Supersexual
I must have jumped a foot, suddenly jarred from my wits by Donna's high pitched scream at the unexpected surprise of seeing me there in the doorway. Hands having flown to the side of her face in some instinctual effort to protect her head, she accidently painted her right cheek and temple as she screamed again. Stumbling, I caught myself by grabbing the doorway with my left hand, clamping my right over my chest in an effort to calm my suddenly thrashing heart as she stared in alarm.
A few seconds later, after quickly bending to turn the stereo off, she straightened to exclaim, "Holy
fuck
, Tara!"
Her foul language didn't even register as I closed my eyes, trying to collect my poor, shattered wits from the floor.
"I-I'm sorry," I managed. "I'd just come in and...
Geez,
you have a loud scream!"
Trying to catch her own breath, she covered her forehead with her free hand, looking down as she recovered, but without noticing that the top of one areola had escaped from its lacy quarter cup. She didn't even realize that she'd painted the side of her face as I finally managed to step into the room, still in recovery.
"You okay?" I eventually asked, starting to smile at the humour of the moment while trying not to stare at her beautiful chest and, in particular, the sexy, partial appearance of her dark areola.
"I will be! My God, Tara, what were you doing just standing...? Oh." As though only then remembering that she'd been working without her top, she smiled sheepishly at me as she explained, "Uh, it was so freaking hot in here, I just figured... well, why not? I mean, it was only me here and didn't think you'd be back so early. I'm really sorry."
"It's okay, Donna, I understand."
It was inappropriate as all get out, but she was right about the heat and I certainly did understand her taking off her top because of it, and it wasn't as if she wasn't wearing a bra. Admittedly, it was my hormonal inferno that saw no reason for why she should apologise, or replace her top on my account. It had been somewhat dampened by her vocal alarm and the sensory shock it had inflicted, but I was still quite aroused. While I had no idea what I wanted in regards to that at the moment, I did know that, aside from the heat, I enjoyed seeing her that way.
"No, I really shouldn't have done that," she insisted, turning away and walking to the kitchen. "This is our place of work. It was inappropriate and I should have known better, especially with you being Salvation Army and all. I'm really sorry, Lieutenant, I never wanted to offend you, and I promise this won't happen again. I hope you haven't lost respect for me on account of this, because I really respect you," she said from the kitchen, taking her T-shirt from where it hung over the back of one of the chairs. "In fact, I really like you a lot, and working with you is..."
By the time she'd returned to the front room, almost ready to pull her ratty old T-shirt over her head, I'd removed my jacket and unbuttoned my blouse most of the way. She'd stopped up, staring much as I'd stared at her as I finished with the last button, pulling it open and out of my skirt. Moments later, it was draped over the top of the stepladder where I'd put my jacket, and I stood before her in my bra.
I know I shouldn't have done it. I mean, for an Officer to expose herself like that to an underling is, in its own curious way, worse than what happened in Hurdle's office less than an hour before, but those events had me worked up. I sped from Osler Street to The Mission with them, straight to troublingly beautiful Donna with the sinfully perfect body that I was inconveniently attracted to.
I stood with an understanding smile for her, my nipples again hard and on display to the extent that the dusty rose, translucent sheer would allow. I can only imagine how I looked with my bowler still on my head, its red shield prominently displayed on the front as she gazed.
"It's okay," I repeated. "I know it's hot, and I don't blame you. Relax. Okay?"
As cool as I sounded, my entire body vibrated with excited sexual energy as perspiration ran down my chest like it was hers, tickling my cleavage as it dribbled down between my boobs. And then, in a moment that was heated even beyond the surrounding atmosphere, we stared at one another's chest, checking each other out. I could tell she was impressed and it turned me on even more.
"Um... okay..." she finally answered, the flicker of a sincere smile telling me that, while she was a little cautious about the situation, she really was okay with it.
Needless to say, I was cautious about the situation too, but very much enjoying it, though not in the same way I'd enjoyed the situation in Hurdle's office. Helplessly, I wondered what he'd started.
"Donna?"
"Hm?" she responded, eyes practically startled out of my cleavage as I approached, my heels the only sound in the otherwise silent house.
I came to a stop right in front of her, less than a foot away. She looked slightly up at me as I touched the side of her face with the tip of my index finger, then holding it in front of her beautiful eyes to see.
"You painted yourself."
It was obviously the last thing she expected, the weighted pause between my news and her sudden, quiet laughter telling me in no uncertain terms that this woman was as attracted to me as I was to her. In that moment, as I laughed with her, both of us looking into one another's eyes, my excited senses swam in the heat and I wondered why I hadn't seen it earlier.
The bigger question was what I'd do about it. As hungry as I was for some kind of contact just then, the fact that it would be with a woman still gave me a little pause. Also, I didn't like the idea of using Donna and her attraction to me to satisfy myself. Because I didn't consider myself bisexual, it wouldn't have been fair to her and I really didn't want to ruin the friendship I'd found with her, the same one that Hurdle had warned me about, by making a (may God forgive me) lover out of her, another whole kettle of immoral, non-ethical, non-scriptural and no salvational fish. But, when our soft laughter trickled away like the slow trickle of moisture running from my inner thighs, I still hadn't decided where this was going to go.
So, after another silent pause between us, still standing so close, she took the carpet by asking in a quiet voice, "So, um... did you pick up something cold to drink?"
"Oops. Sorry, Donna. I was kinda distracted."
"That's okay. How'd the meeting go?"
" ... It was hot. I think the air conditioner in his office was on the fritz."
"Oh," she replied, redirecting her gaze at my chest for another lingering look.
The air was thick with apprehension on both our parts, this not lost on either of us as I struggled to come up with something that would either break the sexual ice, or allow us to skate apart from each other on it.
"Maybe we should get that paint off your face before it totally dries," I suggested.
She nodded and we both moved to the kitchen sink where we'd been cleaning the tray, rollers and brushes. There was a fairly clean rag there and I took it upon myself to wet it and start gingerly dabbing away at the paint. The trouble was, this didn't accomplish anything in respect to what would or would not be happening between us. She only looked into my eyes, smiling now with anticipation as I intermittently met hers while I worked.
They were so pretty with flecks of gold and green, a sea of glittery stars against a backdrop of subtle darkness. And it was as though they were inviting me in, offering to hug me tight, securely and lovingly while I stayed. My senses swam again while a small stream of moisture began making its way down the inside of my right thigh, and I tried to steady my shaky hands. It was exciting, like those moments in porn videos before the full on sex happened, the ones loaded with heavy expectation and uncontainable desire that demanded fingers inside my panties. But now it was real. And that only struck me just then, just as our bras lightly rubbed together, both of us flinching at the glancing contact, but neither of us backing down or going forward.
"You've got some in your hair too," I commented in that quiet voice that we were using.
"Oh... will you be able to get it out?"