbed in. "Thanks so much for all this, Uncle," I said. As we drove off, I had to ask him, "How do you think Mum and Dad will react?" "Honestly, love? I don't know. It's not exactly summat we've ever talked about. Tha Dad's quite conservative but they're still tha parents, when all's said and done, and they love thee." We turned into my parents' street. "Are you coming in with us, Uncle?" I asked. "'Appen I won't, Amber love, leastwise not at first. It'll be easier for thee wi'out me so I'll just stop in the car till tha's ready. Here we are." We'd pulled up a short way from the house so it would seem as if we'd walked. I took a deep breath and opened the car door. "Good luck, both of you," he bade us as we climbed out. I felt sick with anxiety, my skin cold and clammy. I think the walk to my parents' front door was one of the longest of my life. I tried to convince myself that I was just popping in for a chat and a cup of tea on my way home from a lovely weekend. It didn't work. So with tremulous hand I rang the doorbell, trying to relax and calm my heart that was beating like a drum roll and did my best to put on my happy face as Mum opened the door. "Hi Mum!" I said brightly and then introduced Milla. The look on Mum's face told me that she knew something was wrong but, with Milla there, she didn't ask me on the spot. We went through to the sitting room. Dad was there and he kissed me and then, very formally, shook Milla's hand; typical Dad. Milla and I sat on the sofa while Mum hovered somewhat anxiously. "Shall I get you some tea?" she asked, to which she received a 'Yes please, Mum' from me and a 'Thank you Mrs Taylor' from Milla. She bustled off and I gave Dad our story about being away for the weekend and popping in on the way back. When Dad asked where we'd been and what we'd been doing things became tricky; this house was in no way on the way home from London. Such a Little Thing Ch. 03 "Well..." I said, thinking furiously, "it's not so much on the way home as a bit of a detour. I really wanted to come and see you both." "That's nice, love," said Mum as she returned with the tea tray. "Any reason in particular?" "Well I've not seen you since I started working at the framing shop, but, yes, there was something..." I could feel myself trembling but I felt Milla's hand slip into mine, which helped steady me. Dad didn't notice, but Mum did. "Yes?" she prompted, a slight edge to her voice. "It's... it's about me, who I am..." "What are you talking about, Amber? We know who you are: you're our daughter for heaven's sake," interjected Dad, slightly irritated by my rambling. I took a deep breath and decided to just say it. "Okay. Mum, Dad, I wanted to tell you that... I'm gay... I'm... a lesbian." I hesitate and glance at Milla who gives me a slight nod. I take another breath and grip her hand tightly, "And Milla here... she's my girlfriend." Silence followed. I half hoped that I'd hear Mum say 'That's nice dear. More tea anyone?' and nearly laughed at the thought. Thank God I didn't. "You can't be a, a, a lesbian, Amber. You've had boyfriends... you were with that chap, Max? Yes, Max, until a few of months ago," argued Dad. "She's just being silly, Tom. This is just some girlish infatuation with a woman and now she's just being a drama queen and trying to shock us." "No!" My voice was loud but I managed to keep from shouting. "Yes, I've had boyfriends including Max -- who treated me like shit! -- but I'm not physically attracted to men, certainly not now if ever. Do you know how hard it was to come to talk to you about this? But I had to, now Milla and I are together..." "Well that's the problem!" Mum interrupted, "this -- woman! -- has clearly been putting ideas in your head and she's leading you astray into this unnatural behaviour!" "What?" I exclaimed, "That's complete nonsense. Milla told me she was gay but never made me..." "That's enough, Amber. Your Mum's right, this woman is a bad influence and I think she should leave now -- and then leave you alone in future so that you can find a proper relationship with a man." Dad turned to Milla, "I'm sorry, but you can't stay here as it would be best if we can spend some time with our daughter on her own. I'm sure you understand." He stood, and gestured towards the door. Milla rose uncertainly but I clasped her hand tight as tears started to well in my eyes: this was worse than I'd dreaded. Then something hardened inside me. Max's language had been crude and bigoted and I had dissolved into a blubbering wreck. My parents' language might be polite, but the prejudice was still there and, worse, they were treating me like some silly child. However, I was not going to blubber: I was going to get angry. "Fine!" I declared, standing up sharply. "I felt I had to tell you about me -- about us -- because my delightful ex-boyfriend is likely to post spiteful things about my sexuality on Facebook and I felt you should hear it from me first. It would have been lovely had you even tried to listen and accept what I've told you. Milla has to leave because you've asked her to, but if she does, then I am going with her, okay?" "Amber, love, you don't need to go," pleaded Mum, clearly shocked and upset. "Please stay and we can find someone for you to talk to so you can sort this out." "There is nothing to sort out!" I was shouting now. "Aagh! What's the use? Come on Milla, let's go home." "Goodbye, Mr and Mrs Taylor," said Milla in a small voice as I stormed out with her in tow. I made it to Uncle Graham's car and threw myself into the passenger seat. Then the tears came and I wailed like a lost child, which is what I felt I'd become. Milla climbed in the back seat and placed her hand on my shoulder, squeezing softly, just being there. I grasped her hand and held it tight as, gradually, the wails and sobbing eased, though the tears continued gently falling. I looked at Uncle Graham. "It went badly then?" he asked. "I were worried it might." "They think I'm just playing at this, being a dramatic little girl. Either that or that Milla is corrupting me and that I need some kind of counselling." "Amber, maybe they just need a bit o' time t' come round and accept it. It's very sudden for them." "I know. It's not how I wanted it to be either. It's just... oh, Uncle, they didn't want to even try to listen. And they wanted to throw Milla out so they could talk to me alone. Persuade me that I wasn't a lesbian is I think what they had in mind." Uncle Graham sat in silent thought for a while then made a decision. "Come on, Amber. You too Milla," he said as he opened the car door and got out. We followed him back down the road to the house. "Now, you lasses listen," he warned, "particularly you Amber: stay quiet and let me talk. When tha needs t' talk, stay calm. I'm guessing that realizing and accepting you were gay was hard, yes? Well, remember that this is every bit as difficult for them, maybe harder. You ended up wi' a girlfriend, Amber; they're scared they're losing their daughter." "I'm scared of losing them too," I admitted. "All the more reason to stay calm then. Is thee alright, Milla?" "Yes, Uncle," she replied, making Uncle Graham smile. "Thanks for helping Amber through this." "Aye, well let's see. Here goes nowt!" and he rang the bell. "Afternoon, Tom," he said as Dad opened the door. He looked past Dad "Hello, Abigail, love; nice to see my little sister. May we come in?" Dad hesitated and I could see Mum had been crying like me. "I think we need t' talk; Amber's upset and I can see Abigail is too. Tha don't look too happy, neither." Dad opened the door and we began to file in, Milla last. "Okay, but we don't need Amber's, um, 'friend' here." "Tom, don't make Amber choose between her parents and Milla. " Uncle Graham said quietly, "you'll lose either way up: if she chooses Milla, you've lost her, if she chose you, she'll like as not hate thee for forcing her t' walk away from the woman she loves." I saw Dad flinch at the word 'loves'. "Aye, Tom, she loves her, whether thee and Abigail likes it or not. And Milla loves Amber just as much. Come on, let's sit down and sort it out, if we can." So we filed back into the sitting room, Milla and me on the sofa once again, Uncle Graham in one armchair and Dad in the other with Mum perched on the arm. "So," began Uncle Graham, "let's begin wi' some introductions, or rather, one introduction. This is Milla Carluccio who runs Caffè Carluccio, the coffee shop next to my -- and Amber's o' course -- framing shop. She makes lovely coffee and was very welcoming and friendly to Amber when she first arrived in the town and knew no one. As I understand it, they became friends. Milla and Amber get on very well together, help each other out and support each other." "That's all very well Graham, and it was kind of, of Milla to be welcoming to our Amber," Mum replied, "but this lesbian nonsense. They can just be normal friends, surely? I have lots of women friends." "Mrs Taylor? Milla asked timidly, "Do you find any of your women friends sexually attractive? I'm not trying to be rude or flippant, but do you?" "What? No, of course not!" "Then you are neither a lesbian nor bisexual. Perhaps we should ask Amber the same question?" Milla looked at me and nodded. I looked at my parents. "I do find women attractive, and not just Milla," I held up my hand to forestall the objections my parents were about to make. "I'm sure that's been true for some years at least and, though I never admitted it to myself, part of me, I think, knew that I was at least bisexual. I think I was attracted to boys too when I was younger but how much I can't be sure, not now. I was certainly attracted to the idea of a boyfriend because, well, you had to have a boyfriend at school and college or you were a weird saddo. "At university Max asked me out, mainly because he'd just been dumped I suspect, but anyway I went with it because he was handsome and people told me I was lucky he'd wanted me. And we had se... well you probably don't want to know what we had, but it was okay, fun even, at times. And I screwed up my year at University and he dumped me." "But just because he was vile to you... not all men are like that, you know." Mum protested. "Mum, I know that Max is a particularly obnoxious and odious individual. That doesn't matter; it wasn't ending with him that made me reassess my sexuality, it was meeting Milla." "So she has been convincing you! It's as I thought, she's..." said Mum angrily. "Abigail," Uncle Graham interrupted but kept his voice calm and soothing, "let the lass speak." "Milla never tried to convince me." I looked at Milla, pleading with my eyes for her to help me out. "Mrs Taylor, I admit that I found your daughter attractive from the moment I first saw her: she is beautiful and clever, kind and friendly." I found myself blushing but I saw Mum and Dad nod in agreement -- one point to Milla. "However, I'm not some predatory dyke seducing young, lonely women. The truth is that I'd had very few lesbian relationships before I met Amber and only ever one girl that I'd have called a girlfriend, back when I was at college. It didn't end well and I was badly hurt by it; for her it had all been an experiment and she decided she wasn't gay." The sadness and pain of that break-up were again visible in Milla's eyes. I couldn't help slipping my arm around her to comfort her. I looked at Mum and Dad and for the first time since my announcement they seemed to see her simply as a young woman and not some freak. "Amber was friendly," Milla continued, "and I really liked being with her. I... I admit that I flirted with her a bit, I couldn't help myself..." I turned slightly to look at her and she did the same to me, our hands joined. "And you were so cool with it," she continued, now talking to me, "and when I saw your drawings, the way you drew the women, the tenderness... it all made me wonder, even to hope, that apart from being stunningly beautiful, and kind and clever and my friend, that you might be gay too." She looked again at Mum and Dad. "I came out to Amber and told her that I was a lesbian. I felt I had to, even though I knew she might then walk out and end our friendship as others had done to me in the past. She didn't: she accepted me as I am. She said that she might be bisexual, that she did find women attractive, at least to look at." "But Amber is now saying she's a... a lesbian," said Mum, her voice was low and full of confusion but she had stopped protesting. "Yes, Amber," added Dad, "why the change?" "I couldn't stop thinking about Milla. It was like that since the first time we met, since -- it sounds silly, it was such a little thing -- since she touched my hand to give me back the money I'd given her for a cup of coffee. I kept thinking about that touch. I started wondering about us together, I thought and dreamed of kissing her and more... what it would be like to sleep together..." "They call it 'bi-curious' don't they?" I was surprised by my mother's voice and looked at her. "Some of the ladies at badminton were talking about it the other week," she explained defensively, her cheeks pink. I smiled, "Yes Mum, they do, and I was very definitely in that category. But I couldn't do anything because I couldn't do to Milla what her friend at college had done to her; I couldn't use her to satisfy my curiosity and hurt her in the same way again. It was driving me nuts -- all the things I dreamt and so wanted but couldn't have, until..." "Until I told her that we needed to take a chance." Milla interjected. "We both loved and cared for each other, we knew that; we just needed to take a risk on that last step. We both accepted that it might be a once only thing, but we're so very glad it wasn't!" "There's more to a relationship than sex!" protested my Dad. "We know, Dad, but, well, it is an important part. And, for me, it also meant accepting that I love a woman fully, not just as friend or a companion but someone I want to share my life with, completely and in every way; in a way that I don't want to share my life with a man." I paused, looking and Mum and Dad in turn. "I found it hard, admitting to myself that I wasn't straight because, well, that's what I'd always told myself I was. After admitting what I felt for Milla, I called myself bisexual at first but the truth is I'm lesbian and knowing that, admitting that... well, I feel that I'm properly me for the first time in my life." There was silence, the sort of silence that's full of whirling thoughts. It went on for some time until, eventually, Uncle Graham spoke. "Abigail, Tom, I know this is sudden for thee both. Well, the girls haven't exactly hung around either. However, I saw them together in Milla's Caffè and that were before they, er, got together if you catch my meaning, but even then there were a real love, a spark between 'em. I saw it." "Not just you, Uncle. Other people who saw us noticed it too." "Aye, well I'm not surprised: the two of you could be a bit touchy-feely at times!" He turned to my parents once more, "Anyways up, the question for you two is whether you're going t' accept what Amber has told thee? You don't have t' be happy about it, you don't even have t' like it; will you accept it?" My parent's looked at each other. "Milla, Amber, why don't we three go into t' kitchen and make us a brew and let them talk for a bit, eh?" So we went to the kitchen and made a pot of tea. Uncle Graham shamelessly raided the biscuit tin for all the Chocolate Digestives and shortbreads, filling a plate with them before we went and sat out on the patio in the evening sun to drink tea and munch biscuits. "They could be a while, so we're well stocked. Let them come t'us when they're ready," he said. "You were brilliant in there, Uncle," said Milla and Uncle Graham laughed. "It's right sweet when you call me that, Milla, but Graham will do. Same goes for you, Amber, you're a big lass now. You two were very open and honest back there: you definitely made your parents think. I just hope they think carefully. The world's different now, more accepting and you two deserve a chance." A thought occurred to me "Uncle, you never married did you?" "Eh? No lass, happen I never met t' right woman." "When I asked Milla if she'd not met Mister Right yet, she said that there wouldn't ever be a Mister Right. Could there ever have been a Missus Right for you?" Uncle Graham stared at me. "It's all water under t' bridge now and is long past mattering, but no, probably not. I think tha made a better choice t' be who you are, but things was very different then," he replied quietly. Then straightened up and spoke firmly, "An' that's as much as I'm going t' say on t' subject!" The sun was getting low and Milla and I were cuddled close, my head on her shoulder, when we heard footsteps. We sprang apart and looked to where Mum and Dad had emerged onto the patio. "It's alright Amber," said Mum, "you can cuddle with Milla, with... your girlfriend." I could see those last two words hadn't been easy for her to speak but she'd said them anyway. I leapt up and went and hugged her. "Thank you Mum. I'm sorry that I upset you by walking out earlier," I told her, "but please understand that I won't apologise that I'm lesbian, any more than you or Dad should apologise for being heterosexual." Dad actually gave a little chuckle. "You and Milla have been very candid and honest with us, and that has helped us a lot, but actually Amber, that comment is probably the most sensible thing I've ever heard." He held out his arms and I hugged him too. "Lesbian, straight, whatever you're still our daughter, Amber." He turned to Uncle Graham, "And you were right, Graham: we can't make Amber choose between us and Milla, not if we love her." We had more tea; Mum produced sandwiches and cake and my parents and Milla began to get to know each other. Eventually, Uncle Graham interrupted the peace that had broken out. "I'm sorry t' play the big, bad mill owner, Amber love, but I've a shop that need t' open tomorrow and I believe there's a nearby Caffè in t' same situation, eh Milla? Come on, I'll drive you both back." We said our goodbyes and, while things were still a little reserved between my parents and Milla, I was very touched when I overheard Dad say quietly to her, "Thank you for making our daughter so happy." CHAPTER 13 -- 'I've hidden this for so long That night we were back in Milla's bed, naked and snuggled up together. Uncle Graham was crashed in my bed as, after the two hour drive here it was too late for him to drive home. "What a weekend!" I sighed tiredly. "I feel completely wrung out." "Amber?" "Yes, Milla my darling?" "I'm so glad that telling your parent's worked out okay in the end." "It's not perfect yet; Dad seems more okay about it than Mum. Perhaps it's easier for him to understand the idea of being attracted to a woman, particularly one as spectacularly cute and gorgeous as you!" "Maybe," she replied distractedly. "I need to tell my parents, don't I?" she added reluctantly. "I think, yes, you do. It was wonderful to be more openly a couple in London but what if it hadn't been Joe that saw us on Saturday?What if it'd been your Mum or Dad or one of their friends in the town?" "Or Nonno... Amber, I have to tell them, but I'm so scared. I've hidden this for so long." I slipped my hand into hers and held it up. "It's not going to be easy but you told me once that you could tell them if you had the right woman by your side holding your hand: well, here I am. I'll be with you, Milla darling." "Thank you, Amber, you're the best. Can we go and see them tomorrow, after work?" "Of course, whatever you want to do." "I don't want to at all... but I have to. Oh God, I'm so nervous about it; I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight." "Perhaps I can help you relax," I suggested. "What did you have in mind?" she asked suspiciously. "I thought a massage might help," I said innocently, though the images of our oil-slick bodies sliding together that were playing in my head made my pussy grow hot and wet. "Mmm, it would help," she sighed and I slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom where I remembered there was a bottle of massage oil on the shelf. Also there was my makeup bag and I reached in to take out the gold vibrator that we'd not yet christened. I didn't want to walk in holding it but being naked I had no pockets. Actually, I had one 'pocket' I realised and the vibe wasn't too long so... I reached between my legs with it, lined it up and slid the whole thing inside my cunt. Ooo yes! Just the feel and knowing it was buried inside me almost made me cum right then. I was definitely going to enjoy this massage; I had to ensure that Milla received just as much pleasure. When I returned to the bedroom Milla was laying on her front with her arms raised and her legs slightly apart. I climbed on the bed and knelt next to her. "Ready, darling?" I asked and she nodded. I took a large handful of oil and coated my hands before spreading across her upper back and shoulders. I added more oil, admiring the way her perfect, smooth tanned skin glistened in the soft lamplight. I began gently to massage her neck and shoulders. "I should have lit some candles," I told her. "Mmm no need," she sighed, "this is perfect my love." I continued, expanding to massage her back, working out the tension and knots in her muscles. I moved and now began again from her feet, gradually moving up her calves to her thighs. I was now sat straddling her leg, my inner thighs and pussy slick with the oil from her skin. I used long strokes from the top of her thigh, over her bum and up her back as I massaged her glutes and lower back. I was rocking back and forth as I did so, my oiled pussy rubbing deliciously over her glistening skin; the pressure also moved the vibe embedded inside me. Such a Little Thing Ch. 03 I eased her legs further apart, allowing me to massage her inner thighs. I dribbled more oil between her arse cheeks and began massaging each firm, perfect bun. I allowed my fingers to brush her anal bud, remembering how she had enjoyed this previously and, sure enough, she responded with happy sighs. I saw that her pussy was also responding; normally the soft cleft between her outer lips showed only a slight pink ridge of her inner labia but now the outer lips had begun to open and the inner lips had darkened, swelled and bloomed, thrusting out. When I lowered my head I could smell her arousal over the scent of the oil. I began to gently massage her anus, my finger pressing slightly into the tight pucker and she gave a loud moan, "Mmm Amber, that is so kinky but feels so nice!" It was time to use the vibrator on her so I raised myself off her leg and slipped the fingers of my free hand into the now sopping, fleshy mass of my pussy. Grasping the butt end of the vibe was difficult; the oils on my fingers and my copious juices conspired to make it impossible to grip. I dried my hand against my tits and stomach and tried again and this time managed to tug it down. It came out with a surprisingly loud slurping sound. It was dripping with my juice and, as my finger continued gently rubbing her bum hole, I began stroking her labia with the vibrator. She was as wet as me and I slid it easily into her pussy until, with just the last centimetre of it in my fingers, I turned it on. The vibration was noticeable stronger that than my silver vibe and Milla's hips shot off the bed, impaling her anal ring on my finger. "Oh fuck that feels fantastic!" she gasped breathlessly a moment later, "Your finger and the vibrator at the same time -- so good!" I began slowly pumping the vibrator in and out whilst, very gently, doing the same in her arsehole. She began to squeal and gasp "Yes!" over and over. She bucked hard again and now my finger was in past the first knuckle as her orgasm exploded. I let go of the vibe to cup my hand under her gushing pussy before raising my overflowing hand to my mouth. God! She tasted so good. As her orgasm passed I pulled my finger from her and she flopped back onto the bed, utterly spent. I pulled the vibrator from her still-dripping puss and lay down beside her, licking it clean. I looked at Milla, sprawled face down beside me; she was asleep already so I gently pulled the sheet over her, kissing her hair. "Night, night darling," I whispered and settled down to sleep beside her. I gradually woke from a deep sleep, a wonderful warm, sexy feeling in my pussy. I imagined Milla wearing the strap-on preparing to penetrate me, the tip of the dildo against my lower lips. I opened my legs wide, my body echoing my dream. "Fuck me, my darling woman," I sighed in my semi-sleep. I imagined her pressing forward, entering me and felt it in my pussy! My eyes flicked open to see sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains. I turned my head and saw Milla knelt beside me; a dawning realization filled my mind and I raised my head to look down my body. There was Milla's hand holding the golden vibrator half buried in my pussy. "Good morning to you, my" she leant in and kissed me on the nose, "cute," a kiss on the cheek, "sexy," kiss on the other cheek, "kinky," kiss on the lips, "lesbian," long, deep kiss on the mouth, "girlfriend! Thank you so much for looking after me last night." "It was my pleasure, my darling. Mmmm, this is a fantastic way to get woken up!" I told her. "Hmm, good job you did wake up: another thirty seconds and this would have been all the way in and I'd have turned it on like you did to me last night!" "When I was asleep? You wouldn't da-aaaaaaaaaare!" She had slid the vibe deeper and turned it on without warning. "Oh shit that feels so nice!" I gasped as Milla laughed. I felt my juice begin to flow, trickling down over my perineum. "It does, doesn't it? I can remember something else that felt nice too." She reached down and picked something up, hiding it in her hand as she shuffled down the bed. "Now just lay back; it's my turn to look after you this morning." I wondered where this was going, though I had some hopes and spread myself wider in anticipation. "Hmmm, a horny little dyke, aren't you?" Milla teased. "I'm your horny little dyke! No man ever made me half this horny," I told her honestly. I felt my anus being caressed and let out a long "Oooooo" of pleasure. "My little dyke likes her bum ring being tickled." The caresses became a firm pressure on my bud. "Oh God, do I ever!" I admitted and instantly the silver vibrator that Milla had pressed against my bud was flicked into action. The sensation thrilled through me, echoing the vibration in my pussy. I pressed my hips down and felt my pucker open to take the tip of the vibe. "More," I gasped, and Milla slowly pressed the vibe deeper into my arsehole, lubricated by the juices flowing from my pussy. Under this double assault my climax rushed on me but it was not the normal short, sharp cumming of a quick orgasm but rather this seemed to bounce and rebound inside me, front to back and back to front as the vibrators buzzed my innards to a creamy pulp. At some point I realized that the vibe was gone from my pussy and Milla was hungrily eating me out. The second vibrator was removed but Milla continued her soft lapping until I could stand no more and I twisted away, clamping my legs together. I lay, curled on my side as Milla spooned me from behind. "Is it possible to be fucked to death by your gorgeous, sex maniac, lesbian lover?" I gasped. "If it is, then this is a suicide pact -- you nearly killed me last night!" she laughed. I turned to lie on my back. "I don't want to die with you, my love; I want to live with you and for a long time!" I said earnestly. "Milla? When you told me you were gay you mentioned getting married. Were you serious? Would you want to get married, well a Civil Partnership anyway, with a woman?" Milla raised her head on her elbow and looked at me intently. "I would, yes. Why?" "I," I hesitated, suddenly bashful, "I would too. I'd love to live in a world where I could walk in with a woman and say this is my wife." "Any woman?" Milla asked quietly. "No, not just any woman," I whispered, smiling. Milla sat up and moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, her head bowed. I sat up too, and without thinking sat in the same way, facing her. "People would think it's completely ridiculous because we've only known each other for, what, seven weeks?" she said sadly. "My parents told me that they were talking about getting married after just two weeks together so it's quick but, no, not completely ridiculous. People would say I'm too young though and that, well, I've just discovered I'm gay... and my parents..." "And mine too -- they won't even know I'm gay until this evening! Come on, we better get up: we promised Graham breakfast for all his help yesterday." We showered together, missing the spacious shower of the hotel room but enjoying the intimacy. After we'd dressed Milla started on breakfast whilst I went to fetch Uncle Graham -- somehow I couldn't think of him as just Graham. When we arrived back, Milla had set the small table and was already serving up bacon and eggs with toast. I went and kissed her, "It never ceases to amaze me how brilliant you are at cooking, my love." After breakfast we said goodbye to Uncle Graham before we went our separate ways and Milla and I tried to keep ourselves busy to avoid thinking about that evening. Our experience with my parents did not bode well at all. Just after four o'clock Milla came into the workshop looking, I had to be honest, terrible. I took her in my arms and hugged her tight. "It'll be alri..." I stopped myself, remembering how a similar comment from Milla yesterday had made me explode. "Okay, it could be horrible," I conceded, "but I'll be there with you. And maybe what happened yesterday will help us handle it better; remember, we don't apologise for being lesbians!" She took a deep breath, "I won't apologise and hopefully it'll be okay. Oh God, Amber, I'm so glad you'll be with me." "Of course I will. In the meantime..." I reached under the bench and pulled a bottle of lager from what had been a large bowl of ice at lunchtime but was now mostly water. "I got this ready for you. I know it's early but it might help you relax just a bit without getting drunk." I opened the bottle and handed it to her. "Er, you do drink beer, don't you?" "Not usually," she said as she accepted the bottle, "but as it's Italian and as you gave it to me and because I'm so stressed -- cheers!" She took a swig. "Actually, that's not too bad. Thanks Amber." I continued finishing up what I was doing. "Do your parents live here in town?" I asked. "No, in Cotterton, a village about ten miles away; we can catch the number 17 bus from down the road." "What time is the bus?" "There's one just before five o'clock and the next an hour later." I put the tools away. "Stuff it; I'm closing ten minutes early so we can catch the first bus. I don't want you having to wait and worry for an extra hour." And so it was, forty minutes later we were standing at the door of Milla's parents' large house. Mrs Carluccio opened the door. She was middle aged, tall and slim like Milla but lacked Milla's olive skin. Her hair and eyes were brown and, as she invited us in, I saw the same amber shading in her eyes as in Milla's. "Hi, Mama," said Milla in a bright, brittle voice. "This is my friend Amber, Amber Taylor; she runs the new framing shop next door to the Caffè." We shook hands, "Pleased to meet you Mrs Carluccio." "Hello Amber and welcome; it's not often I get to meet one of Milla's friends." She led us through to a large, bright open kitchen that was obviously part on an extension to the back of the house and invited us to sit so we sat side by side. "This is an unexpected visit, Camilla." "Is Papa home?" "No, dear, he could be another hour yet." She looked at her daughter, "Was there something you wanted tell us?" Her eyes looked at me appraisingly. "I do Mama... but..." "Well, do you want to wait for your Papa or can you just tell me first? It might be easier that way." Milla nodded. "I... Mama, you know I don't have a boyfriend?" "Yes, Camilla, I know. I don't think you've ever had a boyfriend, have you?" she replied calmly. I looked at her. She seemed almost to be expecting something. "No, I haven't, and I won't, ever." "That's okay dear. Do you want to tell me why you won't and why you're so sure?" "It's because... Mama, I'm homosexual, a lesbian!" Milla looked terrified as she blurted the words out. Mrs Carluccio simply nodded, a slight, satisfied smile on her face. "Camilla, it's okay," she said gently, "I'm glad you've told me but I must confess that I've thought that you probably were gay for a long time." "Really, Mama?" Milla sounded surprised but also relieved. "I've known since I was at college, but... how did you guess?" "Camilla, I may be just an old woman to you but I'm not stupid! You've never shown any interest in boys or men, so I began to wonder and watch you, follow your eyes when we were out. No man ever got more than a glance, but some of the girls and women... you certainly noticed them!" She smiled and turned to me, "And you, Amber, sitting so close and protective and concerned for Camilla..." she looked back at Milla and leaned forward, "who is, I notice, wearing an amber pendant that I've never seen before; are you perhaps the reason why Camilla has told me this today, I wonder?" We both nodded, but the look of terror on Milla's face when we arrived had been replaced, first by amazement and now by a smile. "Yes, Mama: Amber is my girlfriend." "And Milla is most definitely my girlfriend," I slipped my arm around her. "Mrs Carluccio, that was amazing. You were like Sherlock Holmes the way you deduced all that!" Mrs Carluccio looked at me and smiled, "It was elementary, my dear Amber. I read the Sherlock Holmes stories when I was a girl and I've always enjoyed trying to work things out using 'the method'. I had lots of practise as a mother working out what Camilla and her brother Marco were up to." "That's why Marco and I never got away with anything," complained Milla. "Mama, how do you feel about it, knowing that I'm a lesbian?" "Honestly? Well, I was -- I still am -- a bit afraid of what people might think of us as parents; that they'd believe that we did something wrong raising you, even though it's nonsense. I was also a little disappointed, I think, that there'd be no wedding or grandchildren. Mostly, though, I was worried about you, Camilla; the prejudice and hate you might get and whether you'd meet someone who'd love you. I think that I can stop worrying on that last point, can I?" "Definitely, Mrs Carluccio," I replied firmly, "I, I love your beautiful daughter so much." "And, well I heard they're talking about maybe changing the law so gay people can marry, so the wedding might happen..." Milla added. Mrs Carluccio gave us another appraising look. "I can see you've begun thinking about the future together." She smiled at us. "Camilla, Amber: I'm very happy for you both." "Mama, does Papa know, well, guess that I'm gay?" "Lucca? Guess? Of course not! If you were one of his buildings he might have paid enough attention to have noticed!" she smiled. "However, I have told him what I suspected, though he didn't much like it, I'm afraid. He tells himself that you're being selective and just need to meet the right man. I'm not sure how he'll react when you tell him that the 'right man' is this very pretty young lady." I couldn't help blushing. "I think in his heart he knows... just -- try not to get angry if he's a bit stubborn." "Yeah, I, er, stormed out of my parents' house when they didn't accept it. That really didn't help." I told her. "How do they feel now?" she asked. "Um, well, it was only yesterday that I told them. It was meeting Milla that made me realize I was lesbian. I had a boyfriend until three months ago, so I should have been gentler on them I guess." We chatted on as Milla and I told her about the meeting with my parents and why I'd had to tell them. We then went back to when we met, how I'd struggled with accepting my real sexuality, even the drawing I'd done on her birthday evening that had ended with us sleeping together. "I'd love to see that drawing one day," Mrs Carluccio told us, "if you wouldn't mind Camilla. Perhaps you'd draw me one day, Amber, though perhaps not in the same state of déshabillé -- an ordinary, fully clothed portrait would be fine! Ah, I think that's your Papa." She stood and went to the kitchen door as we heard car doors slam. Doors, not just a door: that was odd. Mrs Carluiccio turned to us, "Milla, I think Nonno is with Papa." Milla went pale. "Let's not say anything today, Camilla. Talk to your Papa on his own another day." "No, Mama, I want to get this over with. I need to tell Nonno too some time anyway, so why not today?" We heard the front door being opened and heard a man's voice, "Hello Louise, I've brought Papa with me. I happened to drive past the Caffè and he was outside. He was going to see Camilla but she wasn't there." I guessed that was the younger Mr Carluccio, Milla's dad. "No, she's here," Mrs Carluccio told him. I recognised Nonno's voice, "My Camilla she is here? I wanted speak to her at the Caffè." "Why don't we all go to the drawing room where we can be more comfortable?" suggested Mrs Carluccio. The room was large and comfortable with two sofas and two armchairs. A vast plasma screen TV was located against one wall and the other walls were hung with paintings and architects' drawings of buildings. We filed in and once again Milla and I were seated together on a sofa. I had tried not to sit too close to Milla so as not to make our relationship too obvious but she shuffled closer until our legs were touching. As soon as we were seated, Mr Carluccio asked who I was. Milla was about to reply when, "That's Amber. She's Camilla's good friend who does the framing of the pictures. And she tidies up il Caffè for free, just to help Camilla when it busy! She's a lovely young lady. She's a very good artist, too; very passionale... er, passionate." "She's Camilla's...special friend, Lucca," Mrs Camilla said, clearly trying to get her husband to understand our relationship without using the words 'girlfriend', 'gay' or 'lesbian'. The light of understanding, however, failed to dawn in Mr Carluccio's mind and he just looked slightly confused. His wife made one last desperate attempt, "Amber is Camilla's not-boy friend!" I thought that this was a long shot and wasn't surprised when Mr Carluccio looked even more confused. "Of course she's not a boy. What..." "Louise, she is trying to tell you that Camilla, she likes girls and Amber, she likes the girls too. Is that right, Camilla? And you two in love together?" If jaws dropping made a sound then we'd all have been deafened! As it was, there was absolute, stunned silence. "Yes, Nonno, I do. I like girls, not boys or men. That's why I came over, Papa, to tell you and Mama that I'm gay... and that Amber is my girlfriend." She held my hand and squeezed it, waiting for the reaction. "That makes sense why you two are holding hands the other week; I see you walking like little girls. And I see the drawing in the flat, Camilla; when you not there today I go in and see your beautiful picture. Amber, she draw it, no?" Milla was blushing as she nodded and I felt a little flushed myself at the thought of Nonno looking at the nude -- and more than a little sensual -- drawing of his granddaughter. "Papa?" Milla needed to know her father's feelings. "Louise, you were right, weren't you? I should have believed you. My little girl..." "Papa, your little girl is a grown woman, a woman who has found someone who absolutely adores and loves her." Milla looked at me. "And I love her back, just as much" "Another woman though!" he protested. "Lucca, in this day and age, why does that matter?" asked Mrs Carluccio. "Surely the fact that Amber loves our daughter and makes her happy is what matters? Camilla is a lesbian, it's a part of who she is, it's always been a part of who she is. She's the same person today as she was yesterday or last week or last month." "Always, Camilla?" "Probably, Papa. I've been sure since I was at college." Mr Carluccio sat frowning, looking at Milla and I and Mrs Carluccio, even once or twice at his father. Milla sat nervously chewing her lip. Finally, he gave a deep sigh. "Okay, fine. It looks like I'm the last to know, as usual, but, okay: Hello, Amber, I'm pleased to meet my daughter's girlfriend," and with that he came over and shook my hand and Milla leapt up and hugged him. "I need a drink: how about dinner at The Old Fox?" he asked everyone. As we walked to the pub in the centre of the village, Milla spoke to Nonno. "You were very cool about Amber and me, Nonno." "You think because I am old, maybe I should not, not approve you love a girl?" "Well, I did worry, yes. I can't help who I am but I don't want to upset you." "Hey, I want my son to run the Caffè, but he wants to be a architect and it make me upset. But then my beautiful granddaughter, she loves to run the Caffè and that make me happy. Now my granddaughter, she a lesbian and loves another beautiful girl: so what? She is happy, what more should I want?" Milla leant in and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Nonno. I love you." Milla and I wrapped out arms around each other and hugged as we walked on. "I guess we're officially 'out' and a couple," she said, the relief in her voice obvious. "What next I wonder?" Such a Little Thing Ch. 03 "Well, let's give it a few months and I'm sure there'll be a proposal we can consider!" and we both smiled. EPILOGUE A few months became six, then seven, then ten. Two shops closed but a new one opened: