Under The Knife 2

This is a story of romance and contains descriptions of F-F sex

"How exactly is this going to further your career or even help the department?" Graham asked, looking up from the flyer.

"Oh come on, Graham. Look at some of the speakers already signed up. There's Monica from Seattle, who I haven't yet met in person. There's the team from Imperial making a presentation. Frankly I think it would be remiss of the department not have a representative. You've been to these conferences and you tell me me how useful they are," Hannah replied indignantly, with just a whine in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Hannah, the department doesn't have the budget for this trip."

"Well, how about I pay for my flight and the university pays for the registration and accommodation? That would only be a few hundred pounds. Maybe £500, tops?"

Graham was her departmental professor and although he didn't write the cheques, his approval was essential for any international travel. Graham was an academic who sifted the results from research around the world to spot trends and patterns in Oceanography. From the university's point of view, he was a safe pair of hands. To young, enthusiastic post-graduates like Hannah, he was a pain in the ass who had to be wooed with logic.

He looked again at the sheaf of information she presented him, chewing the arm of his spectacles as he lent back from his desk.

"I tell you what Hannah. If you can befriend the French crowd and see how they're processing their core sample results, then I can see some merit in this," he finally replied, ignoring her financial bargaining.

"So is that a yes?" Hannah asked suspiciously.

"Is that a yes to wheedling French techniques?"

"Yes. Mais oui."

Graham furrowed his brow at her response and replaced his spectacles. He didn't dislike Hannah, she produced solid research and was a good tutor but she was inclined to be pushy. He wasn't fond of pushy women.

'But if I don't keep her sweet, she might up stakes and move to Imperial College,' he thought to himself.

"Oh I suppose so. Put your budget together, send it to the Vice Chancellor's office and copy me in. The department will look at this favourably," he replied, handing back the papers and returning his concentration to his computer.

"Thanks Graham. I won't let you down," Hannah replied.

"No. You won't." Graham didn't feel he needed to add anything else.

Hannah closed his office door behind her and did a little happy dance. She was going to Bangkok!

* * * * *

Despite the luxury of her hotel room compared to her modest flat back home, Hannah hadn't slept well. She wasn't exactly jet lagged, but new surroundings unsettled her.

She'd found the registration lounge at the end of a long, carpeted atrium. She was checked in and given a conference pass, then the clerk gifted her a carrier bag of goodies, maps, restaurant fliers and tourist invitations to visit every corner of Bangkok. She felt it would be impolite to refuse it, but perhaps she could accidentally leave it at a restaurant table. She didn't really want it.

Her tummy was insisting it was UK supper time and it was only a short wander to find somewhere offering breakfast. Like everywhere in modern Bangkok, the restaurant was airy and bright. There was always a glass water wall cascade, decorated with something garish. In this case it was plastic hummingbirds.

Hannah found herself a table for her fruit breakfast from where she had a view of the lively city and river, busy with express boats and long tail water taxis.

She reflected on her last visit, nearly eight years ago, with her mother. That had been for her gender reassignment surgery, the summer after she'd graduated. They'd stayed for a month for her to recover enough for the long flight back to the UK, seated on a water cushion that attendants kindly swapped for chilled ones. At least the city had not changed, even if she had. Growing through your twenties is a formative time for any woman, changing from skittish youth to mature adult.

She focused on a particular ferry, watching the expert pilotage as it arrived at each stop with a shrill of whistled commands to the driver while passengers alighted as though it were a bus back in London. Matchstick locals and tourists crowded aboard, the mooring ropes flicked clear and off it went upstream, through the milk tea water floating with jetsam. She leaned forward to follow its progress until it disappeared from view behind the window frame.

As she turned back to her coffee, she sensed a face was turned in her direction from another table. To make certain, she gazed out of the window again and raised her hand to rest her chin on her palm. It was a natural sleight of hand to divert attention from her eyes and she made a flicker of a glance in the direction of the other table.

She was right. Someone was looking her way, so she let her fringe fall forward and busied herself with her breakfast and the paperwork she'd brought with her.

"Excuse me, but are you Anna?"

A tall woman, with short dark hair and pale complexion, was standing next to her table. She was fidgeting with her hands, clearly awkward to be asking.

Hannah looked up, relieved it wasn't a man but was immediately puzzled. Hannah was especially bad at putting names to faces, particularly in different circumstances but this attractive woman was someone she wished she could remember.

"'Hannah' but lots of people get it wrong," she corrected. "You must forgive me but I'm hopeless with names and I'm trying to place you. Please, take a seat."

"I'm Eden. We met on a sailing course in that stinky old yacht in the Solent."

"Of course! Wow. What a coincidence! I remember your record for an emergency caesarean was 75 seconds, knife in to baby out." Hannah blurted out with a laugh of recognition as she finally joined the dots.

"Oh my god. Is that what you remember me for?" Eden snorted with a laugh as she settled into the seat opposite Hannah.

They held each other's gaze for just a fraction longer than seemed usual to Hannah, but she didn't mind. With some people that would be unsettling, but now it stirred memories for them both.

"No. Well not just that. The other thing I remember was you sinking four pints of lager in the pub on our last night. You could be forgiven for forgetting that though. That was such a cold week wasn't it?" Hannah kept the mood light.

"Using sea water to thaw the ice on deck? That was a clever trick. Have you done much sailing since?" Eden replied, looking more relaxed.

"Yeah, bits and pieces, when I can. Why not bring your breakfast over here, Eden? This is a real treat to meet you again."

* * * *

The truth went deeper than Hannah cared to admit. There had been four candidates on the week-long course and because Eden and she were the only women, they chose to pair up.

The course was a mix of learning new skills and putting them into practise under the tutelage of an experienced skipper. Students had to demonstrate theory they had previously studied ashore. Planning and plotting a course at sea were essential techniques for which traditional paper charts were required.

They had been set a pilotage exercise and Hannah had been sitting at the navigator's desk where the charts were stored. Eden was leaning on the desk when Hannah reached underneath for a pencil, then dropped its wooden lid back. She hadn't realised Eden's finger had moved and it was trapped under the heavy lid of the plotting table.

Hannah jumped when Eden squealed but at first couldn't understand the cause. It was only when Eden lifted the table lid to free her hand it became clear what had happened. The quick of her finger was bleeding. She had long delicate fingers that she'd kept hidden in gloves because it was so cold, but had pulled them off for this exercise.

Hannah was instantly nauseous through a mixture of guilt and helplessness. She could hardly offer first aid to a doctor of medicine. While Eden was cussing and checking the injury to her finger, Hannah was mute, her own hand at her mouth, her brain whirling with none of the right things to say.

In the great scheme of things, it wasn't a big deal. Hannah supposed that most people would have long since let go of the emotions. Some people on the spectrum can't and are often plagued by the moment forever, and the anxiety of the moment never leaves. Hannah was one of those people, and the sudden giddy sensation in her stomach was its reminder.

Although they had finished the week with hugs of friendship, the memory and guilt of the event often visited Hannah. Perhaps this new meeting with Eden might help set that particular ghost to rest?

* * * *

"So, what brings you to Bangkok, Hannah? Are you here for work?" Eden enquired taking a sip of her drink.

Hannah was soaking up the symmetry of Eden's face and saw a reflex lick of her lips. Just the tip of her tongue. Pink, wet.

"Yes, yes I am," she blurted in reply, the momentary distraction gone. "There's an Oceanographic conference and I'm presenting some of my research, but there's some great speakers and experts here. I'm hoping to do some networking. What about you? Is there a medical one here too?"

"Yup, there's an Obstetrics and Gynae one. I've been before several years ago. I was going to spend a few days here, then slip away to one of the beach resorts. Are you doing the same -- business and pleasure?" Eden smiled, taking another sip. The same reflex lick.

Hannah glanced at Eden's finger to see if there was a scar from the desk accident. She wore no rings, not that it meant anything, but Hannah noticed some dirt under a fingernail, because she didn't wear nail varnish either. Hannah liked people with a little dirt under a nail -- it made them more honest.

Eden wore her dark hair short and with her brown eyes it made her skin seem even more pale. Hannah remembered how tired she'd been on the yacht, with shadows under her eyes. It made her seem vulnerable and that provoked a sense of tenderness towards her, even though Eden must be ten years Hannah's senior.

There was much about Eden that she now recalled but more she wanted to know.

"A ha! Well, you see I have the advantage because beach holidays are also work for me -- every grain of sand has a story to tell. I've no fixed plans, but I'd hoped to do some diving, maybe down in Koh Tao." Hannah replied, with just the itch of a hope in her heart.

"Can I ask, Hannah, are you travelling alone? If you were and wanted some company, I'd really welcome that. You know, bag watching, the single traveller's nightmare, all that. Oh god, forgive me -- I sound very needy don't I?" Eden pulled a mock cringe.

"If you don't ask Eden... That would be awesome. Really? Okay, well let's meet up later and we can swap ideas. No promises, nothing presumed, okay? I'm sure we both deserve some beach time!

"I really ought to check through my presentation this morning, but after that, I've got a flexible timetable."

The two women swapped numbers to arrange dinner and with that Eden rose. As she turned, she trailed her hand, her fingers fluttering a farewell.

Hannah's head buzzed with excitement and she could barely focus on preparing for her talk after Eden left. What she couldn't see was the struggle Eden had to keep a huge smile from her own face as she made her way through the atrium to her conference.

* * * *

Hannah was both exhausted and elated at the end of her presentation. There was a great deal of interest in soft corals and her recent discoveries were proving timely with so much focus on regenerating fish stocks.

Her Thai moderator gave her a traditional bow with clasped hands, then a more familiar hand-hug as the attendees filed out of the hall.

"Please Miss Hannah. Are you attending our dinner this evening for speakers and dignitaries? I can make you a reservation now," the lady asked, brandishing an iPad with a scarlet lipsticked smile.

"Oh, well I would be honoured, Kamlai," Hannah replied. "Can I just check my phone? I had already made an appointment, but let me be sure."

Hannah switched her phone off silent and checked her messages, but there was none from Eden. It had only been a couple of hours since they'd parted and she was probably busy.

"Can I find you in your office Kamlai? I'm sorry but I can't give you a definite answer immediately."

"Of course, no problem. Here is my card and I am in the centre management suite, sixth floor, until later. Sawadee ka!" Kamlai put her pray-hands together under her chin with impeccable manners. In response Hannah awkwardly mirrored her bow and felt suddenly embarrassed, suspecting she'd broken a rule of etiquette.

'Networking, Hannah. This is the business part of the trip. Bugger, I should have accepted. Eden's probably forgotten about me anyway,' Hannah thought to herself as she scooped her paperwork back into the laptop bag.

Leaving the hall, Hannah saw the view outside had melted into a cascade of water pouring down the windows. The sky had darkened and the windows buzzed as thunder rattled the air. She had intended to stretch her legs outside in the park, but all the paths were awash in ankle deep brown water that looked distinctly filthy.

On the next floor up was a balcony lounge so she took the stairs, hoping for some fresh air. Outside the air-conditioned cocoon of the complex, the sudden humidity on the balcony was all enveloping. Only the tropical plants, rooted in concrete pots, seemed at ease, with a sheen of moisture that gathered and rolled in droplets to the tips of their leaves.

Hannah could feel her own sheen making tickles between her breasts and threatening blotches in the pale fabric of her blouse.

A broad shouldered westerner stood unabashed or simply unaware of the sticky letter T in the back of his shirt.

Hannah shuddered as another flash of lightning and a closer growl of thunder made the lights flicker overhead.

It would soon blow through, but until then, Hannah decided to retreat to her hotel room for a shower and snooze.

* * * * *

Hannah's phone chimed as she stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a hotel robe but her hair hanging in wet strands that dripped onto the nape of her neck.

< Dinner at 8pm? There's a decent eatery in walking distance or else a taxi ride elsewhere, Eden x >

< I'll go with your idea -- not familiar with this part of town. Meet by the big yellow hand at 7.30PM? >

< Might be a lotus flower! Cu then >

Hannah noted the 'x' and a familiar song came to mind "Don't delete the kisses"

'I'm typing you a message

That I know I'll never send

Rewriting old excuses

Delete the kisses at the end.'

'Good enough choice,' she thought, and she flicked through her phone to find it. The hotel speakers picked up the signal and filled the room with familiar voices, with home, with music that swirled around her.

Hannah was a crap dancer and she knew it. She avoided dance floors with excuses, but here no one could see. She threw her robe over the gawping mirror and danced naked, her long limbs happy to flail in time as she karaoked word perfect.

As the track finished, she lulled the volume and sat at the dresser with her conference notes, flicking through the pages she'd earmarked on the flight.

The French lot -- she was duty bound to meet them.

Polar pH and corals -- presented by her American colleague, Monica.

Cold water corals and biological structures -- 'Fab topic!'

The fabric of the seat was prickly. Her focus shifted from the page as she became aware of its itch on her bare skin. It reminded her of her nakedness. At home, nakedness after a shower was a shivering rush, save for a couple of weeks in summer, but in Thailand the warmth was like a luxurious soft blanket.

Hannah folded the notes, letting her mind wander and ran her hands along the lacquered table. In the warm air, the pads of her fingers were soft and rubbery on its surface.

A familiar, welcome feeling grew from her tummy and reached into her head and she stepped across to the bed. Reaching into her bag, she took out a tube and squeezed a line of clear gel onto her middle finger. She lay back watching the light catch in the liquid, then closed her eyes and let her hand curl and touch her labia in one slow arc.

Hannah scooted up the bed a little to prop her head on the pillows, cleared her thoughts to see where her imagination would take her. A carousel of images turned in her mind until she stopped on one to consider.

Was she in the mood for another woman or a big strong man? The image she conjured and pondered was a security guard in a hotel she'd once stayed in Barbados. Nothing had happened of course, except she'd held her breath and her heart thudded when he'd smiled and held a door open for her.

She sank to her knees in front of him as he ran his fingers through her hair, untying the bow to let her hair tickle her shoulders. He moved a hand to unzip his shorts, but she was already there. He felt the cool of the young woman's hand slide under his scrotum then lift his rigid cock free.

Hannah's hand was making a slow rhythmical path through her labia, andante con lento; the same speed that her hand now grasped the thin sheath of skin and the thick vein of his penis, like a python writhing down its length. She'd struggle to fit his shiny purple head into her mouth or even...

Her phone vibrated suddenly on the bedside table in long bursts like an angry fly trapped in a shutter.

"Fuck!" she muttered to herself, the spell broken. The vision of black cock in her pale fingers evaporated from her imagination, popped like a bubble in the air.

She reached across to the intruder, her fingers still slippery.

"Oh hi, Eden. That was quick. Wassup?" Hannah spoke breezily with a smile in her voice.

"Hi Hannah. Sorry, this meal tonight? There are some people who'll be joining us. I hope you don't mind? We can firm up that beach trip over dinner, but these are colleagues from Australia I haven't seen in years."

Hannah caught the scent of her sex on her fingers, but focused on thinking of an appropriate reply.

"Sure yes, that would be fine with me." She lied proficiently, as a wave of disappointment washed over her. "You need to keep in touch -- it's why we're here, huh? Same time and meeting place?"

"By the lotus flower hand, yes," Eden replied, reminding her of their early conversation.

"Okay then, laters."

Hannah groaned in frustration, first denied her orgasm and now denied a precious intimacy with Eden. 'Maybe that would have been moving too fast though? I might end up anxious and make a fool of myself with her. One-to-one meals can be intense,' she reasoned to herself.

* * * *

Hannah sat stiffly in her seat, uncomfortable to be in company, though they were all friendly enough and tried to include her in their conversation. They were old student friends of Eden's, medical folk, who swapped stories about department cuts, their kids, and their holidays in the Caribbean.

Eden looked her way a couple of times with a warm smile of acknowledgement. The food was excellent, the wine a bit too easy to enjoy, especially when the waitress kept topping up Hannah's glass. She lost count of how much she'd drunk.

It was only when they all rose to leave that she realised how wobbly her legs had become. Not drunk, but only a sip away from embarrassment.

Outside they waved the friends away and Eden turned to her.

"You're worse than a doctor, Hannah. How much did you drink?"

"Oh god, did you notice? I really have no idea -- the waitress..." Hannah stopped mid sentence when she heard her mouth turn waitress into 'waitresh'.

"Come on you tipsy tart! Let's get you home," Eden laughed, slipping her arm under Hannah's and turning to walk the short distance back to their hotel.