Part One Hundred And Twenty Seven
On the Sunday afternoon, the sun returned to the temperature of a couple of weeks before, and George decided to make the most of it. With her garden being enclosed by tall hedges and high fences, not to mention being extremely detached from its neighbour's houses, George thought that a little all over sunbathing wouldn't go amiss. She lay on the softly cushioned sunbed, with a cold, refreshing drink to hand, idly reading her way through a fairly lighthearted novel. Her skin glistened with sun lotion, with the light breeze occasionally blowing strands of hair into her eyes. The French windows to the lounge were wide open, so that she could hear the soft music coming from inside. The heavy velvet curtains were shut across the open doors, because sunlight and exquisite paintings should never be mixed. A sky blue cotton wrap, the only thing covering her when she'd come outside, was draped over the back of the bench. The feel of the sun on her body was almost intoxicating, gradually making her eyes grow heavy, and causing every muscle to relax. She barely noticed when the book fell from her hand onto the paving slabs, her hand coming to rest by her side as she slept.
Finding herself at something of a loose end on the Sunday afternoon, Jo thought she may as well drop in on George. They hadn't had a decent chat for ages, though Jo was honest enough to admit that this wasn't her only reason. It had been a week since the dream she'd had of George, since she'd woken up with such a random collection of feelings whirling round in her head. It had greatly disturbed her to dream of actually sleeping with, no, making love with George, and in truth, she hadn't known how she was supposed to react. Yes, she knew she was attracted to George, and she knew that she'd been the one to initiate their kiss, but that was a whole league away from what she'd dreamt about last Saturday night. She knew her emotional outburst had been ridiculous, but the feelings George had created in her were so new, so intense, that it had felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her. But it was the incident that had precipitated the dream that Jo knew they needed to talk about. The way George had looked at her in that rehearsal last week, the way she'd gazed at her whilst singing of such words of love and commitment, that had told Jo in no uncertain terms, that George still felt the attraction too. So, when she arrived at George's, and saw that only her car was in the drive, she was relieved. But when she rang the doorbell, she got no answer. Thinking that George must be out in the back garden, Jo made her way towards the little gate at the side of the house. When she rounded the corner and took in the sight before her, she stood stock still, her eyes widening with shock, and her mouth going instantly dry. George was lying, stark naked on a sunbed, her small, perfect breasts pointing up at the clear, blue sky, and not a single stitch concealing an inch of gloriously bare skin. George was obviously asleep, because Jo could see a few strands of her soft, blonde hair drifting over her face in the light, summer breeze. George had never looked so angelic, with her long, pretty legs, and the tiniest of narrow waists, and with those breasts that just begged to be caressed. It was this thought that brought another revelation to Jo's mind. This was roughly what George had looked like in her dream, though in that grassy meadow, George's tan had been considerably more advanced than it was now. As Jo carefully and quietly approached her, two things caught her eye, the second of which made her blush. She saw the book that had fallen from George's hand as she slept, and she also took in the fact that George was as smooth skinned and hairless as the day she was born. God almighty, Jo thought as she drew nearer, George's body was utterly delectable, the thing of fantasy. No wonder John hadn't ever really been able to move on from her. As she put a hand out to gently shake George's shoulder, she couldn't help but catch sight of the reaction that George's body appeared to be having to some inner thought. Her breathing wasn't entirely steady, and her nipples were as hard as bullets. Jo didn't think the breeze would have caused this to happen, so it must be from whatever George was dreaming about.
When George felt the touch on her shoulder, and became aware of the voice saying her name, she opened her eyes and gazed up blissfully into Jo's face. "Mmm," She groaned luxuriously. "Am I still dreaming?" "No," Jo told her with a smile. "You're burning." This seemed to wake George up fully, and her eyes widened as she realised that this wasn't the Jo she'd been dreaming about standing next to her, but the real one, the one who definitely wasn't acquainted with the skills necessary for making love to a woman. "Oh, god," George said, sitting up suddenly with the realisation that she wasn't wearing anything whatsoever. "What are you doing here?" "Nice to see you too," Jo said with a laugh, handing George's wrap to her from off the back of the bench. "George, only you would do something as decadent as sunbathe naked, in a back garden that anyone can walk into." "Well, I wasn't exactly expecting company this afternoon," She said, tugging the wrap around her body, taking away entirely too much of the view Jo had been enjoying. The blue cotton material tied just above her breasts, leaving her arms and shoulders bare, and stopping just above her knees. "I need a cold drink," George said, picking up the book and her empty glass. "would you like one?" Saying that she definitely would, Jo followed George into the kitchen.
After pouring Jo a glass of orange juice on the rocks, which would fast melt into pebbles, George filled her own glass with ice cold water from the fridge. She had her back to Jo, and was using the time taken up with pouring drinks, to battle her senses back into their proper order. She'd been dreaming about Jo, she wasn't sure what, but it was certainly something delicious, and then she'd woken up, to find Jo looking down at her. Had Jo been able to see how aroused she was, George didn't know. George could feel the rising tension in her body, all because Jo was here, in her house, and because they were alone. Nothing, except her own and perhaps Jo's self-control, would stop them from following the course of their feelings. As if sensing her thoughts, Jo stepped up to her, put her arms round George from behind, and removed the bottle of Evian from her hand, putting it down on the worktop. When George turned within the circle of her arms to face her, they just stared at each other, both wanting to say so much, but neither quite able to find the right words. When Jo lowered her lips to George's, it felt to both of them as if the earth wire had been removed, causing electricity to spark between them without a stopping point. George was leaning against the kitchen unit, but she wrapped her arms around Jo's waist for support, feeling that she might just fly away if she didn't. Jo's arms went round George's shoulders, her fingers running through her slightly tousled hair. There wasn't an inch of space between them, making Jo become suddenly aware of George's hardened nipples. "I take it you're pleased to see me," Jo said with a smile. Realising what she must be referring to, George laughed softly. "I've never had a dream come true before," George said, inwardly cursing herself for sounding so soppy. "You look beautiful," Jo told her between kisses. "Is that referring to how I look now," George asked lasciviously. "Or to how I looked when you found me?" "Both," Jo said in that deep, slightly husky voice that was setting all George's nerve endings on fire. "Though you do now look a bit overdressed." George knew that she could have stayed where she was for all eternity, with Jo closer to her than she'd ever been, but eventually detaching her lips from Jo's, she said, "I think we need to talk, don't you?" "Yes," Jo replied, also reluctant to end this moment of sheer bliss. Picking up her glass of water, George slipped her hand into Jo's, and led her into the lounge.
They sat close together on the sofa, Jo's arm going around George as if of its own accord. Taking a long swig of her drink, George put it down on the coffee table. Neither of them seemed to know where to start, both of them knowing that once begun, this conversation might open up more secret feelings than either could ever have thought possible. "I dreamt about you last weekend," Jo eventually began, thinking that this was as good a place as any. "Did you?" George asked, a soft smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Yes, after last week's rehearsal. George, no one has ever looked at me in the way you did then, not even John. It was incredible. You looked pretty much as you did today, all sun tanned, and presenting the most erotic display I think I've ever seen. But when I woke up from it, I was so confused. I haven't had a dream as intense as that for a long time, and certainly not about a woman." "Did you wake up to an orgasm?" George asked knowingly, turning Jo's face towards her, so as not to miss anything that might be betrayed by those endless blue eyes. "Yes," Jo told her simply. "And the fact that John was there didn't help. I couldn't stop crying because I didn't know how to feel." Reaching across for Jo's other hand, George held it gently in her own, occasionally running her thumb over the knuckles. "Part of me was cross with you, for giving me the idea in the first place, on that Sunday afternoon when I saw you and Karen together. But then the rest of me wanted to experience everything we'd done in my dream for real. When I kissed you, that first time, that was the most reckless, unplanned thing I've ever done. Well, apart from initially sleeping with John when I was his student. But it felt right, and it does now. George, you make me do exactly what I feel, rather than what I think I should do, and I'm not used to that. I thought that if I didn't see much of you, what I felt might go away. I thought the same would happen to you too, that we'd both discover it was something we'd both felt when you were drunk, and I should have known better. But it hasn't, and now I don't want it to." "Do you know just how many times I've thought about you, thought about how sensational that kiss was? Jo, I couldn't go back to not finding you incredibly attractive, if I tried. I can't explain what I feel for you. I wish I could, but I can't. You might not want to hear it," She continued a little nervously. "But whenever you're with me, I feel whole, complete, as if there's no longer anything missing. I have absolutely no idea where this is going, and in one way, that frightens me, because I don't want to do or say anything that might send you away from me." As if to qualify her words, George leant slightly forward to ever so softly graze her lips over Jo's, almost as if to show Jo how precious she was to her. But their kisses didn't stay gentle for long, they both needing to fulfill that primeval urge that exists in all of us. Jo didn't know what led her to do what she did next, it may have been because she wanted it herself, it may have been because she'd done this in her dream. But when George felt Jo running a delicate finger over her breast, just under her nipple, the cotton fabric of the wrap providing an exquisite feeling of friction, she took Jo's hand in hers, and moved her face slightly away from her. "No," She said almost breathlessly. "No." Thinking she must have done something unforgivable, Jo looked horrified for a moment. But her look turned to one of understanding, when she observed George's inner battle with her feelings. George gripped Jo's hand, a shudder running the entire length of her body, as she gathered the remnants of her self-control, and fought down the urge to make love to Jo, right here on the sofa. When George thought she could speak without shattering all her efforts completely, she said, "Darling, there is nothing I would like more, than to show you every delicious thing I've dreamt of doing to you for weeks now, but you're not ready for it." Jo watched her, seeing the immense effort it had taken for George to prevent herself from doing exactly what she wanted to do. It touched her enormously that George was quite obviously prepared to put Jo's feelings a long way before her own, not something John would have done in a million years. He would never have forced or cajoled anyone into sleeping with him, but neither would he have stopped himself once begun, if he'd been given the type of encouragement she had just given George. "I'm sorry," Jo said, feeling like an immature teenager embarking on her first sexual experience. "Don't be," George told her with a reassuring smile. "If and when I do eventually make love to you, I want you to enjoy every second of it. You've got no idea, just how much I want to make you let go with me, because making love with a woman is like nothing you've ever felt in your life before. What I don't want it to be, is a five minute fumble, because I'm more on heat than I was at seventeen." Jo couldn't help laughing, putting both herself and George at ease. "You really do have a way with words," She said with a broad smile. "So I've been told," George said with a smirk. "But I'm serious, I want this to happen when we're both good and ready for it. We have all the time in the world, and because John doesn't know about it, that means that nothing, and I mean nothing, needs to be rushed. Just take it one day at a time," She finished, laying a gentle hand against Jo's cheek, vowing to take this as slowly as possible, because Jo was far too precious to her to take it at anything other than her pace. John, Karen, the entire world could wait until they were good and ready to bring it out into the open, if they ever were, which was by no means a certainty.