The Taste of My Chapstick on Her Lips - Part 5

An Intimate Moment Before the Storm (The Taste of My Chapstick on Her Lips - Part 5) Hint-of-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-4 After skipping around the apartment in an almost giddy state of excitement for much of the afternoon, I eventually settled down enough to prepare dinner for Katrina and my flatmate, Molly. Outside our apartment, the blizzard Molly's parents had warned about finally arrived, casting a white veil upon our windows, but inside it was warm and festive. Molly had many questions over dinner: How long had Katrina and I been together? (Me: "Not long." Katrina: "But also for most of our lives." Which I thought was a very sweet thing for her to say.) Who made the first move? (Katrina: "Allie, definitely!" Which she followed up with a recounting of our teenage Duke of Edinburgh expedition when I first kissed her.) What do our parents think? (Katrina and me together: "We haven't told them yet.") We drank champagne to celebrate the imminent start to winter break and then retired to our respective rooms. The champagne had given me a buzz, and so I probably overreacted when Katrina emerged from the shower, but I couldn't help myself. Instead of coming out in pajamas as she had the previous two nights and all throughout high school, she emerged with only a medium-sized towel wrapped around her midsection, causing my eyes to widen and my jaw to drop. I probably gasped as well. As my gaze slowly meandered over her bare skin, though, I noticed something else that jarred me out of my daze: She still had her makeup on! "Wait, how the heck did you not mess up your makeup in the shower?" I asked. "By being very careful." "Okay, but why would you do that?" "Isn't it obvious?" "No. Not at all." "Tonight is special. I want to look pretty for you." "Are you kidding me?!" I practically laughed. "I've thought you were pretty since we were twelve, and neither of us wore makeup back then!" "But that was years ago, and maybe you don't think so anymore." "You can't be serious! How can you even think that— Wait, is this Richard's doing?" "What do you mean?" "You said he only noticed you when you dressed up, right?" "Well, what else do I have to offer?" "Oh my god," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "He really did a number on you, Kat! Come here." I patted the spot on the bed next to me, and she obliged. I put my hand on hers and squeezed earnestly. "Listen to me: You're the smartest person I know," I said as she looked down and shook her head. "I'm serious, Kat! You got straight As at Godstowe and Wycombe, you aced all your A-levels, and you got into Imperial, which is better than Oxford these days. You already have your B.Sc. and you're about to get your M.Sc. in economics! You're incredible!" She bit her lip, then brought a hand up to dab at her eyes, which were moistening. "Sorry if I cry again," she murmured. "It's okay, you can cry anytime you like," I said, putting my arm around her shoulders. "Really? Because Richard always called me emotional. And I don't think he ever called me smart." "Okay, I see I have my work cut out to undo the damage he did." "Good luck with that," she mumbled. "I spent three years with the guy." "Challenge accepted! Let's see, Dick is a shortened version of Richard, right? So I'm going to call this the effort to undo the damage of Dick. I don't really like Dick anymore, and you should forget about Dick, too." Katrina laughed at my terrible pun, then wiped her eyes again. "Okay, no more Dick," she said, nodding in agreement. "There you go! Humor is therapy, right?" "If that's true, you're going to be a great therapist," she murmured. She brought her face close to mine, but then stopped. "Hey, now that we're officially girlfriends, can I just kiss you instead of asking about your chapstick?" "You could always just kiss me," I said with a laugh, closing my eyes and puckering my lips for her. "Although," she added, "if you want to tickle me, that might be nice since we were interrupted earlier." "Oh, you want to kiss and tickle at the same time?" I asked, opening my eyes and batting my lashes at her with mock indignation. "How very scandalous!" She laughed, then leaned in to kiss me. I didn't even wait for our tongues to meet before placing my hands on her waist. She pressed closer to me but I only tickled her for a few seconds, because I knew that's not what she was really looking for. For a moment, I kept my hands still, enjoying the way she pressed herself against me, as if trying to will me to continue. Then, when I could sense her frustration at my lack of motion, I slipped one hand under her towel, gave a quick tug and felt the towel fall away. She gave a brief gasp of surprise, but didn't try to cover up again, instead reaching out to wrap her fingers around my neck and gently pull me down to the bed next to her. It wasn't long before she had me in a similar state of undress, but this is where we fade to black, because I don't want this journal entry to get slapped with a Mature rating! Rest assured, though, this is when—after a dozen years of knowing each other—we finally rounded all the bases and made our way home to the Big O. Did we fumble a bit on our way there? Yes, I won't deny it; after all, this was our first time with each other, and our first time with a same-sex partner. But honestly, the fumbling is part of the charm of any first time, and our laughter bridged any awkwardness before transforming into the sounds more commonly associated with passion. * * * Sometime during the night, I awoke when Katrina stirred in my arms. I kissed the top of her head and pulled the blanket up over her bare shoulders so she wouldn't get cold as the snow continued to patter against the white veil of our bedroom window. She looked up at me with a dreamy smile. "We never did this at Wycombe," she murmured. "Yeah, we're definitely not kids anymore," I said with a giggle. "I liked being a kid with you, though. Can I spend Christmas with you?" "Sure! My folks would love to see you again." "But first, can we stop by my place?" I took a deep breath and tried not to shudder. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Kat?" I asked, flashing back to one of the earliest times I'd visited her home in Holland Park. I'd made the mistake of showing up in my dirty gardening clothes, and even though I'd brought flowers picked with my own hands from my own backyard, Katrina's parents were not amused. In fact, they were quite possibly the most unamused, humorless people I'd ever met, and that didn't change one bit over the years. "Look, I know how you feel about my parents, and I don't blame you," Katrina said. "But this is it. If they can't accept the real me, then I want a clean break from them. I'm not pretending anymore!" "Okay then," I replied, taking another deep breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell them before," Katrina added. "And I'm sorry it took me so long to figure myself out." "You don't have to apologize, Kat. I actually like this Renaissance you're having, because it's important for us girls to be strong and assertive, too, just like guys. I mean, I'm terrified of your parents, but I like that you want to stand up for yourself." "You mean that, Allie? You don't mind if I'm assertive?" "Of course not! Why would you even— Oh, right. Listen, you really need to forget about Dick." For a moment, she didn't say anything, but from her faraway look, I could tell she was taking my advice to heart. Eventually her eyes focused again, she smiled shyly and shifted under the blanket until she was straddling me. "Okay, I hereby assert," she murmured, cradling my face and neck in her hands, "that I'm going to tickle you again." "You can tickle me anytime you want," I whispered as my heart began to beat faster. And then I wrapped my arms around her as we kissed and began again. No matter how dimly her parents might view my presence in her life—and it would be very dim indeed—I felt secure in the knowledge that our bond was strong enough to weather their disapproval. Such is the power of the Big O, after all, and I surrendered myself fully to its effects. TO BE CONTINUED (in the next journal entry)