So we rudely had a time jump right after Mercedes boldly went and eyed Barbara's naked body. Clearly we needed more information between then and them making sweet love for the first time. The next couple of vignettes is me filling in the gaps.
January 1958 – Villa Ruisenor
Barbara carried a basket on her arm. She walked down the dusty street of Villa Ruisenor, heading towards the town square with quick, light steps, the curl of her dark hair bouncing against her back as she moved. It was summer, dry and hot. The sun was high in the sky against a brilliant blue sky, baking the earth into a hard crust, making the leaves of the tree at the town square wilt and the shrubs singe at the edges. As she turned the corner that lead to the school, she glanced around but saw no one; the stores were closed for lunch and people had retreated to their homes for their siesta. She slipped through the picket fence of the Catholic Girl's school and through the front door.
There she stopped as she stepped onto the wooden floorboards of the corridor, placing the basket on the ground and from her handbag extracting a compact mirror. She smoothed down her hair and lightly ran her fingers under her eyes to remove the eyeliner that had smudged. She used a handkerchief to dab away the perspiration at the base of the neck resultant from the fifteen minute walk into town. Her red lipstick refreshed, she surveyed herself in the mirror a moment and, satisfied, clicked the compact shut.
She proceeded carefully on the tips of her toes so as not to announce her arrival. As she drew near the principal's office she caught sight of Mercedes through the glass pane door, seated at the solid wood desk that dominated the room. Her head was bent as she poured over some papers, her pencil tapping rhythmically on the table, a frown of concentration making the skin between her brows crease and her eyes narrow. Her hair was pinned up, revealing the length of her neck as she craned forward. Barbara watched a moment.
Mercedes looked up as if sensing Barbara's presence and their eyes met through the glass pane. The crease on her brow smoothed and she smiled, her eyes dancing as she straightened herself and motioned the other woman though.
"Barbarita." She called.
"I though you might be here." Barbara said depositing the basket and handbag on a chair and then leaning forward, her palms pressing onto the desk. "It is the holidays, you know."
"Yes and it is also my chance to make sure everything is in order for the new principal."
Mercedes said this as she too leaned forward across the desk, resting her chin in her hands and looked up at Barbara. Her eyes were a particularly arresting shade of grey today and the low cut of her top revealed a creamy bosom that rose and fell as she breathed. Barbara allowed her eyes to linger there, remembering the way Mercedes' had linger on her body the previous day. She hadn't stopped thinking about it; of Mercedes slipping unannounced into the bathroom, drawn by what could only be a desire to watch her undress. There had been something tentative in her gaze as the eyes had flickered down her body but it had felt like a fire over Barbara's skin and she burned still from it. She wondered what would have happened if Estella hadn't arrived at that moment. Would she have had the courage to walk across the bathroom to where Mercedes stood, to take her hand and place it on her skin? Would Mercedes have crossed the spaced to her?
She flushed and looked up to see something stormy in Mercedes' eyes and it made her mouth dry. She licked her lips.
"I thought I might be able to distract you with a picnic." she said
"But, Barbarita, I still have all this..."
"It'll keep!" she said skirting the desk, her hands seeking Mercedes' to pull her up to standing. She stepped in, forcing Mercedes' head to crane up to look at her. "Besides, we got interrupted yesterday."
Now it was Mercedes who blushed, her eyes dropping down and she did not look up again. Barbara leaned in further, her lips brushing against an ear.
"I liked it." she whispered hotly.
"Barbara..." Mercedes murmured in protest, but the name on her lips sounded raspy and warm and she seemed to tremble. Her forehead pressed against Barbara's shoulder a moment before she stepped in, her arms wrapping around her waist, her head shifting so that her nose found its way into the crook of Barbara's neck and inhaled, hands splaying on her back to press her close. Barbara's hand rose to Mercedes' hips to anchor herself, she felt a tightness in her chest like she might burst, her breath was tight and shallow .
"Not here, pequiena," Barbara managed to say, 'It's not safe."
XXXX
Their eye darted about as they climbed over the crumbling stone wall at the end of the street and passed through an orchard of apricots, apples and cherry's that led to the stream. There they removed their shoes and waded across, Barbara almost slipping on smooth riverbed stones. Steadying hands at her waist saved her. Clambered the bank, they laughed at her near miss. Barefoot, Mercedes lead the way, their feet pressing into the dry earth as they threaded into the scrub.
"I know a place." she said to Barbara, interlacing their hands together to pull her along.
On the crest of a hill, on yellowing grass behind an outcropping of rocks, they lay on a blanket. From their spot they were kept hidden from view but their vantage point afforded them an outlook over farmland and vineyards beyond. Barbara leaned against the thick trunk of a tree that shaded them from the glaring sun, her hand threading idly through Mercedes' loosened hair that cascaded over her legs. Eyes closed, Mercedes' face looked serene, a hint of a smile on her lips. One of her legs was bent, the foot tucked under her knee and her skirt had ridden up to mid thigh reveling smooth skin. An arm carelessly flung to the ground, the other resting heavy on her stomach. Barbara liked Mercedes like this, her guard down, trusting, open.
They'd eaten Barbara's picnic of empanadas, sweet corn and salad and with their stomachs full, the hazy afternoon and the drone of the insects lulled them. The light fell, dappled through the leaves, onto their skin and, through half lidded eyes, Barbara's fingers slowly began to trace the light on Mercedes's forehead. Mercedes sighed as they trailed down her cheek, along her neck, across her clavicle and back again. She traced the path a few more times, her fingertips tingling as they strayed lower towards the exposed swell of Mercedes' breast, each time illiciting a stronger response. She was fascinated, her whole being coming to focus on that touch, how it made Mercedes' breath deepened, made her breasts rise more sharply until her fingers scraped along the neckline of her top, edging under the hem and two blue eyes snapped open, pupils dilated, to meet her own. Barbara felt the air press out of her and her stomach drop away.
She lifted Mercedes' head off her lap and she scooted down beside her, propping herself up on one elbow and her other hand smoothing across Mercedes' stomach, moving to curl around her slender waist. The hand that lifted to trace up Barbara's forearm, tactile encouragement for her to continue, left goosebumps. The buzz of the insects, the rustle of leaves in the lazy breeze seem to fade and all that was left was the two of them, quiet in the silence that descended upon them, like time did not exist. Barbara could scarcely believe that this astounding woman lay there next to her, being who she was and wanting the same thing she wanted. It seemed impossible that such a person existed in the world, she could never have dreamed it. She saw Mercedes' eyes moved to her lips and then back up again, the invitation clear in her gaze as she lay there on the picnic blanket and Barbara needed no further encouragement. She leaned over pressing their mouths together. She took her time, deepening the kiss slowly, relishing the huff of Mercedes breath against her cheek and the way her hand held on to her bicep, fingertips pulling her closer. Mercedes parted her lips and the tip of Barbara's tongue entered, scraping along the roof of her mouth. This was new. They'd kissed before but never with Mercedes on her back, not with her body pressing into Mercedes' side, not with this aching warmth, this depth, this want. It curled in and around her, heat in her belly, ache between her legs and a deep tenderness in her heart that only inflamed with the way Mercedes pushed into the kiss, her hand threading around to the back of her neck.
Barbara shifted, a leg sliding over Mercedes', skin like silk against her own. She wanted more. She wanted to touch her. Her hand moved from the waist her fingertips trailed up, her hand coming to cup Mercedes' breast through the cotton of her t-shirt. She could feel the stiff peak of a nipple against her palm. She groaned softly, her leg settling between Mercedes thighs and pressing down, her hips rocking instinctively.
She felt Mercedes gasp and pull away.
"Espera, espera, espera." Mercedes mumbled breathlessly, the hand on her neck unwinding to press her gently away
"What is it?"
Mercedes couldn't seem to find the words to say anything as she lay there, panting, her eyes transparent and uncertain.
"Too fast?" Barbara asked softly.
Mercedes nodded, her forehead crinkling up in concern. Her eyes were apologetic.
"I understand, mi pequiena." Barbara said giving her a reassuring smile and kissed the tip of her nose.
"Lo siento, Barbara." she whispered.
"It's okay." Barbara said , her hand cupping Mercedes face, the thumb brushing the edge of her mouth. She looked at Mercedes in the eyes. "It's okay."
Lying down on her back, she pulled Mercedes into her arms. She felt the other woman hesitate before settling in, her nose finding its place in the crook of her neck, her arm across her midsection, a leg draping over hers. She inhaled the clean lemon scent of Mercedes' hair. Her heart felt close to bursting with the tenderness she felt, the sudden, fierce, protective swell of emotion that washed over her. She felt like she could wait forever if she could hold her like this, the warm, heavy weight of Mercedes' body next hers, if she could kiss her and whisper sweet words to her.
They lay quietly like this.
"Tell me about the book you're reading." Barbara said rubbing circles on Mercedes' back.
She listened to her beloved's voice lilting cadence, feeling the wet heat between her thighs, her heartbeat quieting, watching the leaves above her, at the translucent green as the sun pierced through. Her responses to Mercedes slowed, the gaps between phrases becoming longer, her eyelids growing heavy until, without meaning to, she fell asleep.
