Chapter Seven
Christmas
Christmas Day had dawned on Nonnatus, along with a fresh blanket of thick snow. Delia's eyes had snapped open at the sound of a noise at the window only to look over to see a red breasted robin tapping lightly on the glass pane. Poor thing was probably frozen and wanted some warmth she thought sadly, the temperature had dropped again during the night and despite the now functioning heating system, everyone was feeling the cold or at the very least had a sniffle.
Shivering, Delia pulled Patsy closer to her. The two had fallen into the same bed last night. She felt the cold metal of a silver chain and ring around her neck and recalled the blissful moment when Patsy had placed the band for the briefest of moments where it belonged on her finger. She'd worn it all of five minutes, from the time it took Patsy to slip it on to the time they were kissing frantically behind a locked door. This had to be one of the best Christmas presents ever, Delia mulled as she traced Patsy's exposed neck with her fingers.
The redhead stirred slightly at the icy touch, grunting her complaints before trying to snuggle deeper back into Delia's embrace.
"Wake up Pats." Delia whispered gently.
Patsy was adorable when she was asleep and as much as Delia liked to watch the cute mumbles and grumbles of morning Patsy, they really needed to separate before the day began otherwise, she thought to herself, they'd never leave this bed.
"Your hands are cold." Patsy's breath fogged the air in front of her face.
"Merry Christmas to you too!" Delia laughed.
Patsy pouted and finally opened her eyes, squinting in the daylight.
"Who's the visitor?" she asked groggily turning towards the window.
The robin stared back, its head cocking slightly to one side.
"He's the same colour as your hair Pats." Delia pointed out playfully.
Patsy rolled back over to take in the much more pleasing view in front of her.
"And the same colour as your cheeks. You really are freezing, we should get you some milky tea before you seize up."
"I'm all thawed out after last night." Delia muttered.
Patsy's mouth opened in sarcastic horror. "Delia! Not around the nuns!" she indicated to the door.
Delia shot back her best cheeky dimples before braving the cold and flinging off the duvet. A collective gasp came from both women as the cold flooded in over their (barely dressed) bodies.
"Oh gosh Busby I think you're right. Last night was considerably warmer." Patsy admitted.
Nonnatus house, like every slightly dysfunctional family, celebrated Christmas in their rather own unique way. Because there always had to be someone with one ear cocked to the telephone in case of imminent baby arrival on the day babies were rather famous for arriving imminently, traditions were changed and moulded to fit the day as it unfolded. Some things remained constant however. Namely, the lavish Christmas dinner (around 2:30pm pending labouring mothers), the Queen's speech followed by mince pies and charades in front of a roaring log fire. Mince pies were often optional as they had a funny habit of disappearing before they could be consumed.
Breakfast consisted of a hot morning brew before most of the house gathered in the chapel and headed to the local church for the Christmas service. This year Trixie took the Christmas day shift as Patsy and Delia had taken one for the team last year during the trip to South Africa. It was nice to get a break Delia thought, idly stirring another spoonful of sugar into her pale tea.
The familiar nudge of Patsy's foot filled her with as much warmth as the hot drink as she sipped at the mug feeling, in that moment, as if she was the happiest Welshwoman in London.
"Well it's off to the telephone for me sweeties, let me know all about the service and don't tell me what happens, I don't want spoilers!" Trixie tapped her nose and grabbed a bible from the breakfast table before skipping off.
Thankfully Patsy and Delia appeared to be the only ones who heard the remark as the sisters were deep in conversation speculating who would be taking the service that morning.
"Will you be joining us?" asked Sister Julienne politely.
"I shan't imbide I'm afraid." proclaimed Phyllis. "I am after-all Nurse Franklin's back up and there are still two babies due in the very near future and I wouldn't want to leave her in the lurch."
"Of course."
Delia realised attention was now on her and Patsy. Before she knew it she was speaking hurriedly.
"Oh, Patsy and I were going to attend the evening service actually, we said we'd keep Trixie, sorry, Nurse Franklin company. Besides, I have some chores I need to.. do..." she stuttered out the rest of the sentence while Patsy looked over her mug in surprise.
Sister Julienne simply smiled and praised the splendid idea before excusing herself and her sisters as they made their way from the dining room.
Now alone the two women moved their chairs slightly closer together.
"Delia..." Patsy shot the small woman a questioning look.
"I panicked." Delia admitted bashfully. "I know you don't particularly like church services and well, I thought we could spend the morning together, just the two of us?"
Patsy broke into a wide grin. "And what about tonight?"
Delia winced. What had she gotten them into. "Don't suppose you fancy a Welsh carol service?"
The redhead looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, I think that would be quite fun."
Delia gaped.
"As long as you're there to translate, I don't fancy going on my own. You know what they say about the Welsh."
Blue eyes narrowed over the steaming cup of milky tea as Delia Busby shot her best death stare towards the well mannered nurse.
By half past four, most of the habitants of Nonnatus house (and Fred, who'd popped round for "just one mince pie" and had ended up with a large serving of turkey and all the trimmings) were sat around the fire, supporting their very own babies of food. Sister Monica Joan was knitting fervently as if to give her fingers something to do other than grapple for the last mince pie that lay tantalisingly on the glass-toped coffee table.
There was an agreeable silence around the room. Patsy and Delia sat on the sofa, closer than they would usually dare as Sister Winifred was squeezed on the end, seating space being at a premium with all present. Phyllis had caved in and joined the party for the time being and was eyeing the room, subtly trying to avoid staring in the direction of the three women on the sofa.
"Charades!" she proclaimed rather violently, causing Sister Monica Joan to drop several stitches.
A collective sigh fell across the room.
"Very well, I'll take the first bullet - that is if nobody objects?"
Nobody did. Phyllis positioned herself in front of the fire and began motioning with her hands.
"Song!" shouted everyone collectively.
"Two words!"
Phyllis nodded enthusiastically. And started wafting herself then pointing at the fire.
"Heat? Fire?"
She shook her head and wafted a bit more.
"Hot!"
More excited nodding. She held up two fingers then put three to her arm.
"Second word, three syllables."
She stooped down and straightened up, repeating the motion several times. Some people began to giggle, the effect made even more comical by Phyllis' rather ugly colourful sweater with two bells hanging off the chest area and ringing comically from side to side.
"Dig!" someone yelled finally, causing the bells to cease their swinging.
"Hot dig..."
"Hot Diggity!" Sister Winifred exclaimed loudly.
Everyone stopped and stared towards the nun.
"Why... yes it is!" exclaimed Phyllis, her face flushed. "I do believe that makes it your turn!"
The sister rose from the sofa, but Patsy and Delia remained close, not wanting to part for appearances anymore. Besides, Delia thought smiling to herself as she watched a nun in a habit try and mime out the song "Never Do A Tango With An Eskimo", the sofa had seen much, much worse.
Stomachs too full for anything more than a couple of mince pies, that evening most retired to bed early, some choosing to stay by the fire to soak up as much heat as was possible before returning to the cold bedrooms. The nuns took to compline, Trixie came off telephone duty and finally received her portion of roast dinner (kept warm in the low heat of the oven).
Delia motioned to Patsy and the pair made themselves scarce from the rest of the house.
"Still up for a bit of singing Patsy?"
The redhead paled. "You didn't say anything about joining in!"
Delia threw her head back in laughter. "You don't have to actually sing, but at least mime and pretend you're enjoying yourself."
That earned her a playful slap on the arm.
"Where exactly is the nearest Welsh Carol Service?" Patsy questioned.
"I'm not entirely sure actually." Delia admitted.
"You mean your grand plan Busby is to walk around London listening into random churches until you hear something that resembles Welsh?"
"Well, the busses aren't running so we'll have to walk!"
Patsy gave her girlfriend a disparaging look. "Remind me never to let you plan anything with less than one week's notice." she sighed.
"We could still go to St. Johns down the street." Delia piped up. "It's not Welsh but I'm pretty sure they have the same tunes."
St. Johns was a medium sized church, small enough to be cozy but large enough for the two women to slip into the back of congregation unnoticed. They'd missed the first sermon it appeared. As neither of them were too bothered by this it didn't really make much difference. A short elderly woman was passing down the nave, handing out hymn books. Patsy took a couple from the woman's frail, shaking hands and thanked her before handing the nicer one to Delia, keeping the more tatty one for herself. Delia smiled at the small gesture and flicked through the thin pages until she reached the first number shown.
The organist played the opening chord and the crowd collectively stood with a rustle of paper and pews scraping.
"Ar Hyd Y Nos." breathed Delia, her mouth parting.
Patsy shot the small woman a glance. Tears were beginning to well in her beautiful blues and sparkled in the candle light.
"Patsy." she choked, turning to face the taller woman with emotion bursting from her expression.
Patsy didn't think twice, she reached for the small hand and grasped it tightly as the congregation began to sing in unison.
Sleep my child and peace attend thee,
All through the night
Guardian angels God will send thee,
All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,
I my loving vigil keeping
All through the night.
Delia sniffed, trying to gather her emotions. The song of her country had brought back so many memories of a Christmas now passed, a Christmas of uncertainty about her future in London, about her future with Patsy.
While the moon her watch is keeping
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping
All through the night
O'er they spirit gently stealing
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling
All through the night.
Still Patsy's hand never left hers. Is this a dream? A small voice inside Delia's head whispered. Because nothing this perfect could be this real, could feel this complete. She wanted to cry out to the heavens, to lift her voice in song-
Patsy jumped slightly as a small but clear voice filtered through.
O mor siriol, gwena seren
Ar hyd y nos
It was Patsy's time to feel a lump harden in her throat. Perhaps this is what angels sounded like, she thought. The pureness of her lovers voice was like a calming salve to the soul. She felt fragments of herself heal together as the notes reverberated off her eardrums, an almost electric feeling pass through their connected hands. She squeezed. Delia squeezed back, her voice becoming stronger.
I oleuo'i chwaer ddaearen
Ar hyd y nos.
Nos yw henaint pan ddaw cystudd
Ond i harddu dyn a'i hwyrddydd
Rhown ein golau gwan i'n gilydd
Ar hyd y nos.
The song finished but the magic was not broken. As the two took their seat Patsy snaked an arm around Delia's waist, holding her close. With their large coats and hats their gender could easily be disguised to the offhand glance.
"Deels?" Patsy ventured.
"I can't believe they played it." Delia's voice finally broke.
She looked up into the older woman's searching eyes.
"It's the first song I heard that reminded me of home after the accident. Mam asked the choir in Tenby to sing it specially that Christmas. That's when I remembered you. Remembered us." she wiped her nose with her sleeve cuff. "I'm so glad I didn't go to the Welsh Carol service that day."
"Oh Delia." Tears were making fast tracks down Patsy's face too. "From now on, we'll spend every Christmas together. I promise. And I'll never forget tonight."
Delia smiled through her tears, reached over her scarf and pulled out the ring, slipping it off the chain and placing it in Patsy's hand. Patsy cottoned on and glanced round quickly to check nobody was looking. The crowd was already beginning to stand for the next hymn and so the two women rose to their feet also.
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin, mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Neither of them sang, they simply stared into each other's eyes.
"Through sickness and in health." Patsy whispered.
"For richer for poorer." Delia replied.
"Until death do us part?" Patsy breathed.
"I do." They replied in unison.
Patsy slipped the ring onto Delia's finger.
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
The duo exited the church arm in arm only to be greeted by a flurry of snow. There was something rather magical about the silent flakes falling from the ink black sky, visible only from their reflections cast by the surrounding lampposts. Patsy hated rain. Rain was loud. Rain reminded her of humid nights in the camp. But snow was cooling. A silent and gentle lullaby as it floated lazily to earth. It was calming to watch, she thought as she slipped an arm through Delia's, pulling the smaller woman in close.
Nothing could wipe the stupid grin from her face. A distant muffled sound of parishioners voices filtered through the air, lending a beautiful soundtrack to the picture perfect scene. Suddenly, feeling a rare sense of daring, Patsy stopped in her tracks and faced the smaller woman.
"Let's not go back."
Delia looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Two elegant hands reached the small face and sparkling cerulean stared into the deepest stormy cyan.
"I want it to be just us tonight Delia." She said, huskily. Desire so apparent in her voice that a smile tugged at the corner of the Welshwoman's mouth. Mischief personified.
"You mean..." Her voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper. "...like a wedding night?" Cheeks flushing instantly.
Patsy held the gaze unwavering and nodded. Her heart hammering, hot blood rushing in her ears.
"And where do you propose we go?" Delia challenged, indicating around the vacant street.
"We'll rent a hotel room. Just for the night." she was being bold. Very unlike her. But at that moment she wanted peace. Peace from everything and everyone else. She wanted to shut out the world. Other than the beautiful woman who stood in front of her of course.
"What will we tell the others?" Delia was taking the unusual stance of caution.
"That it got too late and the weather was so bad we had to rent a room?" Patsy murmured.
Delia's eyes were already darkening behind her long lashes.
"Anyone would think you've thought this through Pats."
"I haven't. I suppose this is me being more... spontaneous."
"Mhmm." Delia sighed in approval, her gaze shifting to Patsy's lips. "I like spontaneous Patsy."
She began to remove the ring from her third finger before Patsy leant out and stopped her.
"Keep it on. Even if it's just for tonight. Keep it where it belongs."
Patsy reached for Delia's hand and began walking again, this time toward the main road. It was time to hail a taxi.
The Kingston Hotel was rather a nice establishment, not too luxurious, but it held its own against the other competitors on the same street. The black London taxi pulled up outside, depositing two women at the front door. A smartly dressed, shivering bell-hop, slightly put off by the lack of luggage, ushered them both inside and out of the cold.
Patsy strode up elegantly to the front reception desk. She knew exactly how to play this role. Delia tottered behind, her gaze taking in the marble floors and ornate chandeliers that graced the foyer. The entire place was deathly quiet save for a few late night stragglers at the hotel restaurant.
"Just the one room my good fellow, and I require the use of the telephone please." Patsy's clipped accent echoed off the polished floors.
The balding man behind the counter drew himself up to all five foot six of his height and nodded importantly. "Of course ma'am."
Patsy made a great show of telling the imaginary person the other end of the telephone that she and her sister were "well and truly stuck" in the middle of London and would have to stay in a hotel for the night until the weather cleared on boxing day.
Delia watched the charade unfold in front of her with some amusement and a sliver of pride. Especially when the redhead caught her eye and winked. It was only as she watched the tall woman produce her chequebook that Delia began to wonder if this really was entirely spontaneous.
Within ten minutes of entering the hotel, they were opening the door to their en-suite bedroom, having been assured by the man at the front desk they were the only guests on the entire floor. Eventually the luxury door swung closed behind them and the lock clicked. Wordlessly dumping their belongings on a priceless eighteenth century armchair, the two women finally faced each other.
A clock on the mantelpiece struck ten. Patsy swallowed. The full gravity of the advantageous situation they were in suddenly hit hard.
A scenario she'd never even dared think possible - a wedding night with the woman of her dreams. Not that it would be their first time by any means; this was a far reach from the dark fumbling of their nursing home days. But it was the first time they would be able to take their time, without fear of being discovered. The prospect was making her shake. From emotion maybe? No, this was excitement. Apprehension. She had always held back, always on edge, anxious. Not tonight though, she promised herself. Tonight would be different.
Small hands stroked gently through her copper locks, lifted her face and broke her from the reverie.
"Cariad?"
Patsy could feel her eyes beginning to water, her walls beginning to crack. She launched herself at the smaller woman, drawing her in for a fierce hug.
"I love you." she choked into Delia's neck.
They stood for a moment, wrapped in the tight embrace, revelling in the feeling of closeness and proximity that had been so lacking that past year.
"I want us to take our time Pats." Delia whispered. Her breath feathering round Patsy's ear, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention.
Patsy nodded in agreement. She had no intention of rushing. Even as Delia moved towards the kingsized bed she smiled to herself. If anything she thought, this was likely to be one of the most memorable forty eight hours of her life.
Patsy walked over to where Delia was sat on the kingsized bed; the soft, white linen swallowed her as she sank into the mattress. Delia moved to lay beside the taller woman.
"Shoes off Patience." she tutted. "That's what mam always told me before sleeping in a hotel bed."
Patsy sighed and kicked off her heels. Her feet ached dully form their unplanned walk earlier and she wished she'd been prepared enough to have worn flats. Clearly this was another (not quite as fun) result of spontaneous Patsy.
She grumbled and tried to surreptitiously ease the throbbing by rubbing the offending appendages against her calves.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Fibber."
Delia was not so easily fooled. She pulled herself up, adjusting the pillows against the headboard of the bed and patted her lap.
Patsy raised an eyebrow in question but lay back, extended her long legs and planted her aching feet onto Delia's lap. As the petite Welshwoman began working her tense foot muscles with strong fingers, Patsy couldn't help but sigh in relief. The blood flow returned to her toes and to her cheeks as she gazed up at Delia's expression of concentration.
"Has anyone told you that you're amazing at that?"
Delia smiled. "I don't do this to just anyone Pats."
Patsy returned the smile and met the brunette's eyes briefly. They were a deep, dark blue. Darker than she'd ever seen before. It made her next breath catch in her throat.
"Don't you?"
"No."
Delia had now moved to massaging Patsy's calf muscles.
"I don't do this either." she murmured before planting a kiss on Patsy's nylon stockings.
Patsy all but melted into a puddle. This always seemed to happen. Delia knew exactly how to push her buttons and was always one step ahead when it came to seduction and flirting. Patsy, for her part was, rather useless, at least she thought so. Where in other walks of life she never lacked confidence, in the bedroom it was quite a different story. Delia had never brought it up, it was just the way things were. The smaller woman normally initiated everything and Patsy, well Patsy held on for dear life and went along for the ride. Tonight though, for some reason, a confidence was filling the older woman. An assertiveness she'd never felt before.
She retracted her legs from Delia's warm lap and stood, her bare feet sinking into the sheepskin rug next to the bed. Still propped against the pillows, the Welshwoman watched, intrigued, as Patsy dimmed the lights and beckoned to her. Delia obeyed the silent command and arose from the bed to join her.
There they stood, mere inches from touching, breathing in each other's scent. Patsy's cheeks burned as she worked her fingers through Delia's bun, carefully pulling out the pins one by one and discarding them on the dresser. Finally free of constraints, Delia shook her head, allowing the chestnut mane to flow down her back. Using just her fingertips, Patsy brushed gently, untangling the last of the knots and marvelling at just how soft the younger woman's hair was.
Delia closed her eyes, revelling in the touch, a contented sigh passing her lips. Placing a chaste kiss to the brunette's forehead, Patsy rested her chin on top of Delia's head. Her arms snaked around Delia's small frame, gradually removing her coat and discarding it on the floor before moving to her dress. Delia's hands mirrored the redhead's, and were soon unbuttoning the grey plaid shirt Patsy had chosen to wear that evening. Their movements were slow and meaningful, creating an exhilarating atmosphere in the room.
Slowly, Patsy leaned in and captured Delia's lips with her own. Gently and sensually she kissed her. If she were ever to be asked, Patsy would never be able to describe exactly what kissing Delia felt like. Something akin to fireworks, an exquisite agony almost that accumulated into a keen longing. Problems and worries ceased to exist, hurt and pain just melted away. Her lips were a tonic for the soul. There was nothing on earth that could compare to kissing Delia Busby.
Feeling a tight clenching of emotion in her stomach, Patsy couldn't help herself. She nibbled lightly on Delia's lower lip, encouraging the smaller woman to open her mouth and allow her tongue access. Delia needed no persuading. Their tongues probed and explored, creating a delirious sensation as they circled one and other. Before long the slow, swirling motions began to increase in pace and intensity. They were dancing now, a delightful tango, pausing briefly for breath before engaging in more searching sweeps. A flame had ignited inside Patsy and this time she did not want it to burn out.
She parted eventually but Delia followed her instinctively, her nose nuzzling Patsy's retreating cheek. Gently, Patsy silently directed her towards the bed. Delia met her gaze questioningly but didn't speak. The younger woman was always the one to make the first move but tonight Patsy wanted to be bold. She wanted to show Delia how much she loved her, without holding back. Her cheeks flushed with desire as she tried to rein in some of the nerves.
Delia was staring at her intently. Her eyes impossibly dark.
"What do you want, Pats? she whispered gently.
Patsy's heart raced. There were so many things she wanted to say. I want to memorise every inch of you. I want to show you how much you mean to me. You know I've never been good at words, so please let me show you through actions. All seemed to be perfectly reasonable responses. But instead she opted for the one reply that completely embodied everything she was feeling in that moment.
"I want to make love to you."
Delia held her gaze, eyes wide, and nodded.
Amazingly her hands were not shaking as she unzipped Delia's sunflower dress and let it pool onto the floor. Eyes roamed over the newly exposed creamy skin, glowing in the low light of the hotel room. She bent down and kissed a freckle on a pale collarbone. Delia hissed as Patsy's warm lips made brief contact with her soft flesh. This was quite possibly the most sensual experience they had ever shared. It wasn't a hurried kiss behind a locked door or a discreet, rushed encounter late at night. For once in their lives they were free to explore each other, to take their time, safe in the knowledge they would not be discovered.
This very thought passed unsaid between both women. It charged the room with an invisible energy. Patsy's fingers began to skilfully undo Delia's brassiere, slipping it off her shoulders and exposing her perfect breasts. She took a moment to stare, unabashed, at the sight in front of her. Drinking in the soft, curving flesh with a smouldering gaze. Gently, she lowered the smaller woman onto the bed before leaning in to kiss her again, this time trailing kisses down her jawline and down, lower and lower. Finally finding a soft, pink peak with her lips, teasing it until it became hard and swollen. Delia let out a tiny moan. The little noise spurred Patsy on as she sucked gently on the sensitive nipple, rolling it around her tongue and releasing with a small pop. Delia blindly reached for Patsy's hand, bringing it up to attend to the other unattended breast.
Reverently, Patsy began massaging the sensitive flesh, feeling Delia's skin become taut with desire under her ministrations. Never before had she been able to explore every inch of her lover's body with such detail and tenderness. Mapping each freckle, every stretch mark and tiny imperfection. Every unique detail that made Delia, Delia. It was intoxicating, breathing in her scent, drinking in the vision of the brunette's hooded eyes, swollen lips and husky breathing. She stroked up along her arms; Taking in every dip and curve of her muscles, strong and defined from countless hours on ward rounds, changing linen and aiding patients. And yet, despite being toned, her skin was so silky soft. Patsy marvelled at the contrast between the texture of Delia's body and her own rough hands - calloused from the over-regular encounters with bleach and antiseptic.
She massaged brunette's shoulders before running her hands past her breasts and down to her ribcage. Delia's breath hitched. She was rather sensitive at the spot where her hips met her waist, a fact that Patsy was more than aware, and was determined to exploit. As the redhead stroked carefully from her stomach and round her back, Delia's hips rose off the bed, granting Patsy access to her rear. Delia wrapped her legs around the taller woman in an attempt to gain more contact.
"Patience, I do believe you're overdressed for the occasion." she whispered huskily.
Patsy's fishhook smile followed.
Drawing back from the vision in front of her she made short work of her own clothes, providing Delia with a wonderful show of de-robing. The younger woman simply sat back on her elbows and licked her lips as she watched as Patsy strip down.
"Better?" she queried.
Delia nodded in approval. "Much."
Patsy pressed their bodies together, enjoying another long, languid kiss. The feeling of Delia's breasts pressed against her own was something of a wonder to behold. A luxury too, as they rarely risked being this naked together. Delia ground upwards, her hands finding Patsy's back and lightly tracing her scars. They were breathing hard, their passionate sounds echoing through the empty room.
Patsy drew back and hooked her fingers around Delia's knickers, now the only barrier left. She drew them down impossibly slowly before discarding them onto the floor with their other items of clothing. Kissing her way up Delia's legs, she heard the smaller woman utter little sighs under her touch. Goosebumps were erupting all over Delia's body. She was shaking from exhilaration and anticipation of what was to come. Patsy was enthralled to see her lover so receptive to just the slightest touch and she just couldn't get enough of her. In fact it seemed her boldness knew no bounds tonight.
She slid her body down the bed again, kissing down Delia's stomach as her hands ran over her hip bones. Steeling herself she then nuzzled the patch of dark curls at the apex of Delia's legs.
"Pats?" Delia questioned softly, her eyes searching. "Are you sure?"
Patsy nodded.
She had never done this before. Why, she didn't really know. Maybe it was the fear of being discovered in this particular position. Others might have been easier to explain away but not this. Delia had never complained but Patsy could tell she longed for it. Now just felt like the right time.
Delia sensed the hesitation. She reached out a hand and stroked Patsy's hair gently.
"You don't have to." she offered kindly.
Patsy shook her head. "I want to... I really want to." her voice betrayed her worry.
"I trust you Cariad." Delia's eyes shone with nothing but love and adoration.
Patsy took a deep breath and kissed the crop of curls. Delia let out another small moan at the sensation. This spurred the taller woman on and she kissed again. Patsy had encountered her fair amount of female nether regions in her career but this was Delia. She couldn't remember how long she'd dreamed of doing this to her lover. When Delia had first done it to her she had experienced powerful sensations she never thought possible for any human to have. She now longed to give her love similar sensations. Feeling her confidence grow, Patsy kissed as if she were kissing Delia's mouth. Her tongue swiped only to be met with a considerable amount of warm wetness. It was slightly salty but not unpleasant. As Patsy repeated the motion, the small woman's hips uncontrollably bucked, a soft mewling sound escaping her lips.
"Keep going, Caraid, that feels amazing." she whispered.
Patsy obeyed. She tried her best to recall what Delia had done to her and repeat the motions. She felt small hands on her head, stroking her hair and directing her motions. They were pulling her up slightly so she paused her movements and tried to reposition herself in order to gain a better angle. As she did so, Delia wrapped one of her legs up and around to embrace her back. Heart thudding fast, Patsy used her long fingers to delicately part Delia's swollen lips in order to locate the organ so desperately in need of her attention.
Brushing her lips against the bundle of nerves she sucked lightly.
"Oh!" Delia exclaimed loudly from above her, head snapping back.
Patsy's brow furrowed in concentration as she repeated the motion but with more purpose this time. Again it elicited a similar response from the smaller woman. Curious, she pressed the tip of her tongue harder against the sensitive spot and began to circle.
"Ah... Cariad! Slow down!" Delia gasped.
"Sorry!" Patsy breathed.
"It's alright. You're doing really well." Delia encouraged, stroking the copper hair.
Patsy blushed, thankfully unseen by Delia. She felt like an awkward teenager again. But practise makes perfect and it was unrealistic to expect to be fantastic at this the first time around. Using longer and more gentle strokes she began to circle again, this time much more slowly, waiting for Delia to set the pace. This approach seemed to work a lot better and before long Delia's legs were squeezing against her tighter and tighter as she began to build.
The moans and sighs coming from the Welshwoman were doing amazing things to Patsy's insides. She was beginning to feel her own desire burning strong, an aching, dull throbbing between her legs trying to distract her from her current task. Another swipe and Delia groaned loudly. They were never this loud. They couldn't be. But hearing Delia come undone was the most erotic sound she'd ever heard. It was utterly exhilarating. And to know she was the cause of this pleasure? Wanting to give her more, Patsy pulled one hand upward and, still keeping contact with her mouth, slid two fingers into Delia's waiting warmth.
"Duw Pats!" she cried.
Patsy paused her movements and looked up. Was it too much too soon?
"Are you okay?"
Delia however, bit her bottom lip and nodded furiously. "Just... keep going, don't stop... Peidiwch â stopio "
Patsy obliged, easing her long fingers in and out, gaining a steady rhythm. Delia was so slick from desire there was barely any friction. As Patsy curled her fingertips to rub the small patch of rough skin of Delia's inner walls the brunette let out a gasp, hips involuntarily bumping harder against the redhead's hand.
" Mwy! Oh Pats... Rwyf mor agos!" came gasping breaths.
Oblivious to the meaning, but assuming it was positive, Patsy continued. Delia's hips rocked, riding with the thrusts of the redhead's hand as the strokes increased in pace. Patsy delved deeper with every push, tempo quickening, hand blurring, tongue dancing. Delia's breath was catching as she pulled in the occasional lungful of air, expelling it again with a moan. With one more burst of speed Patsy ground into her as fast and as hard as she could. Delia took one more gasping breath, her hands buried in the redhead's tresses before crying out loudly as her climax hit. Her back arched and her muscles spasmed in an explosion of ecstasy.
Patsy scooted upwards, her hand still buried, to kiss the beautiful mouth which was still uttering sighs, pants and incoherent Welsh as the aftershocks rolled over her.
"You're beautiful." she murmured, kissing Delia gently, allowing the smaller woman to taste herself on Patsy's tongue.
Delia's body settled as she began to catch her breath and regain sensation in her limbs. She gazed into Patsy's deep blue eyes, her own filled with tears.
" Oh fy duw… That was... you were…" she exhaled. "Thank you."
Patsy eased her hand away from its now tight confines. Delia grunted as Patsy's digits left her and wrapped the taller woman in her arms, kissing her gently as she floated back down to earth.
"Rydych chi'n anhygoel." came a sleepy Welsh mumble. "Dy garu di."
They lay, naked as the day they were born, embraced in each other's arms, enjoying the brief post-coiltal glow that had settled on the room. Patsy smiled as Delia's hands began to regain feeling and started to journey across her own chest. This was going to be a long, but very much enjoyable, night.