Almost a month later and here's chapter two, haha. I'm so sorry for the delay. This chapter was a struggle to write for obvious reasons (being that I am straight and have never written something like this before) but with the approval of my bi friend, I am somewhat confident in posting!

So, let's see how Sorelli feels about Christine's midnight visit from Philippe, shall we?

Please enjoy, and review. :)


Chapter 2- Softness

She merely lied there for a while, naked, sprawled out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with blurry eyes. Exhaustion and bliss wore heavy on her, and she resisted the strong urge to sleep, knowing she needed to find the strength to get up and don her nightclothes again. Eventually, she did, her limbs feeling heavy and strange as she got up, wincing when she felt the soreness of her lower body. It was not unbearable, though, but she suspected it would feel much worse in the morning.

Ah, well. As if she could regret the things that had just transpired. She could not shed the smile from her lips as she replaced only her nightgown, too lazy to don anything else.

After a quick venture to the bathroom, Christine sat—very carefully—at the mirror, attempting to brush out her wild, tangled curls. She could hardly believe the face looking back in the reflection belonged to her. Swollen lips upturned in a small yet flirtatious smile, flushed cheeks, bright blue eyes filled with the secrets she had discovered.

Oh, the possibilities!

Of course, Christine had always wondered about the pleasures of the human body, had frequently imagined what it would be like to make love. But never had she expected that the things done between two people could be so utterly delicious, so overwhelmingly good.

Something so wonderful could not possibly be wrong, could it?

The night had changed her, Christine knew. She had been a sleeping flower, had only just begun to awaken, and would need much more tending before she could bloom fully. She had much work to do.

Humming softly as she brushed her hair, she fantasized of other ways she could find mutual pleasure and with whom, thinking of the endless possibilities that lied before her now. Surprisingly…he was one of the first people on her mind, despite all the Phantom had done. Should she not find the man who had awakened this passion in her to begin with? Show her gratitude in a way he would no doubt enjoy? She bit her lip as she imagined what his pleasured groans would sound like, coming from his sensual, musical voice. Her stomach fluttered just imagining it.

When she finally crawled back into the madly comfortable bed, she fell asleep with ease, dreaming of finding the Phantom and sharing her newfound secrets with him.


The guilt had not come until morning.

When Christine woke, body sore and aching, she was brought a note from Raoul stating that he and Philippe had to attend an unexpected business meeting that would last much of the day. In it he profusely apologized and promised to return as soon as he could, and reminded her of how much he loved her and loved having her here at his family's home. She chewed on her lip with worry as she read it over and over, sitting cross-legged on the bed, her stomach twisting with what she had done.

And then there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," Christine said, figuring it was a servant or housekeeper or something, but when Sorelli came in and shut the door behind her, Christine immediately sat up straighter on the bed, warily studying the woman. Her silky black hair was down, framing her face in soft waves, and she wore an open robe over her thin chemise and stockings. Though Christine was only in her nightgown herself, Sorelli's state of undress had her swallowing hard. The woman's lovely face was not necessarily unfriendly, but Christine's stomach still fluttered with nerves.

Why had she come?

"Oh," Christine finally said, questions evident in her shaky voice, as Sorelli approached the bed. "Good m-morning, Sorelli."

"Christine," she greeted in return, an unreadable expression on her tan face.

When Christine opened her mouth to speak again, she was cut off by Sorelli's question: "Tell me, little Daaé, how did you enjoy fucking my Comte last night?"

Christine paled, gaping, no words being able to form on her dry tongue. Oh no. Oh God. Sorelli stared at her with raised eyebrows, her face amused as she waited, but Christine could only shake her head slightly, willing for the right explanation to pop into her mind.

But then, Sorelli giggled, erasing all hints of intimidation as she sat on the edge of the bed. "I am only kidding," she laughed, and then sighed, "We all know Philippe is not—and will never be, for that matter—mine." She rolled her eyes, and Christine only continued to gape at her. "That man will never settle down, I just know it. But it is fine; I do not intend to marry either way. I could never give up dancing for a husband and children." She shuddered as if the thought were repulsive to her.

Christine finally clamped her mouth shut, realizing she could relax, that she was not in trouble like she had thought. Still, her voice was barely more than a whisper as she asked, "Philippe…told you, then?" How dare he! Oh God… Would he tell Raoul?

"Early this morning, yes. We have always been very open about our other bed partners. It helps to keep things casual between us." She shrugged. "He told me you were…a real treat." Sorelli smirked and raised a black, perfectly groomed brow, and Christine's cheeks warmed, having to look away from the woman's dark eyes. Her hands began to tremble in her lap.

Sorelli sighed, her expression turning to one of concern at Christine's silence. "Forgive my teasing. How are you feeling?"

There was a very long pause before Christine could respond. "I feel fine…physically, at least." She bit her lip. Sorelli looked genuinely concerned, which surprised her. They had only been acquaintances during the time they had known each other, not close but not enemies either, of course. Could she trust Sorelli?

She desperately needed to talk to someone, and she supposed Sorelli was as good a person as any, considering she already knew what Christine had done anyway. If she intended to tell Raoul, there was not much Christine could do about it. Perhaps if she explained herself, Sorelli would understand…

"However," Christine murmured, unable to meet the woman's warm eyes. "I cannot believe how easily I gave up my virtue. To Raoul's brother, no less!" She groaned quietly and put her head in her hands, her elbows resting on her legs. "I am a terrible person."

She felt Sorelli scoot closer to her, felt a hand on her shoulder soon after. "You were only following your desires," Sorelli assured her quietly. "I do not see anything wrong with that. Besides, you were doing it for Raoul, were you not? So you could learn to be good for him?"

Christine's head snapped up, and she stared at Sorelli's kind, caring, beautiful face with wide eyes. If she was being honest with herself, Christine had hardly thought of Raoul at all last night, besides that one fleeting moment before Philippe's seduction. She had even pictured doing the deed with the Phantom—a murderer—before even considering it with Raoul! But when Sorelli suggested that she had done it for him…so she could please him…

"Yes," Christine finally said, nodding, clinging to it. "Yes, I did it for Raoul."

Sorelli smiled. "Then you have nothing to be ashamed of." Her hand squeezed Christine's shoulder gently, and then softly stroked Christine's wild, bed-mangled hair. "It is not like he is a virgin either. I mean, if he is anything like Philippe there is no way he is…" she trailed off with a laugh, shaking her head.

A gust of air left Christine's lips as she considered Sorelli's words, her heart seeming to pause for a moment. Raoul…oh, how had she never even thought that he could have already bedded a woman? He was a man, had been for quite a while before they reunited after years separated! It was entirely possible. Would her feelings for him change if it were true? Would she resent him for it?

She had to know. And there was only one way to find out if he was educated in lovemaking without asking him outright.

Sorelli's pleasantly raspy voice interrupted her stressed thoughts: "Oh, Christine, your hair is a mess. You should let me help you prepare for when the Vicomte returns home. I've no doubt that you will want to test out the waters with him tonight." She winked, and Christine flushed a deep pink. "I'll bet you are sore, too. A hot bath is just what you need." Before Christine could say anything more, Sorelli jumped up and dashed into the bathroom, her dancer's step lithe and graceful, and Christine could hear the sounds of running water soon after.

She finally climbed off the bed and slowly followed after Sorelli, and when she entered the brightly lit bathroom, Sorelli was pouring something into the large bathtub that made the water foam with tiny bubbles. The woman was checking the water's temperature with her fingers when she looked up and saw Christine. "This will make you smell fantastic," she said, holding up the bottle and smiling. "Raoul will not be able to resist you."

Good. She would need all the help she could get.

Christine finally smiled back at Sorelli, seeing that the woman was genuinely kind and only wanted to help. It was very nice to have a female to talk with after everything, one that would not judge her or scold her for what she did. She had no idea what she would be thinking at the moment had Sorelli never come and offered reassurance and comfort as she did.

"Thank you," Christine said, meaning it, and Sorelli approached her and touched her cheek affectionately.

"You deserve to be happy," Sorelli said quietly, her smile faltering. "You have always been so kind to everyone at the opera, no matter how ghastly some of them are." She shook her head in wonder. "And…well, I heard about what happened to you…with the opera ghost." Christine froze, but Sorelli went on. "How he pretended to be an angel and kidnapped you. I cannot even imagine… Oh, that must have been so terrifying." Sorelli embraced Christine then, holding her close with soft hands clutching her back.

Christine's lips parted at the press of Sorelli's body against hers, the softness of the woman making her suck in a startled breath.

She inhaled, Sorelli's feminine, floral, and very pleasant scent arousing her senses, and she pressed herself closer. Being much shorter than Sorelli, she was very aware of Sorelli's soft, full breasts against her cheek; as well as very aware of the extremely thin clothing they both wore. It made her knees tremble underneath her. She felt Sorelli sigh in contentment, heard the soft, tuneless hum that came with the release of air, and Christine's stomach fluttered at the noise.

Oh…

When Sorelli pulled away with a warm smile, Christine was sure her cheeks were tomato red. "Let's get you in the bath," Sorelli instructed, her voice lower than before, and Christine had no idea what to do or how to react when Sorelli grasped Christine's nightgown and pulled it up and off, revealing her nakedness underneath.

She watched Sorelli's golden brown eyes take all of her in, watched how the woman's white teeth grazed her full bottom lip. Christine could feel her hands trembling under the scrutiny, wondered why her heart raced in her chest, why she felt heated when she was standing naked in a cold bathroom with another female.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Sorelli asked quietly, meeting Christine's blue eyes in a heated glance.

Swallowing, Christine turned in a daze and stepped into the large tub, sinking into the steaming, foaming water. Her tender womanhood stung for a moment once under the hot bath, and she fought back a hiss. She watched curiously as Sorelli fetched a water pitcher from the cabinet and filled it from the bath's tap.

"You know, I have always admired your hair," Sorelli said. "It is the first thing I noticed about you when you arrived at the opera house. Such long, lovely brown curls… May I wash them, Christine?"

Christine stared up at her for a moment with parted lips, hardly able to believe her request. She wanted to…wash Christine's hair?

"Oh, um…sure." Christine did not see why not.

Sorelli beamed, flashing her perfect teeth, and came to stand behind where Christine sat in the bath. With a soft, low voice, Sorelli instructed Christine to tilt her head back, and Sorelli gently poured the warm water over her head, careful not to get any of the water in Christine's eyes. Sorelli repeated the process a few more times; filling the pitcher and saturating Christine's hair until it was completely drenched, and then shut off the water before the tub filled too high.

Using a mild soap, Sorelli lathered Christine's hair, took her time washing. She massaged Christine's scalp with long, soft but firm fingers, and Christine could not help but close her eyes in relaxation, sigh with pleasure. She had not had her hair washed by someone other than herself since she was a small child, and she found she enjoyed it very much. She felt as if she were being pampered, looked after, and it was so nice.

She would have to find some way to repay Sorelli for this.

After thoroughly rinsing Christine's now-clean hair, Sorelli set the pitcher aside, bringing Christine a washcloth and more soap. "I will fetch you clean clothes," Sorelli said softly, drying her hands with one of the thick towels stacked on a shelf. When she strode back into the bedroom, Christine released a long breath, beginning to wash herself with shaky hands, her mind racing.

She cleansed her body quickly but thoroughly, wincing when she made contact with the sensitive skin between her legs. It was definitely sore there, and tender, but it did not hurt near as bad as she had expected, and for that she was thankful. If things went as planned this evening, she would be making love again. The thought made her stomach twist with nerves, yet flutter with excitement.

Once finished, she drained the water and wrapped herself in a large, fluffy towel, her hair dripping down her back as she stepped out of the tub. Sorelli returned with clothing articles draped over her arm, but she set them aside upon seeing Christine standing awkwardly in the middle of the bathroom.

"Oh, Christine, your hair is so wet," Sorelli complained, grabbing another towel. "Here, let me help you." Sorelli came to stand mere inches away from Christine, and reached around her head to wrap her hair in the towel, squeezing the excess water out. "There you go," Sorelli murmured, and Christine could feel the woman's breath fanning her face with how close she stood.

"Thank you," Christine said, gulping. "It was…very nice of you to h-help me. With my hair…and for talking to me." She looked up, blue eyes meeting warm brown, and watched Sorelli look down on her with curiosity. Sorelli sucked in a breath between her full lips, her eyes shutting and…her head leaning down…

The next thing Christine knew, she was being kissed by a woman. Not only that, but also kissing said woman back. Sorelli's lips were the softest she had ever felt, warm, and moving gently against hers. The towel forgotten, falling to the floor, Sorelli's fingers tangled into Christine's damp hair, and Christine emitted a whimper when Sorelli deepened their kiss, parting lips and seeking entrance with soft tongue.

"Mmm," Sorelli hummed against Christine's lips. "A real treat, indeed."

Christine's hands, which were clutching the towel to her body, ached to touch Sorelli before her, and so she finally let the fabric fall, uncaring. She first trailed a hesitant touch down Sorelli's back, then arms, marveling at the softness of the woman. Though Christine had always admired the beauty of women, she had never quite thought of them in this way before. Still, she responded to Sorelli's kiss with every bit of excitement as she had Philippe and Raoul the night before.

Eventually, Sorelli broke their kiss, looking down at Christine with dark eyes. "What would you like to do, Christine?" Sorelli whispered, her breath heavy.

Christine bit her glistening lower lip, considering. She looked down at her nakedness, then looked at Sorelli's glorious body covered by thin garments, and with all the courage she could muster she said, "I…I want to see you. Without…this." She quickly gestured to the woman's light clothing. Yes, Christine had seen Sorelli without a stitch the night before, but not standing in front of her in the brilliant morning light. Plus…Christine did not like being the only one so exposed.

Without falter, Sorelli slipped off her robe and flung off her stockings, but when she reached for her chemise, Christine stopped her.

"Wait," she said, and Sorelli froze, looking at her curiously. Christine reached for either side of Sorelli's waist, gently grasping the fabric and pulling it up, ever slowly. Christine gaped at the woman's body when it was freed from the chemise, marveling at such smooth, golden skin, feeling privileged to look on such beauty and also jealous that she did not look that way. Tall, graceful even when still, full breasts, strong dancer's legs that still looked incredibly soft, narrow hips. Christine sighed in envy.

"What is the matter?" Sorelli's black brows were furrowed in concern.

"You are very beautiful," Christine murmured, looking down, unable to keep the hint of sadness from her voice. "That is all."

One gentle finger lifted her chin up to meet Sorelli's gaze. "And you do not think you are?"

Christine did not answer, and Sorelli took her hand and led her from the bathroom into the bedroom, turning Christine to face the vanity mirror. They looked at her naked body, and Sorelli trailed light hands up and down Christine's arms. Christine could feel Sorelli's warmth close behind her.

"Look at you," Sorelli breathed into her ear. "Look at your creamy skin, your rosy flush…" A soft kiss to Christine's warm cheek followed, and perfect hands ran down her slim sides and wide hips. She shivered. "Look at your soft curves, your petite form. Such a beautiful face, and beautiful hair. Those sapphire blue eyes… You could drive anyone mad, Christine Daaé." Sorelli's voice was low, seductive, breathy, and Christine put her hands atop the one's exploring her body with a quiet, longing whimper, beginning to tremble with want.

Sorelli grasped Christine's breasts, first massaging softly and then playing with the hard, pink buds there. Christine bit her lip to hold back a moan, her thighs clenching together where she stood. Watching the scene in the mirror before them was almost too much, and she felt she had to shut her eyes.

As soon as her eyes slid closed, one of Sorelli's hands slid down, down her stomach and lower. Christine stepped her legs apart to allow the soft hand access to the sensitive place between them, and she moaned softly when it made contact, ever gently.

Oh, it felt good. So good, and she swam with moisture. But Christine did not want to be selfish. Sorelli was the one who deserved to be pleasured, after all the woman had done for Christine. "M-may I touch you, Sorelli?" Christine gasped, and she felt the smile on Sorelli's lips when it pressed to her neck.

"Of course."

Sorelli took Christine's hand and led her to the bed, and they both sat on the edge, facing one another. Christine leaned up to kiss Sorelli's full lips again, loving how soft they felt against her own, and then kissed the woman's neck, pausing every so often to inhale the wonderful scent that was naturally Sorelli. As Christine kissed, she also touched, trailing fingers hesitantly down Sorelli's silky arms, legs, torso.

Knowing how sensitive her own breasts were, Christine placed her small hand against one of Sorelli's full mounds, grabbing and massaging the flesh softly. She remembered how Philippe's mouth on this part of her had made her feel the night before, and Christine kissed her way down to Sorelli's other breast, closing her mouth over the hard bud. She swirled her tongue around it and then sucked, testing, and Sorelli's soft moan was enough encouragement to continue.

After a moment, Sorelli took Christine's hand that had been on her other breast and guided it down, and Christine inhaled a bit sharply when it touched the warm, ever silky soft place between the woman's legs. Christine touched Sorelli with hesitance, exploring this secret place and learning how to make the woman moan and shudder and sigh and coo.

Christine dared to let one finger slip inside the warm wetness, coating in Sorelli's arousal and then coming up to tease the spot she knew was the most important from what she learned the previous night. What else had she learned…

Pausing her attentions, Christine gently coaxed Sorelli to lie down on the bed. Both women had flushed cheeks and hazy eyes as they looked at one another, and Christine bit her lip before asking in a hoarse whisper, "May I kiss you?"

Sorelli nodded heavily, and Christine slowly bent down to first kiss her mouth, then her neck, then chest, then stomach, imitating the sequence Philippe had used on Christine herself. Shaky hands coaxed Sorelli's legs apart, and Christine finally kissed her between them, remembering how exquisite it had felt for her, and hoping it would be the same for Sorelli.

The woman tangled her fingers into Christine's damp hair, encouraging with a soft moan. Christine kissed and licked the delicate area, her tongue swirling and her lips sucking the spot that made Sorelli cry out the most. "Fingers, too," Sorelli demanded in a soft, high-pitched voice filled with need, and Christine willingly obliged, inserting two fingers into the tight, wet warmth without faltering her mouth's work.

"Oh, yes!" Sorelli rasped, sounding dazed and pleasantly surprised, and her fingers were tightening their grip in Christine's hair. Christine could feel Sorelli squirming and shuddering, and she intensified her attentions, fingers quickening their pace and tongue massaging more firmly. When Sorelli finally vocalized her release in a loud cry, Christine could not hold back a moan of her own, finding herself extremely aroused by giving another woman such pleasure. Only when the woman relaxed altogether did Christine stop.

"My God. Where did you learn to do that, little Daaé?" Sorelli gasped.

Christine sat up with a smug smirk, shrugging. "Philippe, I suppose."

They both giggled, and Sorelli sat up to kiss Christine's glistening lips, then trailing kisses down. "Are you very sore, still?"

"A little," Christine admitted in a sigh, her eyes rolling back a bit when Sorelli kissed and sucked at her neck.

"Hmm," Sorelli hummed. "I will be especially gentle, then."

Christine was the one being guided to lie down now, and Sorelli paid ample attention to Christine's breasts first, until each nipple was glistening and swollen and Christine burned for more. Christine spread her legs when Sorelli kissed downward, much more than ready to be devoured. She shivered in anticipation as Sorelli kissed the insides of her thighs slowly, softly, teasingly. Christine reached down and touched the woman's silky hair, silently praying to be kissed where she needed to be kissed the most, and fast.

Finally, finally, Sorelli swiped her warm, soft tongue up Christine, and Christine whimpered, shuddering. She felt as if she were on fire, burning, and the only way the flames would be doused were by the sweet licks Sorelli bestowed upon her most intimate spot. The woman's hands still toyed with Christine's breasts, long, perfect fingers pinching the hard, pink buds, only intensifying the ache for release Christine felt. Sorelli seemed to know exactly where Christine screamed the most, focusing every soft, gentle lick right on that spot, and it was not long before Christine began to see white, hot light behind her closed eyes. Crying out, Christine exploded, her back arching and her body jerking before finally sinking into a relaxed puddle of limbs.

Sorelli lied down next to her, and they both breathed heavily, looking at each other with startled, delighted eyes.

"What a delightful morning," Christine eventually said, awed, and Sorelli laughed.

"I agree. Now, we must get you ready for the Vicomte's return home this evening." Sorelli grinned wickedly as she jumped up from the bed. "Let me choose you the perfect dress for dinner. Tonight's meal will no doubt prove…interesting."

Oh, God. Dinner. With Raoul, Philippe, and Sorelli.

Christine huffed out a stressed breath as she stared at the ceiling.

Yes, dinner would prove interesting. No doubt.