Falling in love with Mary – 01

I quickly walked out of the room and into the kitchen, gasping for breath and trying to calm down. I needed something to focus on, other than the images tearing through my head, and began opening drawers and cupboards in search of something I knew I wouldn’t find in my kitchen… a way to keep myself from falling into you.

“I’m sorry,” your soft voice came from behind me, in the doorway. Turning around slowly, I met your eyes in the darkness.

“Don’t be.” The ache to kiss you was so strong, it was ripping me apart.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

Were we online, our usual carefree banter would have had me saying “You haven’t cum…yet,” and as this pops into my mind, the realization that I can’t say that to you now, here, just a few feet from your arms, also enters my thoughts. So instead I opt for sentiment rather than sex. “Of course you should have. It’s meant so much to me — and I love having you here, Mary. You know I do.”

I let my gaze travel out of the kitchen window across the back field, searching for something else to say. I could see the lake out back, glittering like mercury in the light of the full moon. More of a pond, I suppose, I checked myself; but it’s still my own natural swimming pool. All at once, a cold swim sounded like the very thing I needed. To clear my body of this burning need for you; to clear my head of these agonizing thoughts of you; to stop my heart from running to your hands once and for all. I returned my gaze to your sweet eyes and smiled. “We’re big girls,”

I said quietly, “we can do this. Even if you do look absolutely fetching in your boxer shorts.” I turned around to close the cupboard behind me. “I am, however, going to go for a swim in the lake — pond, out back,” I said to you, over my shoulder. “Need a bit of an immersion tonight, I think. Do you need anything before I go?”

I turned back around to face you in the darkness, and saw you begin to say something, stop, and shake your head. You remained in the doorway, and it quickly became apparent to me that you weren’t going to move; I was going to have to walk right past you, my body brushing against yours, in order to leave the room. The thought made my heart beat faster, and I knew if you reached out and so much as touched my arm as I walked past, there’d be no hope of behaving myself. But as I crossed the room, and moved slowly past your body, you kept your hands — if not your eyes — to yourself.

Women are so strange, and I am one of the strangest; because even though I had laid down the rules, even though I had been praying you wouldn’t reach out to me as I walked past, I still felt the unmistakable sensation of sadness, disappointment and hurt that you kept your hands to your sides. Maybe that is why I did what I did next. I turned immediately for the front door and called out that I would see you in the morning. “Don’t you need a bathing suit?” You asked. Turning slowly, I smiled at you. “Won’t be wearing one, hon. Cool water feels best on naked skin.”

Unfair, I know. You can cry foul till the cows come home — although mine already are home — but I can’t say that I’m sorry. And I don’t think you really are, either.

I let the door bang shut behind me, smiling wickedly as I trotted down the front steps and turned to walk around the house. The heat of the day still lingered all around me, even though night had control of the skies. Following the path lit up by the moonlight, I sang to myself as I closed the distance to the pond. When Lynn and I were still married, she had told me that my voice sounded like silver angels; for some reason, that made sense. I thought about her briefly as I shed my clothes at the edge of the pond. I still loved her, in many ways. But we were far better off apart than together.

The water, as always, and as it never fails to baffle me, was intensely cold, no matter the heat of the day. I fought against the trepidation and doubt. “Do not go quietly into that good freezing-ass water,” I prepared myself. Taking a deep breath, I fell forward, letting the baptism surround my flesh and soul. I turned around beneath the skin of the water, and shot upwards to break the surface, smoothing my long hair out of my face.

I felt the heat, both weather-related and you-related, slowly begin to seep from my body as I swam slowly across the length and breadth of the pond. Flipping onto my back, I sighed as the quiet night wind rippled across the water, my face, and my breasts. A splash came from my right, and I slowly swam away from it. I didn’t want to have my serenity broken by an errant fish. All at once my body was grabbed and pulled, and even though one little firing synapse in my brain said, “Don’t worry, it has to be Mary,” the rest of the firing synapses made my yelp like a little girl.

“Wow. You really have turned femme,” you teased, your eyes smiling at me.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I laughed nervously.

“I can see that.” For a moment you just stared at me, I could feel the heat of your eyes even though I was looking down at the water. You were naked; your wet skin was glistening in the night. Suddenly my chest felt tight and constricted. “I have to tell you something,” you said, your voice grave and serious.

“Yes?”

“To hell with your rule.” You pulled me closer against you, and I moaned as my breasts pressed against yours, your arms wrapping around my waist. You kissed me…. oh God, you kissed me. I began to shake uncontrollably with the thrill of finally, at last, feeling your mouth, your lips, your tongue making love with mine. Feeling you pull away, I whimpered in protest. “Are you cold?” You asked, suddenly concerned and tender where before you were fierce and wanting.

“What?”

“You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

I blinked at you in confusion. Well, in every life, a little reality must fall. I started laughing. “Here we are, in some scene straight out of a lesbian romance novel, complete with moonlight and skinny-dipping, and you turn all maternal,” I teased. “I’m not cold.”

“No?” Your voice had regained some of its earlier ferocity, making me shiver again.

“No,” I breathed, which became a sharp gasp as I felt your hand encircle my breast, thumb and forefinger running over my nipple and teasing it in excruciating delight. “Mary…”

“You have a choice,” you said, your words almost a growl. “I can take you here, in this lake, standing; or I can take you in your home, in your bed. Either way, you’re mine tonight. Either way, I’m finally going to see if you really can take my desires and needs.”

I felt my knees go weak. Now is not the time to turn Damsel-in-Distress and go all femmy, I told my knees to make them straighten up. I met your gaze, unflinching. “Home. Bed.” Was just about all I could manage to say.

“You first,” you grinned impishly, indicating that I was to start walking back to the house.

Fine, baby; I said to myself as I turned back for the bank; you want a show, I’ll give you a show. Slowly I rose from the water and turned around to face you, letting you see as much of my moonlight-kissed flesh as you wanted. With a smile I began the walk back across the field, letting my hips sway as I strolled.

Once back at the house, I switched on a lamp in the living room to give you light when you came in; but I didn’t linger. I was already upstairs in the bedroom when I heard the front door shut behind you. You didn’t call out to me. You didn’t have to. I heard you climbing the stairs, and I walked to the window to pull it shut.