Laura and I had been kind of friends for over two years, but it was only nine months ago that we became lovers. She was nineteen, five years younger than I was, and very beautiful, in a left-field alternative sort of way. When we first met I had thought her wayward and immature; she was too much the teenager, always affecting whatever pose her friends required. She was studying dance and hoped to become professional. The hours she spent each day rehearsing her moves had left her body a minimal bundle of sinews and muscle. She did not quite make five-foot in bare feet; her small frame, short hair, delicate, pretty face, and flat chest gave her an elfin asexuality.
I first found myself giving more time to Laura during the months of her mother's battle with cancer. The final diagnosis had hit Laura hard; she and her mother were very close. Her father had died when she was a child so it had been just the two of them since she was six years old. She put her own career plans on hold and took time out from college in order to nurse her mum. We lived fifty miles apart and I tried to support Laura emotionally with phone calls, emails, and visits at the weekends. She coped alone during the day, and her boyfriend Jason would pitch in when he was not at work. It was six harrowing months for her as she endured the sight of her mother's decline, and learned to ride her own emotional turmoil. I watched from a distance as the carefree girl I knew became a caring and compassionate adult.
It was after her mother's death that we became close. We would sit late into the night and talk; she poured out her feelings to me and I listened and tried to understand. I would be available for her as she told me of childhood incidents and stories from her past. I would hold her when her grief became too much. Over the weeks I became so fond of Laura. I would think of her continually and wish the days away, impatient for the weekend when I would be with her. I did not set out to seduce her, we fell in love and the sex followed.
Our first kiss happened on one such night. She had been talking of her mother and had wetness in her eyes. I had put my lips to her cheek to reassure her with a light kiss and had let my cheek rest against her face. She had unexpectedly turned to me and our mouths had come together. It was a gentle tasting at first, and then we kissed with a need for each other that left me shaking. I can still remember the taste of her tears and the full electric reality of her tongue in my mouth. We broke off and I was embarrassed; I wondered if I had betrayed a trust and had taken advantage of her. But then I saw her eyes and I knew it was more than okay. We leaned into each other again and as we kissed I felt my own eyes fill with tears. We were gentle and lost to each other, there was no longer a world with time and space for us. We said things to each other with our lips and tongues that it was not possible to say with words. I laugh to myself when I think back to that kiss, the contrast of what I was feeling inside and how we must have looked, our faces wet and snotty, strands of my long dark hair adhering to her face
At that time, we were not single women. My partner and Laura's were old friends from University, and we knew each other because of their friendship. Before, and then after Laura's bereavement, we would spend most weekends at Laura and Jason's. They shared a house in Manchester. We had always relished out visits, they gave us the chance to see some city nightlife. Our home was in a rural area of Staffordshire, no clubs or bars there. On our nights out, Laura would try her best to put things behind her, attempting to regain some of her former fun-self. After, back at their flat, we two would stay up and talk. The guys having drank too much would go their beds long before us. Often it was dawn before we let each other get to bed; we would kiss long, neither wanting to release the other as we realised the night was ending. We would part and go up to our sleeping men. We only ever kissed.
And this was our problem, Jason was possessive of her. Most men love to think of their girl in bed with another girl, but not Jason. He was recklessly insecure. If ever he found out about Laura's feeling towards me it would have hurt him so much. She did love him and as long as she was a good girl they were happy together. She had been very flirty a few years past but Jason' reaction to her natural sexiness had meant she'd had to find a place to keep that side of her self hidden away; at least when Jason was around.
Christmas had come and gone and Laura and Jason had decided to throw a house party for New Years Eve and to try and put last year's sadness behind them. They sent invites to all their friends and everyone had promised they would come. Tom and I had driven over in the afternoon to help with the food. By six o'clock that evening everything was prepared. The guys had arranged to pick up a friend from the railway station and were going to buy more drinks on the way back. I knew this was going to the only chance to be alone with Laura for some time.
All afternoon, Laura and I had worked in her small kitchen preparing the food. Our impatience for each other was a high voltage surging between us. Our exchanged glances hinted lascivious thoughts. We lingered close as we chopped and buttered, our bare shoulders touching, my breasts brushing her back as I squeezed by her in the cramped space. I would kiss her neck when it was safe or whisper some delight I had planned for her. We giggled a lot..
