Thank you so, so much for all your wonderful comments on this fic. Honestly, I wouldn't still be writing without them. You all keep me so motivated and thank you so much!
Sorry this took so long, uni is hectic and honestly isn't looking like improving any time soon, so bear with me!
Hope you enjoy the chapter!x
Song for this chapter: Tiny Dancer (Hold Me Closer) - DJ Ironik ft. Chipmunk & Elton John
Despite their best efforts, it's a couple of days before they manage to see one another again.
Between gruelling surgeries and endless board meetings, they're too rushed off their feet to manage more than a quick 'hello'. Even their text messages dwindle a little. But then it's Saturday and finally they can breathe again.
Sorry I've not seen you much this week. I've missed you. B
Same here. Fancy coming over for dinner tonight? S
Love to. Want me to bring anything over? B
Serena smirks to herself, resists typing something crude.
Just yourself will do. S
::
The dinner is delicious. Serena cooks them spaghetti and meatballs, with homemade garlic bread to accompany and limoncello gelato to finish. She thinks they might both be too full to move afterwards, tiredness taking over them. But then she thinks of how little time she has managed to spend with Bernie over the past couple of days and forces herself to liven up a little.
Together, they just about manage to clear the table and stock up the dishwasher before collapsing onto the sofa. Jason is watching some documentary about arctic birds, so they are careful not to disturb him as Serena pulls a blanket over their legs. Bernie shuffles a little closer to her so that they can both be properly covered by the soft fabric, and Serena stiffens slightly, casting a worried glance over to her nephew.
It is something that often plays on her mind, just what Jason's reaction would be were he to find out about what has been going on between them. She knows instinctively that it would not be in Jason's nature to take issue with the fact that Bernie is a woman. No, it's the logistics of their arrangement that worries her most. If Jason were to discover their relationship as it currently stood, how could he possibly be expected to understand that they are not actually a couple? He always knows, Serena thinks with a smile, just when his auntie is avoiding the truth. He would know that Serena is deeply in love with her co-lead, and definitely would not hesitate to voice his opinion on this. And how could she explain herself to Bernie then? Of course, she plans to tell her at some point how she feels, but for now she still does not feel ready. She wants to, but there's something still holding her back. But if Bernie were to find out from someone else, how would that make her feel? Serena doesn't think it would go down well.
Another shuffle beside her, then Bernie's hand carefully intertwining with her own, beneath the blanket.
It's such a gentle, innocent action that Serena, despite her concerns, can't bring herself to move her hand away. She glances over at her nephew, still absorbed in his programme, and decides that this is okay. That is until Bernie yawns, rests her head on her shoulder. She tenses up, holds her breath.
"This okay?" Bernie murmurs sleepily. Serena bites her lip, her eyes on Jason. How could she explain this?
She feels Bernie still against her, realises she must have noticed her hesitation. Biting her lip, she squeezes the other woman's hand.
"Yes. Yes, of course," she says gently, her posture softening a little. "I just… Jason."
"Oh." Bernie sits up quickly. "Sorry."
"No, no," Serena insists, instantly regretting her words. "I just didn't want… Just let me get comfortable."
Tucking her legs up beneath her, she puts a cushion against the arm of the sofa and rests against it before joining their hands again, tugging Bernie towards her. She does so, and Serena has no problem relaxing into the warmth of the woman by her side. It feels so familiar, she realises. Homely. It's perfect.
They watch the documentary in silence, enjoying the peace after their busy week. Serena thinks about all their nights in the club, thinks about the contrast here. She can't deny that she's counting down the hours until their next meeting, but it's nice to just relax for a while, to just be together.
She feels so warm and relaxed with Bernie in her arms that she allows her eyes to close for a moment, opening them again to find that Jason has gone to bed, and that she must have been sleeping for well over an hour.
"Bernie," she whispers, wincing as her neck aches.
"Five more minutes," the other woman murmurs, turning and burying her face in Serena's shoulder. Serena manages a laugh, shrugging her off.
"Come on, sleepy head. It's late."
Bernie sits up with a grunt.
"I'm going, I'm going."
Serena laughs, patting down a bit of Bernie's hair that has decided to stick out at rather a peculiar angle from where she was laid.
"I wasn't quite saying that."
Bernie shakes her head. "No, I need to get back anyway. It's fine." She goes to stand and wobbles drowsily.
"Come on now, have a minute. You could always stay over if you wanted?"
Bernie raises an eyebrow at her automatically and Serena blushes.
"I mean in the spare room, of course."
Serena blushes harder at the smirk Bernie throws her way, but then the other woman stands.
"Don't worry about it; I fancy a walk anyway. It's a lovely night."
Standing too, Serena casts a glance out of the front window. It's a dark and cold night, the rain gently pattering at the windows.
"Nonsense. Get a cab."
Bernie laughs. "A bit of rain never hurt anyone."
"Now that's definitely not true," Serena counters, following Bernie to the front door as she goes to put on her coat.
"I like walking in the rain. When I was training, we did a few weeks in Thailand," she reminisces, stepping into her shoes. "It was one of the worst tropical storms they'd had in donkeys' years. Everyone was moaning but I was having the time of my life."
Serena smiles at her, knowing her eyes have softened with affection but not caring enough to hide it. She could listen to Bernie talking about her career for days on end, she thinks. It's so fascinating, all the places she's been. It really makes her heart melt. And the thought of Bernie in her full battle fatigues isn't a bad one either…
"Well, I'll be off then."
Bernie smiles at her, rests her hand on her arm, leans in to kiss her on the cheek. But then Serena turns her head, instead captures her lips with her own, savours every second.
It's only when she hears Bernie's confused grunt that she realises that Bernie was in fact not intending to kiss her on the lips.
"Sorry," she gasps as she pulls away, holding her hand to her mouth. Her cheeks have flushed embarrassingly, and she avoids eye contact.
"No, no," Bernie replies, her hand still resting on Serena's arm. "I, er…" She clears her throat, and Serena looks up to see her blushing too. "I wasn't complaining."
She offers Serena that heartwarming, soft smile she loves so much and Serena feels her heart skip a beat. She thinks briefly how ridiculous it is that they're being like this; they kiss all the time, yet this small accident has thrown them both off kilter. Her eyes, meet Bernie's and she decides, now, to take a leap.
Holding her breath, she leans into the other woman, grazing her lips against hers torturously before kissing her so slowly, so tenderly, it makes her head spin and her toes tingle and her stomach turn in somersaults.
She wants to continue, wants to pounce on Bernie and rip her clothes off right there, but… The moment is just too precious. She wants to pocket it, keep it forever. It's so gentle and pure, her heart fluttering away as if she were fifteen and reliving her first kiss. So after several seconds she forces herself to pull away, her cheeks scarlet and her head light.
"I…" Bernie tries to speak, finds she's speechless, and Serena giggles as she finds herself with the same problem.
"Sorry." Serena takes a step back, and Bernie drops her hand to interlink their fingers, keeping her close.
"Never be sorry," she murmurs, her cheeks rosy.
"I… I'll see you at work," Serena stammers, struggling to keep the elation out of her voice. She has seen this woman naked, has tasted her, has made her come, yet just the most innocent of kisses has left her undone, flustered beyond belief. And it's the most exhilarating feeling.
"Yes, yes, of course. I'll see you." Bernie gives her hand one last squeeze before turning, opening the door, stepping out into the cold night.
As she watches Bernie disappear down the driveway, Serena has a realisation. Perhaps this is how it's meant to be. The butterflies, the awkwardness, the hesitancy. Just as though they were right at the beginning. And they are, really, Serena thinks. Sure, they've crosses boundaries that no friends would ever go near, and then some, but when it comes to romance… this is all new. They've never been on a date, never had that etiquette forced upon them. Serena thinks this just might be her problem. She can't get out of the zone of mind that she is Bernie's customer, that this is all falsified. She needs to build another relationship with her friend; a romantic one. Just the thought of dating Bernie Wolfe has her heart fluttering all over again, and she knows that she's figured it out. She knows what she has to do.
::
That doesn't stop her, the next time she enters the club, from pouncing on Bernie as though her life depends on it, devouring her, moaning and writhing and gasping and groaning like a woman gone mad. She just can't resist her. When Bernie looks at her in that way… But still she manages to keep her hands to herself, always. That's the golden rule and until Bernie tells her otherwise, that's what she'll stick to.
::
Outside of the club, however, those rules don't fully apply, although she never quite lets herself go as far as she'd like. She can thread her fingers through Bernie's hair, run her hands over her back, over her ass, but any more than that she refuses to allow herself, even if Bernie is driving her absolutely wild.
And that, she does.
Not that Serena is particularly complaining.
She had intended to keep to her resolve, to keep their physical relationship to the club and to slowly build a romantic relationship with Bernie out of it, but…
"Ah, I wondered where you'd gotten to!"
Serena starts as Bernie appears before her in the peace garden. It had been a long shift, and she needed some fresh air, so elected to sit on the bench out here for a bit, enjoying the still of the evening.
Bernie comes and plonks herself down next to her, fishing out a fag and her lighter.
"It's starting to slow down a bit in there," she tells Serena as she lights up, casting a scathing glance at the new 'no smoking' sign that had recently appeared by there and was rarely enforced. Serena smiles tiredly.
"Thank God."
They sit quietly for a few minutes, Bernie finishing her fag and Serena taking in the comfortable silence.
"You're shivering."
Before she knows what is happening, Bernie is shucking off her hoodie and wrapping it around Serena's shoulders.
"You don't have to…"
She stops as she realises how close Bernie is to her, how close her face is to hers. Her breath stops, her heart skipping and her stomach dropping. Bernie is so close. It's been such a long day, she thinks. She's so tired.
So she kisses her.
Right there out in the open, with out a thought as to who might be around. She kisses her desperately, eliciting the most wonderful of whimpers from her friend. They kiss, and they kiss and kiss and kiss until Serena's pager goes off, her hand quickly dropping from Bernie's hair and Bernie's from beneath her blouse.
And that's how it starts.
Two days later, they find themselves in the supply closet at the same time. A complete accident, of course. But before they know it, Bernie has Serena pinned up against the wall, a fountain of whispered affections gushing from her mouth as she showers Serena with wet, hot kisses that go straight between her legs and leave her in absolute ruins for the remainder of the day.
And then there's their home life. Bernie still comes round for tea, yes, and Serena intends with all of her heart for it to remain civil. But then Jason goes to bed and one thing leads to another and before they know it Bernie is straddling her on the sofa, both of their blouses undone and chests flushed with the heat of their kisses.
"Have dinner with me."
The words burst out of Serena on a gasp, without even meaning to say it. She freezes and Bernie pulls back to look at her, frowning.
"You mean Friday? I already agreed—"
"No, no," Serena interrupts quickly, before she loses her nerve. "I mean a dinner, dinner. Proper dinner. Out. You know, three courses, bottle of wine, fancy restaurant, no Jason. What do you think?"
She holds her breath at Bernie's pause.
"You mean a date?"
Her heart stops. It fills her with fear to admit to this, but, finally, she thinks she might almost be ready to take the leap.
"Yes, a date."
The moments in which it takes Bernie to respond are perhaps the longest in Serena's life. And when she replies that she'd love to, leans down to kiss Serena again as a confirmation, Serena gets such a rush that she has to break away, relieved laughter bubbling out of her and leaving them both in a giddy heap on the sofa.
::
Work is a chore. For the most part, they spend it either avoiding one another's eyes or sending each other dirty looks from across the room. On occasion, Bernie looks at Serena with such a hunger that it almost breaks her, almost has her grabbing her by the arm and dragging her to the nearest supply cupboard to have her wicked way with her.
The only thing that gets her through is the thought of their date next week, and the fact that she can have Bernie later. But her mood is destroyed when she remembers that in fact, they will not be attending the club tonight, rather Oliver Valentine's birthday drinks at Albie's instead. It sets her on edge for the remainder of the day. And when Bernie approaches her at the nurses' station later that day, she doesn't even look up, preoccupied with her bad mood.
"What time are you thinking of arriving tonight?" She asks. Serena blinks.
"I'm sorry?"
"Albie's. Valentine's birthday. What time are you getting there?"
She pauses for a reply for the several moments it takes Serena's disgruntled brain to process this, one eyebrow arched.
"Oh, yes. I was going to go about eight o'clock. Yourself?"
"I'll make it about then too, then. Do you fancy sharing a taxi?"
Serena stops, staring at her for a moment, her eyes wide with the unintentional implication. Bernie realises this and holds up her hands.
"Oh! I didn't mean—"
"I know you didn't," Serena interrupts with half a reassuring nod. "That would be marvellous. Thank you."
"Great." Bernie breathes out a relieved sigh, running a hand through her hair. She gazes at Serena, who has gone back to her paperwork. "Are you alright?"
Serena frowns at her. "Of course. Why?"
"You seem a little off, that's all."
Their eyes meet for a few moments, before Serena gives up and runs a hand over her face.
"I just really don't have the energy for tonight. There are far more interesting ways I could be spending my time." Bernie catches her eye at this and grins, and Serena looks down with a blush.
"Well," Bernie begins, standing a little closer. "We could always find some way to…" She brushes her fingers across the small of Serena's back, making her shiver. "To entertain ourselves."
Serena's eyes widen, her mouth opening slightly, her whole body heating up at the feeling of Bernie's delicate fingers through her blouse. Holding her breath, she turns to look her friend in the eye and her stomach drops at the pure lust she sees. It's all she can do not to pounce on her right there.
"Trauma call!"
They jerk apart, Bernie rushing off with a wink as Serena gathers herself, cursing her body for reacting so intensely to Bernie's touch. All she wants to do is slope off to the toilets and sort out the mess that Bernie has make of her underwear, but then another patient is rushed in and she's off, forcing herself to forget the burning between her thighs and to concentrate on saving the life before her.
::
The night at Albie's starts slowly. Somehow, hey manage to arrive before most of the others, so the first half an hour is spent sat at the bar listening to Fletch moan about Mikey getting in trouble at school, again, and Evie's increasing interest in boys too old for her. They listen dutifully, nodding in all the right places, resisting gazing at one another instead.
Before long, the rest of the party arrive, and so they manage to evade Fletch's rambling and instead socialise with some of their other colleagues. They end up in different circles, Bernie chatting to her old friends on Keller and Serena discussing some new equipment with Jac Naylor. They can't help but glance at one another across the room, though, both looking away quickly when their eyes meet for fear of blushing. And so most of the night continues like that.
Around ten, when the party is just getting in full-swing, Serena finds herself sat on one of the sofas in the corner of Albie's with Ric and Jac, watching in amusement as the rest of the party lines up what seems to be their eleventh round of shots. With a heavy sigh, she stares down into her glass of Shiraz and is just wondering where on earth Bernie has gotten to when she feels a hand on her shoulder.
"Hello."
She can tell instantly by the slurring of Bernie's words and the soppy grin on her face that her friend is ridiculously drunk. Swaying slightly, she perches on the arm of the sofa next to Serena, invading her space. Her stomach swarming with butterflies, Serena casts a wary glance over to Ric and Jac, who are watching with raised eyebrows.
"Could you sit any closer, Ms Wolfe?" Ric asks with suspicion, an amused twinkle in his eye. Serena blushes, looking up at Bernie with alarm and squirming slightly at her hand on her shoulder.
Bernie pauses for a moment, holding his gaze. "These low sofas are murder for my back," she tells him eventually. "Much more comfortable for me sitting up here."
Serena's instant reaction is a frown, and she bites her tongue, resisting the urge to comment on how her back never seems to be a problem for them elsewhere. Ric seems to accept this excuse and nods.
"My bad."
He sips his drink and Serena does the same, eyeing Bernie curiously.
"You're very drunk," she comments with a smirk.
"Am not."
She grins. "Yes you are. How many of them shots have you had?"
"Not many."
"And how many is that?"
Bernie looks at her, fighting the cheeky grin on her lips at Serena's disapproving look. "I think I lost count at eight."
"For goodness sake."
"They're only those fruity ones! There's no alcohol in them." She hiccoughs.
"Clearly." Serena raises an eyebrow, pursing her lips but then breaking into smile as Bernie grins at her.
They hear a cough and realise that they have been lost in one another's gaze for several moments too long now, and Serena quickly turns away, draining her glass.
"Ladies' room," she says by way of explanation, standing up and discarding her glass on the table between them. She can see by the glint in Ric's eye that she will be grilled on this later, and heaves a deep sigh as she pushes through the door to the bathroom, already trying to work out in her head what she could possibly say to shut him up.
She's just closing the door to her cubicle when a hand appears around the side of it.
"Hang on."
Her stomach flipping, she allows Bernie to push her way into the cubicle.
"What are you doing?"
"I wanted to see you," Bernie grins, flicking the lock on the door behind her. She takes a step towards Serena, crowding her against the wall of the cubicle.
"You can see me… out there." Serena's words are interrupted by Bernie's lips brushing her neck, inhaling deep the scent of her perfume and letting out a small growl that sends Serena dizzy.
"Yes, but…" Bernie murmurs into Serena's ear. "Could I do this…" She presses her body flush against Serena's. "Or this…" Serena lets out a soft whimper as Bernie's thigh slips between hers.
"Or this," Bernie whispers against Serena's lips, and the other woman lunges forwards, their lips crashing together furiously. Before she realises it, Serena has knotted her fingers in Bernie's hair, has pushed her up against the opposite wall and is devouring her as if her life depends on it. She hears a low, satisfied chuckle rumble in Bernie's chest and presses herself harder against her, letting out a sharp breath as their tongues touch.
Then she stops, realising herself, fear and self-consciousness turning her stomach cold as her fingers loosen in Bernie's hair. She can't quite believe what she's doing. Usually, during their encounters at the club, she daren't let herself dream of touching her, wouldn't want to disrespect her boundaries like that. Here, however, there has been a shift in their dynamic. The rules have changed. She doesn't know where the boundaries now lie, doesn't know how far she can go, how far she should go. Is it the best way to address their feelings - snogging like teenagers in a pub toilet?
God, just the thought of what they are doing makes her knees weak. Bernie seems to barely notice her pause, instead uses the lull to push Serena backwards up against the opposite wall of the cubicle. She moans loudly as Bernie sucks on her bottom lip, slips her tongue into her mouth again with such ferocious hunger...
"Oh, Serena," Bernie whispers in between kisses. "Oh, your lips. I don't think I could ever... ever taste them enough... You're delicious." She nips gently at her bottom lip and Serena whimpers, her hips pushing forwards against her friend's. Bernie responds eagerly, her hands moving to grasp Serena's arse and grind them together,
"Bernie..." Serena gasps, arching into her, her own hands wrapped around her shoulders. Arousal is burning between her legs, impossibly heightened by the thrill of their situation, and before she can think she is grinding down on her friend's thigh. Bernie bites at her lip, lifting her knee to press more insistently at the other woman's centre and eliciting the most desperate of cries.
In response, Bernie dips her hands below the waistband of Serena's jeans, lifting her until Serena wraps one leg around her.
Then, as she feels Serena's hips rocking against her, she seems to get a rush of courage. She moves one hand from behind Serena to the front of her trousers, rests it over her heat, lets out a shaky breath at Serena's resulting whine.
"Do you want..." She stammers, still struggling to tear herself away from Serena's lips. "I can... Can I...?"
Serena pauses, looks at her through hooded eyes, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed and her breathing rapid. This is... Her aroused brain can't process it, can't work out what she wants. She knows she wants Bernie, but does she want her like this? The burning between her thighs suggests yes, but there's something holding her back. She wants her first time with Bernie to be on equal terms, to above all be about their love, to have feeling. Is this really the right way to achieve that, when neither of them are entirely sure what they are doing?
Her thoughts are interrupted as they hear the clatter of somebody else entering the toilets. They both freeze, Bernie resting her forehead against Serena's and trying desperately to steady her breaths, waiting for the other person to leave them in peace again.
"Serena?"
They stare at one another in panic as Morven calls. Bernie nudges Serena to speak.
"Yes?" Her voice comes out as a squeak, and she clear her throat quickly. "Yes? What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing. Just Fletch and Raf are leaving and wonder if you want to share a taxi? Seeing as we're all off in the same direction."
Serena looks at her watch, raises her eyebrows when she realises they have been in here well over half an hour, smiles to herself when she thinks how easily time passes when she's in Bernie's company.
"Yes, of course. We'll be out in a second." She feels Bernie's grip tighten, see her jaw drop and her eyes widen. "I'll be out in a second."
"Have you seen Ms Wolfe recently? They were talking about giving her a lift as well."
Bernie shakes her head quickly, miming smoking a cigarette.
"No, no. I think she said she was going for a smoke, or to buy some cigarettes. Have a look outside."
Morven pauses, and for a moment Serena thinks she's busted.
"Right. I'll go see. They've ordered the cab for fifteen minutes."
"Good. Thanks, Morven."
They hold their breath until they hear the door click closed, before collapsing against one another in giggles.
"'We'll be out in a minute!'" Bernie splutters, shaking her head.
"Do you think she realised?" Serena asks, genuine concern in her tone despite the laughter.
"I hope not. The whole hospital will know by the time we get in that taxi if she did."
Serena bites her lip, resting her forehead on Bernie's shoulder in embarrassment. "Oh, Lord help us."
"I think we're beyond that," Bernie chuckles, wrapping an arm around Serena's shoulders. "Anyway, speaking of getting rumbled, you should get back out there. If the taxi's due in fifteen minutes and I'm waiting in here five minutes after you go then we'd better look lively."
"You're right." Begrudgingly, Serena steps back from Bernie, immediately missing the contact between them. "Do I look okay?"
Bernie smiles at her, a soft, warm smile that illuminates her entire face and makes Serena's insides turn to jelly.
"You look beautiful."
Bernie says the words with such sincerity that Serena has to bite the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from tearing up. She wants to thank her, wants to kiss her, wants to tell her she loves her, but the emotion in her throat renders her speechless. She could just kiss her, but she feels the moment for all that has passed. It's frustrating, she thinks, how restricted she is by their arrangement. As a lover she would have the right to kiss Bernie whenever she pleased, to say good morning or goodnight, or simply for the hell of it, but as they are she doesn't feel she has that privilege.
"I should get going."
Quickly she unlocks the door, listening for a second to make sure that no one else is there before returning out to the bar. She feels heavy, suddenly, exhaustion both emotional and physical beginning to take hold. Back at the table she lies to the others that she has texted Bernie and she will be back soon. It's exhilarating and tiring in equal measure, this constant hiding. Serena loves the fact that they share this secret, her inner teenager thriving on the thrill. On the other hand, she would like nothing more than to be able to hold Bernie's hand in front of their friends. It's a dilemma she often ponders, but still can't bring herself to address.
"Sorry about that. Off licence was closed."
She turns around to smile conspiringly at her friend as she returns to the table, and she's barely sat down before Raf gets a call to say the taxi has arrived. They avoid eye contact for the journey home, both worried that they will give themselves away if they interact. When the cab finally pulls up outside Bernie's flat, all Serena gets is a quick squeeze on the arm goodbye.
It's not until she gets home herself that she sees she has a message from Bernie.
Can't wait to see you tomorrow. You've left me in quite a state ;) B
Serena bites her lip, her cheeks flushing.
I could say the same. However will I manage the wait? S
She grins to herself at her implication, hanging up her coat and pouring herself one final glass of Shiraz before bed. Jason is already in bed, so she keeps the television on low volume as she settles down on the sofa with her wine in one hand and her phone in the other, awaiting Bernie's reply.
You could always talk to me about it. B
Serena frowns at the message, setting her wine down on the coffee table.
Talk to you about what? S
She's starting to think Bernie has fallen asleep when she gets the next message.
About how you'll 'manage'… B
Serena can't help a small gasp leaving her lips, her eyes widening and chest pounding at the suggestion. She thinks that she shouldn't do this, but the throbbing between her thighs tells her otherwise, and before she can stop herself she's tapping out her reply.
I think that ought to work both ways, don't you? S
Of course. It's only fair ;) B
Serena smirks at the screen and is considering her response when another text comes through.
I'll start by letting you know that I'm typing this with my left hand… B
She can't help but laugh at this, takes another sip of wine before replying.
Oh really? And what might your right hand be doing? S
Loosening her collar, she relaxes back into the sofa, her hips moving softly as she feels that familiar burn between her legs.
Currently on my breast. Just remembering what your lips feel like. B
Serena groans, her own hand creeping up her blouse.
Mine too. Your lips feel so good. S
And yours. You taste so good, Serena. B
She allows her eyelids to flutter closed, imagining Bernie's warm mouth on her nipple.
Do you think it's normal for post-menopausal women to be this constantly horny? S
It's hard to imagine how anyone could not be, when you're around. B
I can't remember anyone ever turning me on more. S
She gasps as she pinches her nipple, imagines Bernie's teeth.
What are you wearing? S
Absolutely nothing. B
Makes a change. S
What about you? B
Same clothes as in Albie's. Can even still smell your perfume on them. S
You like? B
Serena smiles, trying to think of anything she doesn't like about this woman. She shakes her head at how madly in love she must be, beyond all reasonable thought. She thinks they shouldn't be doing this; things could get out of hand all too quickly. But, as she palms herself over her trousers, she decides that may be exactly what they need, decides she going to push her luck as far as she can go.
I do. In fact, one of my favourite things to do after I've been with you is smell you on my clothes whilst I touch myself. It's a very pleasurable pastime. S
She takes another sip of Shiraz as she waits.
Do tell me more ;) B
A pause, considering her words.
I don't think I ever told you about the first night I came to see you. I barely made it up the stairs before I was touching myself, remembering how you felt against me. You made me so wet it was almost embarrassing. Could you smell it? Just thinking about that first night now I can feel myself getting wetter. S
Her eyes widen as she rereads the message, biting her lip as she presses send. It's a while before she gets a reply.
Fucking hell, Serena. I have to say you've quite rendered me speechless. B
Serena smirks, her free hand returning to her breast. She enjoys the sensation for a few moments, picturing Bernie at home doing the same. Just as she's about to reply, she gets another message.
I was the same, you know. Part of the reason I kept my knickers on that first night was so that you wouldn't see just how much you turned me on. After you left I locked myself in the toilets and fucked myself so hard I barely managed to stay standing. You left me in such a mess, Serena. I was in such a state I considered leaving work early, but I knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to stop myself turning up on your doorstep. B
Serena moans aloud, rocks her hips.
Now there's an idea. I have to say I would have been completely at your mercy. You could have done anything you liked to me ;) S
It briefly flashes through Serena's mind that they are crossing a boundary, but she immediately doesn't care. She's too into this to consider anything but Bernie's words to her.
I would have made you come so many times, my name would be all you could speak. I'd taste you over and over until I felt you come in my mouth, then I'd keep going, and keep going, and keep going until you begged me for mercy. B
Oh, that's so hot. I often imagine how you would feel around my tongue. One my favourite daydreams involves you riding my face as I fuck you with my mouth. I want to lap up every last drop of you. S
You're going to make me come and I haven't even started touching myself yet. You have quite a way with words, Ms Campbell. B
Serena groans, her fingers moving to her trouser button.
Touch yourself, Bernie. Imagine my fingers inside you. S
I always do. Every time. B
Serena gasps as she dips her fingers into her pants, feeling herself dripping wet and almost too sensitive to touch. She allows herself to drift off, to imagine Bernie on her fingers, to imagine all the moans and groans and whimpers she would elicit, to imagine how she would feel as she came around her fingers. Her phone buzzes again.
Tell me what you're thinking about. B
I'm thinking about you around my fingers. Thinking how it would feel to make you come. S
She curls her fingers inside herself, moans just a little too loud, bites the insides of her cheeks to stop herself crying out.
Then her phone starts buzzing again, and she sees Bernie's name flash up.
"Hello?"
"Sorry, Serena, I couldn't... couldn't keep typing. I..." Bernie's breaths are ragged as she speaks. Serena lets out a whimper, fingers pumping harder in and out of herself as she clutches the phone to her ear with her free hand.
"God, Bernie. You've... you've got me in such a state." Her breath hitches as she hits a particularly sensitive spot, listening to Bernie's resulting moan.
"Serena... Serena, I'm... God, can you hear what you do to me? I'm burning, I... Listen to what you do to me."
Serena feels a fresh gush of wetness as she listens to the sounds of Bernie pleasuring herself, the sound of her fingers gliding against slick heat as Bernie holds the phone to her cunt. It's so raw, so unexpurgated, so fucking filthy that Serena thinks she could faint.
"Did you hear that? That's your fingers, Serena. Mmh, you feel so good."
Bernie's voice is pure sex, low and sultry and unashamed as Serena listens to her fucking herself, her own sex beginning to contract.
"Bernie, I'm close. I'm so, so close."
She hears Bernie's breath hitch, her voice getting faster along with her thrusts.
"Come for me, Serena. I'm inside you. I'm going to make you come."
"You're so fucking beautiful, Bernie," Serena pants, feeling herself building. "I… God, to feel you around my fingers…"
"Fuck me, Serena," Bernie wails, her breaths ragged. "I'm coming… You're making me come… This is all you."
Those words tip Serena over the edge, coming hard around her own fingers, imagining it's Bernie that she can feel clenching and gushing. She pants through it, biting her lip so hard she can taste blood in an effort to keep herself quiet as she hears the familiar hitching of Bernie's breaths and knows she's coming too. It's sensory overload, and she feels dizzy as she starts to relax, getting her breath back.
"Oh my God, Bernie," she whispers, her voice hoarse. She hears the other woman's smile.
"I know."
"That was—"
"I know."
They sit quiet for several moments, both recovering from what has just happened. It isn't long before Serena's mind is going into overdrive. They have just had phone sex, both whispered their desires into each other's ears in the most explicit of terms and now… Her heart hammers, her stomach flipping as she wonders what the implications of this on their relationship at the club would be. Now they have said these things to one another, have dared to imagine, would this mean that Bernie would finally take it upon herself to whip Serena's trousers off, to fuck her like she had described on the phone? Serena can't help the small whimpers that escapes her lips at this thought, and she curses herself for finding herself throbbing with arousal again. What if this is it? It's wrong, the thought crosses Serena's mind. Bernie knows only a fraction of what she feels for her, thinks that their relationship is entirely based on encounters like this, and that's wrong, she reminds herself. But how on earth is she expected to resist?
They do have their date next week, she remembers. So perhaps all is not lost. She can still keep that side of their relationship, their budding romance. She can still wine and dine Bernie and hope to high heaven that she can get across even a fraction of the pure devotion she feels for her.
In the meantime, however…
She hears Bernie's breaths evening out, realises she's falling asleep.
"Bernie?"
"Hmm?"
She smiles fondly. "I'll speak to you tomorrow. Go to sleep."
Bernie grunts in reply, the alcohol in her system clearly taking over. "Night night."
Serena feels warm with affection as she hangs up the phone, taking a moment to recover herself before making her own way to bed too. Not that she could ever sleep, the possibilities their future now holds making her mind whirr and her heart tremble.
::
The entire following day, Serena's stomach is alive with butterflies at the thought of going to the club that night. She has decided that she wants this, wants to feel Bernie inside her, doesn't care about anything else. And the looks Bernie is giving her…
"Still on for tonight?"
"Of course."
They exchange a glance that makes Serena melt. Bernie notices this, rakes her eyes up and down Serena's body hungrily and makes her knees tremble.
"I'll look forward to it."
::
Later that night, Serena can barely breathe as she gets herself ready for the club. She has a long bath in an effort to relax herself and washes her hair with her favourite shampoo, reserved only for special occasions. She takes her time in applying her makeup, picks out her most flattering dress, even goes to the effort of fiddling about with a suspender belt and stockings rather than the tights she would usually wear.
She's just applying the last coat of lipstick when her phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Serena, it's me."
She smirks. "I'm just about to leave now. I won't be long."
"No, Serena. You can't come to the club tonight."
Serena freezes, frowning. "What? Why, what's happened?"
"Just don't—" She hears a voice in the background as Bernie pauses, but can't make out what they say. "I've got to go. You can't come here any more. Promise me."
"What? Are you not even going to explain—"
"Listen to me, Serena. I don't want you to come here anymore. Okay?"
"But what—"
She hangs up.
Let me know if you enjoyed!x
