"Hey, I'm gonna take a shower," I said to Virginia.
I was headed toward the bathroom, when I heard her ask, "Uh, is there room for two?"
I looked back at her, sitting on the bed nearly naked, her long brown hair attractively resting on her shoulder, curled along her neck. She smiled coquettishly, batting her long eyelashes at me. I felt a shiver run through me. I felt my nipples getting stiff, and I could see hers already were.
"Yeah, I think I could get you in," I said, smiling back at her. "I know the owner." Virginia got to her feet, and walked over to me, taking my hand in hers, love in her eyes. I couldn't resist, and kissed her, loving the feel of her lips on mine, the urgent press of her body into me. We bumped hips as we walked to the bathroom, the warm feel of her against me always welcome.
When we got there, Virginia slipped her panties off her wide hips, her back to me, displaying her absolutely delicious butt. She looked back at me over her shoulder. "Hey, don't look at me undressing," she said.
"I was just thinking about breakfast," I joked.
I turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature to warm, near hot, and pulled the curtain so water wouldn't splash out. " 'kay," I said, as I stepped in, holding the curtain for her. Virginia stepped in and immediately slipped into my arms and we kissed deeply, as water ran in rivulets down our bodies.
"I've never been so happy, my entire life," Virginia whispered, her voice just audible over the hiss of the water. Her eyes were shining.
I felt a strange pang in my heart. I wasn't sure where it came from, but it seemed to be something like a fear that I'd wake up from a dream of love, alone, in the sleeper of my truck cab, on the way from here to there by myself. It was incredible to me that I was standing in the embrace of a woman who wanted nothing more than to be with me, loving me.
"Oh yeah, me too," I said. "But, c'mon, time's a-wasting, let's get cleaned up!" I took a squirt of my herbal shampoo and began soaping up my hair. "Have you ever tried this?" I asked Virginia.
She looked at the bottle. "No, how is it?" she asked.
"It's wonderful," I said. "It's got a lovely fragrance, and my hair has a glossy sheen when I use it - see?" I shook my head from side to side like a model on TV, and Virginia burst out laughing.
"I almost expected to see your hair do something, like in the commercials," she said. "But it's only like two inches long..." I laughed along with her.
"It's the choice of butch dykes everywhere," I said, smiling. Virginia kissed me again, pressing her ultra-feminine body against me. Her pregnancy really agreed with her, at least so far. Her breasts seemed bigger, her hips more seductive - of course, I'd only known her less than a week, and she was only two months along, so there was a slight chance it might be my imagination.
"Well, why not try it?" I said. She shrugged, and turned her back to me, dipped her head under the shower, turning her tousled locks into a sheet of shiny wet hair, ready for shampooing. She looked over her shoulder, rather seductively, I thought, and looked at me.
"Okay," she said expectantly. Then it occurred to me that I was supposed to do her hair.
"Oops, sorry," I said, applying a dollop of the cream-colored goo to her scalp, then began massaging it in. "Mmm, that feels SO good," she moaned, pressing her round ass back into my crotch.
"Ohh, jeez, we're never gonna get out of the bedroom, are we?" I said, comically. "We're just gonna fuck ourselves to death, or starve to death when Sneezer the cat refuses to bring us dinner in bed anymore, or something..."
Virginia giggled. "Okay," she laughed. "But could you finish doing my hair, and then I'll do yours? It really DOES feel good, and I don't think anyone else has ever done my hair for me, except my mom, or the girl at Super Cuts."
"Okay," I agreed. "And I'd just like it noted for the record, that I really DO like fucking you, I'm not trying to get out of anything..." Virginia backed her ass into my crotch again, and looked around at me.
"Oh I KNOW you love to fuck, especially me."
"ONLY you," I corrected her. She shivered, maybe with happiness, the water was getting hot so it wasn't from cold. I finished up her hair. Even wet, her hair looks dynamite. "All done," I said.
She turned to face me, water droplets hanging from the end of each nipple, her whole body freckled with clear droplets. I smiled at her. "You look pretty, decorated with drops of water like that."
"Shut up, lesbian seductress," she said. "I wanna do your hair. I've got some ideas." She put some shampoo in her palm, then reached up and began doing my hair. Of course, it's not very long, I'm not that fem, so it didn't take long. Virginia giggled. "It sure doesn't take you long to do your hair, does it?"
Then we soaped each other up, and yes, it was quite enjoyable to run my hands over Virginia's slick, soapy, ultra-feminine body. What did you think I'd say? And you might be asking, did we make love again?
In a word.....no. We had both really lowered our energy levels for that kind of pursuit the night before. If you read Chapters four and five, you'll know that. But we both really enjoyed touching each other, and whispering fondly as we bathed. It was just a nice way to get closer to this woman who had stolen my heart. Soon enough, we got out and dried off, big, fluffy bath towels rubbed briskly over each other's body. The temptation was building to wrap Virginia in one of those towels, nearly bigger than she was, throw her back on the bed, and ravage her, but it was resisted - barely.
We both dressed for a day cleaning up around the house. We planned to go to Nouvelle Génération, the new lesbian and gay club Virginia had found in Fort Smith, later, after a quiet dinner at home, but for the meantime, it was jeans and a golf shirt for me, and a skirt with a cute cotton blouse for Virginia. We were both sitting at the kitchen table, and had finished our late breakfast.
"Okay, I'm gonna do your hair," Virginia announced. She pulled the table away from me, so I was just sitting in the straight-backed kitchen chair. "Sit up," she commanded me. I straightened up. "Don't fidget," she said.
"Fidget?" I asked.
"It's what my mother used to tell me when she was going to cut my hair, as a little girl," she explained. "I'm pretty sure it basically meant, 'if you get up, I will smack you SO hard...'" she said.
"Well, I won't get up then," I said. "But look, you're not going to doll me up are you? I like my look," I said.
"You mean, your butch look?" Virginia said, her hand on my shoulder. Then she turned and, straddling my legs and facing me, sat down in my lap, her face inches from mine, her pussy, covered only by her skirt, only inches from mine, which was, sadly, clothed in jeans.
"Baby, I LOVE your butch look," she said, her eyes on mine. "I ADORE it when you're on top of me, and in me...." Her eyes softened a little. I could see she wasn't kidding. She continued.
"I'm not gonna do anything to fem you up, sweetie. I don't want THIS to stop...." she took my hand, and brought it under her skirt, to her damp slit. She wasn't wearing any panties. She pressed my hand against her heat and wetness, and leaned forward to kiss me, her lips warm and soft on mine.
"And I want you inside me....fucking me. And speaking of fucking me, that thing you had up my butt last night? I'd like it in here, too," she said, pressing my hand against her hole again.
I gave an embarrassed cough. "Uh heh," I mumbled. "Um, you figured it out?"
"It's hard to stay asleep with a dick up your ass," she said, grinning.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked.
"Well....because I LIKED it, and because YOU liked it, and because you were having a REALLY good time." I began teasing her clit with my thumb and forefinger, but Virginia shooed me off, getting up off my lap, and grabbing the comb and scissors she'd placed on the kitchen counter, next to a large handheld mirror and a bottle of hair gel.
"No, no, no! First your hair. Then if you want to have your way..." she promised. I shrugged.
Virginia began combing my hair, this way and that, and snipping at it here and there.
"Do you happen to know what you're doing?" I asked, a little timidly.
"Uh huh," she said. "I got a hairstylist's license in Arizona, and I've done a lot of boys' hair. And obviously, your hair is more like that than anything else. Don't worry, you'll still look dykey and hot when I get done." I let her get to her business. I respect a professional. She did her thing, then whipped out a handful of hair gel, and massaged it through my hair.
"God, that feels GOOD," I sighed, as her greasy fingers ran through my hair, followed by the comb.
"Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Everybody likes their scalp played with," she said absently, concentrating on my hair. I was surprised at how serious she looked doing my hair, but, like I said, I respect a professional when they're at their work.
Virginia walked around me about three times when she was done, just staring at my head, and 'tsking' a couple of times with her tongue between her teeth, then finally smiled, and said, "Okay, you're done." Then she picked up the hand mirror and showed me her work.
"Damn!" I said. "That is HOT!" I said. She looked at me, not sure if I was kidding her, or mad, or really liked it. She'd made my hair into an elevated flat top, about an inch higher than a guy's would be, and just combed down and closer to the scalp along the sides and back. Picture the leader of a '50's gang in a movie from that era, complete with the greasy hair look. The only thing missing was a spit curl in the front. And of course, I'm a dirty blonde.
