There is something utterly indescribable about the nights of the New Meridian. There is an air, a buzz even, of pure passion and romance that takes a hold to all inhabitants of the area. In the dead of the evening, it is easy to hear a cat and his mate being mewling in some dark alleyway, hidden from the moonlight which shines gently on the city. It would be impossible to analyse why it riles up couples, how it can drive people to such refined love and keep the two gripping from dusk until dawn. Instead, many just accept it as something that cannot be questioned and many do not care in the first place to. However, it is a very valid question to ask, considering the nature of people, to ask instead:
"How does one exploit this phenomenom?"
The Meridian Sleep E-Z is a small and rather sleazy motel all things considered that sat by a canal that ran through a small market district - a strange, foreign place to some unaccustomed vistor that was entirely populated by fish people, to be crass. The motel was not a high class establishment certainly, but it was cosy enough for residence. The old qualms that people used to have of the corpses that various mafioso members had left behind hidden under the floorbords suddenly became a non-issue once an odd cat-girl started showing her face. This did scare all the customers way, so the rooms begun selling cheaper and cheaper; even a schoolgirl could rent a room for chump's change.
That is where we begin.
In a small, square room bathed in cream paint; the bedsheets and skirting matching a lotus decor and the furniture a mottled oak colour, a young girl sat ontop a small wooden chair. In her hands she held a religious book - all about the Trinity and the immortal Mother. Every room has a small, leather-bound copy for those dead-beats who have let their life spiral out of control and need guidance, lest they hang themselves from the door handle with their rope belt. For this girl, the Trinty has served her little during her trial and tribulations and to be honest, a feeling lingers in the back of her head that she should tear this to pieces and curse the whole damn nerve of it all. She has little strength today. She softly slides the book along small coffee table beside her and instead, picks up a small hand mirror. Adorned in a very childish design, bunnies and coloured pink, it is slightly cracked but serves it's purpose well. Trembling, the girl remains anxious when faced with the meer sight of it. She c loses an eye and brings the mirror closer; she is in the surface's gaze but she daren't gaze back. A single deep breath to rouse the courage, she looks.
The young girl notices that her scars look back at her.
Carol was waiting for her friend to join her in this motel room. Filia swore she would not keep her waiting too long and with the absense of a clock, Carol could not be given the oppotunity to scold her if she broke that promise. It was a rare event that she would anyway, Filia was the one she could trust no matter what. That did not stop the lonely lass from feeling some resentment towards her absence. She did, after all, leave Carol alone long enough for her to accidently catch a glimpse of her mutilations. The stitched cross that was so evident upon her face to the scars of the Glasgow smile, inflicted by cruel captors that had once found her when she was just a schoolgirl. All of this, although now sealed and sterile, felt opened anew every single time she looked upon them in some reflection. The blood of her wounds were replaced with the tears in her eyes; the pain now coming from her fragile heart. Her sorrow flared up once more now, but there were no sobs - the tears ran silently. The crickets in the reeds outside could instead be heard, playing their legs in a nightly sympthony.
A key is turned, the noise of the door handle is head and the door squeaks open.
In the door way stands Filia, a girl of sixteen and a classmate to the young Carol. Of fair complexion, shapely and her face home to a uniquely innocent expression. On her shoulders she carried a bulky school satchel, filled with more than books. Hidden in some old newspapers, a bottle of champagne, swiped from some distracted market patron. Apart from a mostly ill-fitting school uniform, she donned a dark summer cap, which fit snugly around the crown of her head. Easing the door shut as she went, her movements were slight and gentle.
Setting down her satchel by a nightstand nearby, she slipped the champagne bottle out of the makeshift sleeve and feeling back at ease in the room, she made powerful strides towards the desk which lay adjacent to the king sized bed. While Filia, all things considered, had the expression of a meek and confused girl, everything else about her suggested otherwise. Her face was typically feminine, her body plump and curvy but she had power in one way or enough; her thick thighs were strong and muscular. If you wanted a testament to how Filia was remarkably resillient, ask Carol herself. With a small smile, she turns to Carol, who had been tracking her as she moved around the room. Carol, now gently putting the mirror to one side, returns the gesture and stands up to properly face her friend. Her blushes, standing out on her deathly pale skin, betrayed her feelings. Filia could do nothing but share the moment, placing her hand gently upon the other girl's shoulder. However, with a quick turn, Filia snatched up a pair of plastic party cups, decorated with balloons and with a big number eight on the side and presented a corkscrew that she had stashed in one of the breast pockets of her shirt. With a quick twist and a pop, the bottle was open. The night was to begin with the tip of the bottle into these cups.
The two girls drank until midnight. Both slow enough to savour the drink and the moment, the bottle shared evenly. However Carol, a much smaller girl than Filia, found herself worse for wear than her compartriate. Her blushes became much more extreme, not flat out drunk but certainly tipsy. Filia was getting the same way, but when you are the host to an alcoholic brute such as Samson, you build up a tolerance to it. Swirling an empty cup as if she were holding a fine glass of brandy, Filia begun to speak.
"I think it worked."
Carol could only wonder what she meant, communicating with a look of confusion on her face to her friend. Filia took the hint and finally removed that tight summerhat from her head for the first time this evening. It was a varitable sight to behold. The loud-mouthed and frequently violent parasite that Filia was an unfortunate host to was constricted, bound and pacified by a common hairnet. Oddly enough, the beast did not thrash, he did not even stir. The net had kept him paralysed, even knocked out. Carol finally realised what had made the evening so quiet, the reason why she could enjoy a moment with her dearest friend. Without a second though, the girl drops her cup onto the floor and leaps into embrace. Without the constant sneering of Samson, Carol had the opportunity to show her saviour a tenderness that would be unknown between the two. Lax in the arms of Filia, yet still holding onto the girl for dear life, tears spring from her eyes. Gently, she sobbed onto Filia's breast, while the other girl stood firm and knowingly. With her index finger, Filia hooked the underneath of Carol's chin and brings it up from torso to be once again be face to face. With the other hand, she softly wiped the tears from the weeping girl's eyes and stared deeply into them, extruding a sense of humbling compassion. The caring gaze, coupled with the kind feminine face, instantly ceased the flow of Carol's tears. Sorrow was quickly changed to love, when Filia puckered her lips and leant in for a disarming kiss.
It was what felt like minutes before their lips left one another. Their saliva mixed, tasting eachother and their bodies pressed up, warmth building. When the two broke lip lock, both looked once again at eachother and smiled. They knew what was happening. They escaped eachothers grasp and stripping. Carol did not know what to do with herself, tugging at every article in a desperate struggle with her own clothing. Filia stopped her, tracing her hand down from her shoulder all the way to Carol's hand. One by one, she unbuttoned the schoolshirt of the scarred girl. Calm, Carol felt it right to only do the same, until each could shrug off their clothing. Stepping out of her skirt, Carol stepped back and exposed her full figure. Pale, blue veins showing and visibly scarred still, she let her friend look over her body. Carol did not want to keep her own eyes open, fearing that if she glanced at her friend, she'd only see a look of replusion. Her anxiety slowly built and she was almost ready to quickly reclothe and flee into the night - but she felt the carressing of Filia's palms upon her hips
"Carol, don't worry. Just relax..."
Those words were enough.
The duo guided eachother towards the bed and crawled under the covers, emerging at the pillows. Peck after peck aimed at Carol's lips, her body scouted by probing hands. Apart for a moment once more, Filia laid her head down on her pillow and took the time to appreciate the person to her side. However, she begun once again. As they lay ontop one another, close enough for their noses to touch, an errant hand was slipped down Carol's underwear. Carol squirmed when she felt that sudden jolt of pleasure on her groin, but could not take her eyes of her comrade. Slowly, the passion grew and a weight began being lifted off from the girl's shoulders. The stray fingers dragging along her crotch left her unable to think about any thing else. All the while this was happening, Carol kept her hands firmly on Filia's backside, massaging her cheeks gently. However, whatever pattern she had going was quickly forgotten when Filia suddenly slipped a finger into Carol's snatch. With a gasp of air, the girl looked bewildered but as soon as it was in motion, she could not fight it. As the speed of Filia's finger increased, so did her entire body. Her breasts begun to jiggle and bounce, as it got that tiny bit rougher the movements became obscene. Ample and hefty, Carol kept finding herself coming back to them even when the pleasure had her looking in all directions. No longer supporting Filia's ass, she moved her hands upwards to cop a feel and the more she fiddled with them, the harder Filia probed and the longer she rubbed. That look of innocence upon her face was still very much there, but it had become one of passion. As is said, the blushes betrayed her feelings.
Soon enough though, Carol was near the edge. She tugged and pulled harder at her friend's teets, which had made Filia respond with an increase in tempo. As they reached the crescendo, it all became rougher and the moaning started to pick up. Even Filia herself could not help but to lose her cool. The covers were knocked aside and the bed squeaked; the noise being made must have been ghastly. Slowly, Carol grew wetter and more adventurous - she was being wrecked with pleasure with a single index finger, but Filia tore her down with two digits. Neither of them could keep it up any longer.
"F-Filia! I-I can't hol-" Carol almost shrieked, "H-h-hold on!"
"Almost there, Carol..." replied Filia gently still, even as the climax was being reached.
Finally, with one strong thrust, Carol was over the edge. Her vaginal muscles clenched around the two fingers inside of her, soaking her friends hand in juices. She flung her arms to the side, ending her assault on Filia's teets. The orgasm was something like she had never experienced before and soon enough, the hand was withdrawn and the couple had manouvered themselves side by side, holding eachother tightly. One more kiss and Carol finally had the courage to talk.
"Filia, I-I never properly thanked you."
"Why Carol, It's -"
"No! You never had to do anything for me... " objected the girl, "Yet, you did"
Filia looked at the stupid girl and answered all her worries simply.
"It's because I love you, silly!"
It was the one thing that Carolhad wanted to hear and with it, held her love tight. It was the perfect answer and now, nothing could take away from this moment.
Thank fuck Samson is dealt with.