The Taste of My Chapstick on Her Lips - Part 4

At Long Last - Girlfriends! (The Taste of My Chapstick on Her Lips - Part 4) No-Nudity WLW Fiction by Faerie Realm This blog continues the story from: https://budgetpixel.com/blog/the-taste-of-my-chapstick-on-her-lips-part-3 Two days after Katrina's unexpected visit just before Christmas, she finally found the nerve to call Richard and firmly decline his offer of engagement. Even though he was both handsome and rich (he came from a posh family, just like Katrina), his offer of marriage somehow made her realize that she was living a life others wanted for her, not the life she wanted for herself. I sat next to Katrina and held her hand as she dialed Richard. She put me on speakerphone, so I could hear both sides of the conversation. "You're a good guy, Rich," she told him. "I just don't want to spend the rest of my life with you." "I don't understand," came Richard's voice from the phone. "Is there someone else?" She looked at me with guilty eyes, and I shook my head and mouthed, "Say no." "No, I swear you're the only guy in my life." "Then why, Katrina? I thought you were happy. Don't you love shopping and eating at fancy restaurants? I can give you that for the rest of your life." Katrina's brow furrowed so I squeezed her hand to reassure her. Rich continued: "And it's more than just fancy dining. What about the vacations we take? And I swear you won't have to work a day in your life." "But what if I want to achieve something myself?" she asked him. "I want to have something to be proud of on my own." "You'd have me," he said, and that's when I felt her hand tighten and her expression harden. "I want more than that, Rich. I'm sorry, but it's time to stop seeing each other." He tried to convince her otherwise for another half hour, but I held her hand tightly, she remained resolute, and eventually the deed was done. She exhaled as soon as she pressed the End button on her phone. "You okay, Kat?" I asked. "I won't lie, most girls would jump at his offer." "Would you?" "No." "Exactly. And you said I shouldn't be someone's trophy wife, right?" "Definitely not!" I exclaimed. Her look of exhaustion evaporated, replaced by a mischievous smile. "And you know what else this means, don't you?" she asked. "You won't get to meet Rishi Sunak?" "Well that, too," she said with a laugh. But then she leaned towards me and whispered in my ear: "It means you're no longer the other woman." "I was never the other woman!" I said with mock indignation. "At least not completely!" For two days, ever since our drunken make-out session on my couch the day she'd arrived, I'd steadfastly held the line at second base (by the American definition, meaning nothing below the waist), declaring that I didn't want to be the 'other woman' while she was technically still with Richard. That was just an excuse, though. In reality, and I would never have admitted this to her, I'd been very worried she would change her mind and go back to Richard, and I didn't want to experience the 'Big O' with her and then have my heart broken again. After all, one does round the bases, generally speaking, without achieving that glorious release of bonding hormones that come with the Big O. It was hard enough moving on from Katrina during my first year in university, when she had first started dating Richard, and we had only kissed (first base!) up to that point. But if I were to actually go all the way with her and then she went back to him? I would have been an emotional wreck for months to come. How did I know this? Because even after I'd caught my bartender-ex cheating, literally in my own bed, I still cried and thought of him for weeks afterward... such is the power of the Big O. So no, I wasn't going to risk emotional devastation by going past second base with Katrina, no matter how much I wanted to, while she was still with Richard. But now, for the first time in years, she was officially sans boyfriend, and I suddenly felt flush at the realization that there was nothing holding us back. "Do you remember you used to tickle me at Wycombe?" she asked, and I immediately flashed back to one of our many teenage tickle sessions. From her demure smile, I knew what Katrina was really asking for: physical contact. She'd always been too proper and reserved to make any first moves herself; hence, her roundabout way of requesting a kiss: "What flavor chapstick are you wearing?" I wondered if reminding me of our tickle sessions would become her way of letting me know she wanted my touch. "Promise me you won't dump me and go back to Richard in a month?" I asked, taking her hand and hooking her pinky with mine. "I won't go back to him ever," she declared, shaking our hands and sealing our pinky promise. My heart started racing as I scooted closer to her on the couch. In truth, I'd always been more touchy-feely than her, and it had been hard for me to hold the line since she'd arrived. But now that the risk of becoming the other woman had disappeared, there was really no reason to hold back and, with a mischievous smile of my own, I put my hands on her waist and pushed her gently down onto the couch. Alas, the two days she had taken to get up the nerve to call Richard had spanned the weekend, and just as I started to really tickle her, and just as she gave a quiet squeal and began to squirm under my fingers, we both heard the sound of the front door latch. I scrambled to sit up and pull her up as well. I was still smoothing the folds of my dress as the door flung itself open and my roommate, Molly, stepped into the apartment. Molly was a veritable Scottish beauty with a winning smile. She was also extremely early. "Hey Allie!" she shouted and then, noticing Katrina, "And hello, Allie's friend!" "You're back early!" I exclaimed, standing up and hoping my face wasn't too flushed from surprise. "My folks said there's a blizzard coming, so I took an earlier train," she explained. I gave Molly a brief introduction to Katrina, telling her how far back we went but leaving out the fact we were quickly becoming a romantic couple. She then disappeared into her own room of our apartment. As soon as Molly closed her door, I looked at Katrina and giggled, "Well that was close!" But Katrina didn't smile back, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. I changed to a pouty face and looked questioningly at her. "Okay Kat, what's up?" "You said you chose me back at Wycombe," Katrina said, now frowning. "Or was that just the alcohol talking?" "Huh? I may have been drunk, but that was very much true!" "Then why did you introduce me as your friend?" "Hold on. You're okay with people... knowing?" "We didn't hide it at Wycombe, did we?" she asked with an accusing look. I instantly thought back to our carefree teenage days. "But that was different, Kat. We were just kids. Are you sure—" "I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not!" she exclaimed. "Wow, you're really having a Renaissance." "I'm serious, Allie! If we're going to be together, I want us to be open about it." "Even with your parents?!" "Especially with them." I gulped. I'd met her parents, and I wasn't sure that was a good idea. "Unless you're ashamed to be with me?" she continued. "No, not at all!" I shouted, and I meant it. I had no idea how I would act in front of her parents, but I would figure that out later. "Are you sure ?" she pressed. "Quite sure!" I declared. "So, can I call you my girlfriend now?" "Yes, please." I immediately ran to Molly's room, banged on her door, and when she answered with a concerned expression, I blurted it out: "Katrina's my girlfriend! I just wanted you to know that." "Oh, you're bi?" Molly asked with a sweet but surprised smile. But then she switched to a whisper and leaned closer: "I can see why, though. She's gorgeous!" That's not why I like her, I thought to myself. Although it didn't hurt, I had to admit. And just like that, it was official: Katrina was no longer just my BFF, she was my honest-to-goodness girlfriend. I surprised her with kisses the rest of the day, even when Molly was in the room. And I skipped all around the apartment, the happiest I'd been since our time at Wycombe Abbey. As for our first time going all the way, we wouldn't have to wait much longer, and we both became filled with anticipation as evening turned to night. But that is a story for another time... TO BE CONTINUED (in the next blog)