A Day in the Life

Just an ordinary day; when lives intertwine and stuff happens...I hope you enjoy it!

ColdCat xxx

(With many, many thanks to my travelling friend.)

A Day in the Life

Sam found herself waking early and for a while enjoyed the misty transfer from oblivion to consciousness. She flipped from her usual position flat on her tummy, and curved towards the sleepy body next to her, moulding herself comfortably into Nasri's back. She smiled when she heard the drowsy mumble and buried her face into her lover's luxurious soft curls. Sam's arm crept over Nasri's body and curled protectively around her middle. Life was good.

Nasreen Saadi stirred when she felt Sam snuggle up to her back and smiled sleepily as she felt a hand slide over and come to a rest on her tummy. She loved Sunday mornings, especially the ones where Sam wasn't rushing off to work, and today she was looking forward to a long restful lie in. The hand curled tenderly on her tummy tickled and as usual she felt the beginnings of desire start to tingle. She covered Sam's hand with her own and pulled it up to cover one of her own bountiful breasts, feeling her nipple harden as her lover's warm hand closed over her.

'Mmmmmmmmm, good morning beautiful.' Sam's words were muffled by Nasri's hair and her body pressed harder against her back as she felt the warm breast leap to life beneath her touch.

Nasreen didn't answer but her bum pushed back into Sam's hips as she once again took her lover's hand and this time brought the fingers to her lips, kissing them lightly before returning it to her breast. But she sighed as Sam caressed lightly, enjoying the familiarity of fingers tracing along her cleavage and the knowing possession of her nipples.

Sam could feel the sexual tension building in Nasri and decided to tease a little,

'Feeling sleepy darling?'

Again no words, but an almost unperceivable shake of the head and a sharp intake of breath as Sam rolled a slightly more engorged nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

'Shall I go and make you some coffee?' Sam asked helpfully, smiling when Nasri again grabbed her hand tightly and began to push it down to rest on the tight curls between her legs.

'Ohhh...well that clears that up,' Sam murmured, running her fingers thru tight pubic curls, pulling and teasing.

Sam's fingers explored slowly, tracing over Nasreen's inner thighs and plump mons. With a sigh Nas lifted her right leg slightly and hooked it backwards, resting her foot behind Sam's knee, leaving herself wide open to probing fingers; her invitation obvious. Sam needed no further encouragement and she delighted to feel how wet her lover had become as she stroked along her swollen lips.

As she continued to fondle Nasri's delightfully slick pussy Sam wriggled her left arm under Nasreen so that when it emerged it was able to grasp her lovers breast, knowing that the double stimulation was always much appreciated. The response was immediate as she felt her companion begin to rock her hips, finally breaking her silence.

'God Sam, you make me feel so good...so good.'

Nasreen's voice, even thick with desire, was beautifully modulated. A rich chocolaty velvet voice formed in the best private schools and honed in court. It had captivated Sam when she had first heard it and still thrilled her. She began to rub a little faster and squeezed the rigid nipple a little harder; her secret delight was to hear Nasri's stunningly cultured voice cry out in excitement,

'Sam, oh fuck...oh fuck Sam, I'm coming...'

Nasreen exploded and bucked endlessly, crying out her pleasure and when she came back to planet earth, Sam held her tight.

'I want to touch you too,' Nasri whispered,

'Go back to sleep.'

'No.'

'Yes...later, I love you, go back to sleep.'

'Ok.'

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Later came as Sam was struggling to wake for a second time that morning. In her dream she was swimming in a warm pool; but the water was running over her, touching her, caressing her and she found herself desperately seeking source of the pleasure. She awoke and became aware, again on her tummy, seconds before her orgasm hit hard and strong. It was fabulous and shocking and totally unexpected and she found herself screaming out into the soft pillows.

Sam turned and saw Nasreen leaning over her, a wicked grin on her face.

'Wow darling, that was loud.'

'What did you do to me?'

'Something good I suspect, are you ok?'

'Yes...no...I don't know.'

And Sam didn't know; she felt edgy and wired with a pressure building up inside of her. She felt impossibly horny. That was it. She shrugged helplessly,

'Oh Nas, I think...I think I want more.'

Nasreen laughed her deep, glorious, sexy chuckle. 'Oh dear no, we can't have that, not in the state you're in.'

Sam watched with dismay as her lover climbed off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. She lay back, closed her eyes and breathed deeply; frustrated, almost confused as she listened to the water running in the adjoining room. The bed dipped slightly as Nasreen climbed back on, peeling the covers off and spreading Sam's legs.

'You're all messy my love, let me help you with that.'

The cloth was wet and very warm and Nasreen rubbed it carefully along Sam's inner thighs and gently wiped between her legs. The thrill was instant; the soothing warmth on her swollen excited flesh followed by a chill as the morning air quickly cooled the moisture on her skin

Sam shivered, not sure if it was the cold or her excitement, 'Nasri, that's cold.'

'I know darling, I'll warm you up don't worry.'

Sam whimpered powerlessly as Nasri bent over her. The warmth of her mouth seemed to almost burn on Sam's chilled flesh; her hot tongue burrowed deeply inside her making her feel as though she were melting. Nasreen took her time, she always did. She had once told Sam that she was savouring her; Sam loved how that sounded and she adored how it felt...she was being savoured! This time she felt all of it; every lick and swipe of her lover's tongue, every suck of her lips. The build up was intense and Sam felt her thighs tremble as she allowed Nasri's mouth to tease and excite.

Sam experienced a series of wild sensations; warm trembling shudders in her belly and legs and breasts. They built and built but soon the feelings started to coalesce; to focus down onto the part of her body claimed by Nasri's mouth. For a long moment nothing else in the world existed for her, a plateau of pleasure, before she lost control; back arching as heat burst inside of her. Clever Nasri, beautiful clever Nasri coaxed and cajoled more and more until she felt she could bear no more, but not bear it to stop. At last she felt herself released, and slumped, utterly sated back onto the bed.

Sam lay panting and gasping and trying to recover her fractured senses as Nasri kissed her way slowly up her body.

'I'm hungry, are you hungry? I feel like toast and fresh coffee, how does that sound?'

Sam could only nod her acquiescence and gave her sexy lopsided grin that Nasreen adored so much. She watched Nas settle into a robe and start out of the room before she leaned up on her elbows and spoke softly,

'Nasri, I love you.'

Nasreen turned and saw her lover propped up on the bed. Long and lean, with her short hair messy from sleep and her face happy and flushed; she felt her heart lurch. Quickly she crossed the room and kissed Samantha hard on the mouth before hugging her tightly.

'Wow, what did I say?'

'Just the right thing darling.'

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The two women shared a companionable breakfast in bed. Completely at ease with each other they cuddled and munched toast and planned their day.

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Nasreen Saadi was a first generation Englishwoman of Pakistani decent. Her father had taken British nationality in his mid 30's; he was wealthy and powerful in his field and had proudly given his four children the best education money could buy. Nasreen was the eldest and the only girl and her father had indulged her desire to practise Law in a way that belied his own strict upbringing. Her brothers, all doctors, had followed their father, had all married the 'right' girls and were all adept at toeing the line. But Nasreen had forged her own path. She was quite young when she had decided that men held no interest for her; she had politely declined to meet with the young men presented to her by her parents and had worked hard to overcome the prejudices set against her as a Asian woman in a world dominated by what might be defined as 'the old boys club'. She was a barrister; she worked hard and was good at what she did.

She was a gorgeous woman. Of medium height with pale skin inherited from her Iranian grandmother and glossy dark hair, she turned heads. She had a full figure, and in her expensive clothes she exuded a classy curvaceous elegance. With the wig and gown she wore on court days paired with a sombre suit, Nasreen Saadi was an imposing figure.

She had always been careful with the women she dated. She kept her private life strictly private. It pained her that her family and her father in particular struggled to accept her sexuality and so she maintained a tactful distance. But she wondered after a number of failed and disappointing relationships whether she would ever fall in love; and that all changed when she met Samantha Bentham.

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Sam Bentham had a completely different upbringing. Born in the North of England in a large working class family she had married young. She had given up work when her husband's construction business had taken off and was soon discreetly all but running the company. Babies followed quickly, a boy and a girl and before long her life was lost in a whirl of work and kids and finance. All safely negotiated from behind closed doors; the perfect backroom worker.

She was tall and naturally athletic and loved to run. The only moments of the day she felt completely herself were when she was pounding the roads around her neighbourhood plugged into her music or sitting quietly watching her children sleep. She was attractive although she didn't realise it and stuffed her long lovely figure into shapeless clothes, because no one seemed to care how she looked, and restlessly got on with her life.

Then one day she woke up to find that her children were grown and had left home to study at Uni and her husband of 25 years had left her for a younger model. Even worse, the business that had prospered due to her diligence behind the scenes was failing in an economic crisis that seemed endless.

She took 8 months to pull herself together. She asked for and was given a divorce and she took what money she could and started a new life. She took a look at herself and decided on a change; her hair was styled short and funky and her jeans became low cut to show off her great ass. She did these things for herself, no one else. Sam decided to study garden design part time and took a job at a nearby garden centre to gain experience and pay the bills; and that was where she met Nasri.

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Nasreen may have been a demon in the courts but she was lost amongst plants. The long straight rows of greenery were alien to her. Samantha saved her. Sam had seen her come in and was shocked to discover that she thought Nasri was the most gorgeous woman she had ever set eyes on. It wasn't just her looks or her voice, rich and lovely though it certainly was, but her whole persona; confident and sure.

It worked both ways. Nasreen was bowled over by the tall lithe woman in front of her, with her easy walk and funky look and that dazzling smile. She knew without doubt that this was a woman she wanted to get to know and was suddenly nervous as she wondered how to make it happen. Several weekends and many purchases later and she had finally plucked up the courage to ask her out for coffee.

Sam had known immediately that she was being asked out on a date. She hadn't the slightest inclination to decline despite the fact that she had never even considered a relationship with another woman as remotely possible. 3 years had passed since then, and Sam had not regretted a single day.

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Nasreen and Sam had a Sunday habit. Regardless of the weather and, as long as Sam wasn't working, they would drive down to the local seaside town and take a stroll along the promenade. They had worn every conceivable mixture of clothing over the years to cope with varying weather; in fact dressing for the occasion was part of the delight.

Today was cold and windy but bright and the two were bundled up in coats and scarves and gloves as they walked. They did not hold hands exactly, they had some unwritten rule about that, but they could never walk without actually touching each other. With the wind blowing in from the sea the two women had linked arms and were walking leaning very close to each other, their heads touching, and every now and again Sam would feel Nasri's hair whip across her face.

As usual they always found something to talk about; the white tipped waves as far as the eye could see, the young sea bird flapping madly just to maintain a position, the old girl on her usual bench chatting to the pigeons. Both women enjoyed the familiarity of the walk and each other as well as the new sights they encountered each time.

Charlie Poulter watched as the two women approached. They were regular customers of his and he appreciated their routine especially in the low season when the prom was usually deserted. They always looked so comfortable in each other's company and he wondered what brought them together so often on a Sunday. Maybe their husbands played golf together, or the kids went to Sunday school nearby. In all his considerations he never once imagined the two women were lovers.

Charlie was sick. His heart was severely damaged and he was on a transplant list but didn't hold out much hope. He knew his life might be shortened and as such he let his imagination run riot occasionally. As the women approached he began to imagine which of the pair he would prefer to ask out; the glamorous Asian lady with all her thick wavy hair, or the tall sexy one with her never ending legs and lovely smile. Almost in the same thought he imagined his wife, the one true love of his life, busy at home preparing the family dinner and he smiled at his own foolishness.

'Morning ladies, two teas is it?'

'Yes please.'

'You're a brave pair, coming out in this weather.'

'We couldn't miss an opportunity to see you Charlie, you know that.'

Charlie beamed.

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Sam wasn't beaming later that day. Her guts were clenched and her nerves were pushing her pulse rate up.

'Samantha please relax, it's just dinner.'

'It's just dinner...with your parents!'

'But it will be fine, try and calm down, go and design a garden or something.'

Sam sighed, 'a garden is a thing of beauty; the only thing I could design right now would be post apocalyptic.'

'Oh very funny, funny girl.'

'I'll go for a run.'

Nasreen captured her lover's face between her hands, 'ok, be careful.'

Sam ran slowly, her thoughts on Nasri, who wasn't as calm as she pretended to be. But as she ran she began to relax and as she relaxed she began to think of her daughter.

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Grace Bentham flopped heavily onto her sofa, her exhaustion both physical and mental. She had just completed a double shift in the Accident and Emergency department, including the dreaded Saturday night 'run'. She could literally smell the heady mix of booze and puke lingering about her. It was time for a shower.

As Grace stood and allowed the water to beat down on her, washing away the tiredness, ache's and smells that seemed to go with being a junior doctor, she thought of her mum. She smiled to think of how nervous and edgy she became when she was about to play hostess to Nasreen's parents.

It had taken Grace many months to get over her father's infidelity; somehow she had felt her mother had deserved better. And yet, she had known he would go; her mum did nothing to make the best of herself, almost becoming lost against a background of work. She knew her parents loved both her and her brother, she was sad when they split up but she was totally shocked and horrified when she first realised her mother had started a relationship – with another woman!

Grace cringed slightly when she remembered her first immature handling of the situation; how she had rather selfishly panicked about what own friends might think about her 'gay' mother. Secretly she had rather envied her younger brothers carefree attitude, 'Whathefuck Gracie, if she's happy?!'

But Nasreen was lovely; attractive, confident, funny as hell and hard to dislike. Grace could see what had attracted her mum, and slowly her own self-centred attitude began to change.

When Adam, her brother, had graduated it had become something of a family drama as to whether Nasreen would attend the ceremony. Her father and new step-mum were both going and Grace had known her mother would rather not cause any kind of a scene. It was she who had persuaded her mum that it would be fine.

Grace had felt a strange kind of pride seeing the two women together. Her mother had changed; become much more confident about the way she looked. Even her walk had altered and she used her full height with a cocky self assurance. Sam had looked fantastic, classy and modern with her new short hair and long leather coat and Grace had been gratified to see Nasreen stand back somehow and allow her mum to take centre stage. Grace realised suddenly that her father had never offered her mum that kind of courtesy and her opinion of Nasreen had soared even higher.

Standing under the steaming water, Grace's thoughts turned to more domestic areas; she desperately needed a job, to find another junior doctor rotation for next month, and things weren't looking good.

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Nasri worked hard in her kitchen preparing a meal she knew her parents would like; lamb slowly cooked with a selection of spices until rich and tender. To keep Sam busy she had tasked her with making dessert and the tall woman had produced a wonderful chocolate torte, something her mother would adore.

She hated the fact that Sam stressed over meeting up with her family. It was very much easier when they met with Samantha's kids and she even managed to hold her own against the ex-husband. Sam was a worrier and her father's rather brittle demeanour did little to help. But Nasri had already decided that change was in the air. It had been her father who had suggested dinner and her mother had cautiously advised her that lately he had begun to grumble that he didn't see his daughter enough. Maybe...just maybe.

With a last check that the dining table was set to her satisfaction she walked up to the bedroom and joined Sam in getting ready for her parents arrival.

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Omar Saadi was not a particularly happy man as he and his wife of 42 years pulled into his daughter's driveway later that day. He loved Nasreen. In her he saw the spirit and drive that had motivated him in his younger years. He thought, however, that he could never be comfortable with the way she had chosen to live her life.

Omar was a cardio-vascular surgeon. He has spent the majority of his life in the UK and considered himself an Englishman. He had maintained his Muslim faith but in a very liberal way, however Nasreen had pushed his limits on many occasions. And now it seemed she had settled down at last, but he found that just as he struggled to accept her sexuality so he struggled to accept her choice of partner.

Omar wondered what it was about him that found his daughter's homosexuality so difficult an issue after so many years. At work he was open-minded enough to accept a person's qualities regardless of gender or sexuality and felt himself a free thinker. On the odd occasion that he had slipped into court to watch his daughter at work he had been delighted at her skills and secretly pleased that she was such an attractive confident woman. Of course, others would think so too, he reminded himself.