Chapter 38 #2
Kim laughs, grips Danika’s hand tighter.
The bubble of joy expands in her chest so much she can hardly draw breath.
This is real. This is her and her girlfriend strolling along a street together, doing couple things, being openly affectionate.
She presses a kiss to Danika’s cheek, just because she can.
They reach the end of the shopping strip, wander through a park, then return on the other side of the street.
The Thai restaurant is flat out when they go in, but their takeaway is ready, kept in an esky to stay warm.
Once home, Danika flicks on floor lamps in the living area, asks Alexa to play her mellow playlist, and finds bowls, hot sauce, forks, and napkins.
They sit on the same side of the bench to eat, interspersing the food with kisses, with caresses, with sips of the wine Kim brought. Neither of them can finish it.
They stack the dishwasher together, then Danika puts the leftovers in containers. Such banal domesticity is fresh and new, because it’s Danika she’s sharing chores with. And even something this simple is overlaid with the anticipation of later. Of soon.
Kim watches Danika’s hands as she puts the food in the fridge. Short nails, buffed, not varnished. With a jolt, she realises Danika has removed her wedding ring. There’s a thin strip of paler skin where it used to sit. When did she do that?
Her gaze travels up over Danika’s loose shirt to the curve of her neck. Pale skin there, hardly touched by the sun. Danika is ferocious with the sunblock, so that’s no wonder.
Kim closes the dishwasher and looks up to see Danika bending over to place the last container of food in the fridge. Her bottom encased in snug jeans beckons, and she stands behind her, running her hands from Danika’s waist to her bottom and back.
“I may stand here all night if you keep doing that.” The hum of the fridge muffles her words.
Kim continues, and strokes lower until her fingers are reaching around, stroking over the seam at the crotch of Danika’s jeans. Danika shudders.
The fridge beeps. She stands, slams the door of the fridge and turns into Kim’s arms, looping her own around Kim’s neck. “I think it’s time for bed.”
“It’s not even nine o’clock.” Kim nuzzles her neck.
“That’s bedtime if you’re nine years old. Or horny as hell. Take your pick.”
Kim’s been in Danika’s bedroom before, but not with this intention. The room has changed little since the last time, but the doona cover is now ash pink, a modern pattern that looks good. It’s turned down invitingly, showing the fold marks still on the sheets.
They come together at the foot of the bed. Arms clasp tight, and their breath mingles between them as their foreheads touch. The moment feels intense to Kim, as if it’s a promise. As if it’s the start of something huge, something that will define her life from this moment.
Danika sighs gently, and then they are kissing. Their lips meld, and the desire that’s been simmering all evening flares into incandescent life once more. And it’s more than before, the first time, their only time, because now there’s love in the mix.
They ease out of their clothes, one piece at a time.
Kim lifts Danika’s floaty shirt over her head and drops it on the floor.
Danika unbuttons Kim’s shirt, pushes it from her shoulders. It catches at her waist and with a laugh, Danika undoes the button she missed so the shirt falls away.
Kim fumbles with the catch on Danika’s bra until she can undo it, and then kisses her pink nipples, one after the other, teasing them with her fingers and lips until they pucker in the still air.
Danika cups Kim’s full breasts, lifts first one, then the other to her mouth. The sight is so erotic, Kim’s knees tremble.
Then Danika’s jeans join the pile of clothes on the floor, along with her lacy undies. Kim’s pants slump to the ground in folds of rough wool, her undies caught up in them.
Naked, they sit on the bed and kiss again. A kiss for the ages, for the memory. The prelude to their making love, not for the first time, but the first time since they’ve admitted what they are to each other.
Kim leans back, fumbles with the quilt, trying to pull it back, to slide underneath it, but she overbalances and then Danika is on top of her, straddling her hips, leaning in to kiss her.
It’s not a romantic kiss this time; it’s one of need and want and urgency.
It’s one of love.
Kim wiggles a hand between their bodies, so she can touch between Danika’s legs.
She’s wet already, and Kim’s fingers come away damp.
She rears up, unseating Danika, who falls back on the mattress, and together they tussle for a moment, laughter trickling out of them, as their play-fight turns into tickles, which is definitely cheating.
Kim gains the upper hand, and she rests one hand on Danika’s belly, nudging at Danika’s thighs with the other until she parts them. Kim wants to taste her, push her fingers inside, fuck her, stroke her. She wants it all.
So she does it all. Her fingers push inside, her lips and tongue settle over Danika’s clit. Her own clit throbs, and she resists the urge to rub herself on the quilt. Her turn will come.
Danika’s hands fist in Kim’s hair. Her breathy moans fill the room, and in only a minute or two, she’s shuddering her way through her first orgasm.
A minute to catch her breath, then she takes advantage of Kim’s relaxation to change positions, so that she can taste too. Kim revels in how Danika’s more assured, confident in her role as lover.
Kim closes her eyes, visualises her body, every centimetre of it, how it’s feeling. How good she feels. How incredible Danika feels. And then she’s coming in a series of waves, and she has to tell herself to breathe.
Later, much later, as they settle in for sleep, Danika says, “And this is why we go to bed before nine. So we have time to love.”
Kim’s eyelids weigh heavy, but she manages a “Mm.” And then, “I love you.”
She thinks she hears Danika repeat the phrase before she drifts off to sleep, nestled in close to Danika’s side.