After I finally split with my womanising boyfriend I moved into a large Victorian house that had been turned into a number of small apartments. It seemed that they were mostly occupied by single woman, but with the mood I was in then I only saw that as a plus. My apartment is best described as 'okay', a bit small, but then there was only me, and somewhat oddly proportioned because of its earlier life, but it was handy for shopping and convenient for work and so I figured it would do nicely.
As I was busy moving in a woman from an apartment down the hall came out to welcome me with an offer of a coffee, which I thought was nice.
'Hi.' She said. 'I'm Cara and I guess you're my new neighbour. I bet you haven't got everything working yet, so would you like a coffee, I've just made a pot?'
'Thanks, yes, I'd love one.' I brushed wayward hair out of my eyes and looked around at a tall, beautiful blonde. 'And I'm Alison.'
She was right, I hadn't got my coffee pot working yet and I felt the need of a break. She was maybe fifteen or twenty years older than me, somewhere in her early forties, but that didn't seem to matter, we were soon chatting away as if we'd known each other for years. Eventually, after an hour that seemed to fly by, I had to excuse myself and carry on with my move, though I genuinely felt reluctant to get up. Cara seemed disappointed that I couldn't stay longer and extracted a promise to call around to see her again as soon as I could. It never occurred to me at the time that there was any ulterior motive behind her friendliness.
It was a few days before I got the chance to pay a return visit, and then only because when I came home a note through my door informed me that a parcel had been delivered when I was out and it had been left with her. I grabbed a quick sandwich and went round to see if it was the set of tablemats that I'd ordered.
'You've got a brilliant sense of timing.' She told me as she hooked an arm over my shoulders and ushered me down the hall, past a stand with a tablemat shaped package on it. 'I've just opened a bottle of wine so now we can share it and welcome you properly.'
It was perhaps a bit presumptuous, but I didn't really mind because I'd enjoyed her company so much the last time.
She guided me into a seat at one end of a cream leather sofa and then disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me looking around a wonderfully uncluttered lounge, not a bit like my untidy place. On a table to one side stood an open bottle of red wine and one half full glass, so I guess she was telling the truth about the wine, even though I did wonder about it later on.
A minute or so later she reappeared carrying another glass, which she filled and held out to me. Our hands touched as I took it, and it seemed that maybe she held on just a second or so too long, but again I thought nothing of it. What I did wonder about was why she went to stand behind the sofa without taking her own glass. I was soon to find out.
'You have lovely hair.' She said, reaching over the sofa back and playing idly with my long dark tresses. 'I think I prefer brunette.' Her hand rested momentarily on my shoulder as she played.
'Thank you.' I replied, wondering about the frisson of pleasure her touch had provoked. 'I always wanted to be blonde like you.'
'Oh no, Alison.' She exclaimed, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder again. I was wearing a singlet style top and her fingers felt warm on my skin 'With eyes as dark as yours blonde would look all wrong.'
I didn't reply and she stood silently behind me, her hand cupping my shoulder before very softly and gently wandering down my arm as far as she could reach. It felt good, but a little confusing because I wasn't sure what had made her want to stroke me like that.
'Your skin is lovely too.' She spoke softly, still running gentle fingertips along my arm. 'Oh, to have young skin like yours.'
'Thank you.' I answered again, any doubts calmed by the compliment. I changed my glass to my free hand to take a sip from my wine.
'Nice?' She asked.
I wasn't sure if she meant the wine or the touch of her fingers on my skin, but it was true of both although I couldn't understand why she was stroking my arm.
'Yes.' I told her, taking another sip of wine in an attempt to show I was answering for that rather than for the feel of her fingers.
I felt rather than saw her smile knowingly and her hand went back to my shoulder, gently pushing my hair out of the way so that her fingertips could caress my neck. It made me shudder with pleasure, and I think she realised it because she pushed my hair further out of the way and quickly bent down to plant a tiny kiss on the nape of my neck. That kiss, just a tiny touch of her lips, set the alarm bells ringing, but it felt so nice. It was the first sign of affection that anyone had shown me since before I'd caught my ex texting his latest conquest. Without thinking I bent my head forward, inviting more, but Cara simply chuckled and walked around the sofa to come and sit beside me.
'Drink your wine.' She instructed me calmly, totally ignoring what had just happened.
Confused and slightly anxious I quietly obeyed, downing the rest of the wine and then sitting for a short while with the empty glass in my hand before I suddenly realised and leaned over to put it on the table.
When I sat back she twisted in her seat to face me, reaching out with her hand to start again stroking my arm with the back of her fingers. I sat staring straight ahead with my hands on my knees and my heart beginning to beat faster and louder. I knew now what was happening, but I felt like a passive onlooker who could do nothing to stop it - nor wanted to. It was as if all I could do was to let it happen. I'd never had a woman come on to me before and she was stirring uncomfortable feelings that I didn't know I had.