Chapter 12

There was a surprising possessiveness that flowed through Rhoda now that Mary was back in her rightful place. In her apartment, laying amongst floral sheets, in that darling nightgown Rhoda had bought her once for her last hospital stay. Well, Rhoda had asked for her to wear it because the hospital had been a much better place the first time around. And now that Mary was out of the woods, the baby still safe inside her womb, Rhoda wanted her to wear that nightgown and Mary had, as if sensing that Rhoda needed to know she was okay.

Rhoda propped herself up in the bed, her eyes resting on Mary's mid-section, contemplating the child that was growing within. "I can't believe there's a real person in there. A little human with arms and legs and eyes and teeth and hair." Rhoda reached out, trailing her fingers over the orange and pink floral print. She could feel Mary's skin twitch beneath her fingers. She thought that perhaps she shouldn't have reached out but Mary reached down and held Rhoda's hand against her stomach.

"I'm not sure it has all of those yet but it certainly will."

"Hey, what do you want it to be, Mare? A boy or a girl?" Rhoda asked brightly, fighting back the fluttering that had come to rest in her chest, the pleasant sensation between her legs. She rubbed her thighs together as Mary trailed her fingers over her arm absently.

"Oh, I hadn't...I suppose either would do. A boy might be practical but we could certainly dress up a girl. Just think of the outfits!" Mary gushed.

But Rhoda couldn't think just then of the Hempel's baby section she'd perused on her break the other day and how adorable all of the little onesies had been, the tiny dresses and suits she'd come across. No, her mind was gone, lost to Mary Richards laying there before her, touching her arm, talking about the beautiful baby she would have. "What do you think?" Mary was asking.

"Uh, oh kid. I don't care as long as it's healthy. Besides the boys have just as cute of outfits as the girls." Rhoda moved ever so much closer to Mary's stomach. "You hear that, kid? You better stay healthy. No more scares. You'll send your Aunt Rhoda to an early grave."

Mary laughed, her fingers gliding into Rhoda's hair. Rhoda's breath hitched in her throat. She was so close to Mary, so close. And they had not yet...but neither had ever, had they? Rhoda certainly had never entertained the idea of sharing a bed with a woman before Mary Richards. How would they touch? Her eyes trailed downwards to the hem of the nightgown, just right below which was Mary's pristine white little panties which she'd caught glimpses of beneath the nightie. Rhoda gulped, Mary's fingers delighting against her scalp.

Her lips moved, pressed against Mary's floral printed stomach, for she didn't dare press her lips to where she had just been thinking.

Mary shifted, the sigh that fell from her lips like the ones that she made when they were wrapped up in one another in the night. Jesus, Rhoda had barely touched her and she had just sighed like that?

"It's - it's okay, Rhoda." Mary whispered.

Rhoda felt her heart hammering in her chest. She was being given permission to do something that felt sacred, and it scared her.

"Are you -" she swallowed, her mouth dry. She looked up into Mary's dark eyes - when had her eyes grown so large, so hungry? - watched as she nodded in affirmation that they were on the same page, that she needed this just as much as Rhoda wanted to give it. Rhoda looked back down to Mary's stomach, to where their hands rested together. "I've never...uh..."

"It's fine, you'll be fine, please..." Mary's breathing was going shallow with each passing second. Rhoda could feel Mary's heart pounding as quickly as her own.

"Mare, I...I'm going to mess it up, I just..." Rhoda spoke hesitantly as her fingers dared to trail down to the hem of the short nightie. She pulled it upward, eyes unable to move from the white fabric that barely covered Mary's most intimate area. Then there was the taut skin of her slowly rounding stomach. When had it grown? Rhoda pressed her lips to the skin there, right beneath Mary's belly-button. Rhoda was on her knees then, more daring in her motions, arms resting on either side of Mary.

Mary didn't respond, her breathing audible now as Rhoda lifted the impossibly flimsy material - had this been what she'd had in mind when she'd bought the nightgown for her? - lifted it up to reveal Mary's bare breasts. Rhoda's hands paused, as if afraid to cup, to cover them. They sunk and rose with Mary's breath, rounder than they'd appeared beneath Mary's clothes, pink nipples pert, rousingly awake. "Rhoda," Mary hummed, impatient.

Rhoda kissed above Mary's naval, watching as her hands made contact with Mary's breasts, thumbs playing over the tight pink peaks. Mary arched her back, sighing, a sigh Rhoda had not heard before. Had Bill or Peter elicited this sigh from Mary? Rhoda certainly hoped not.

Rhoda grew emboldened, kissing her way up to Mary's nipple, wanting to feel the nub in her mouth. Mary's hands tangled into her hair again, pulling her tighter, closer. She came undone before Rhoda, fell reverently open with every kiss, tug, lick. Her body laid bare for Rhoda and Rhoda wanted to explore every inch of Mary Richards that she had never before seen. Certainly her shorty nightgown left little to the imagination and there had been the help in and out of dresses which exposed the tender flesh of her back, but Mary's breasts...what rested between her thighs. All of this was new and all of it was available to Rhoda, for Rhoda to do with as she pleased, as she needed. Because she needed Mary badly.

Mary arched into her touch, her pelvis rising, seeking contact. Rhoda's moan came out strangled against Mary's chest.

"Please, Rhoda." Mary's fingers dug into Rhoda, delightfully grasping at her. Wanting.

The scent of arousal filled the room, Rhoda could taste it in her mouth and she was nowhere near Mary's center. Rhoda thought of what it must feel like to kiss there, between parted lips, to taste Mary. The thought rolled about in her brain, building the mounting tension between her own legs. Forgive me for what I'm about to do to your mother, Rhoda thought as she kissed at Mary's stomach.

"Rho-oh," Mary gasped, fingers clutching at the bedsheet as Rhoda slithered out of her reach.

Rhoda's fire engine red fingernails slid gently into the band of Mary's underwear, eyes intent, focused, wanting to see more of Mary, wanting to know. And Mary lifted her hips, aiding Rhoda in the removal of her intimates. Rhoda pulled at them as if unwrapping a Christmas present. They were discarded to the side of the bed before Rhoda returned to her place between Mary's legs to see her fully exposed. Mary laying before her, panting, eyes ablaze, legs parted, open, willing.

Rhoda had never seen her like this before, had never imagined Mary could be so heady with lust and want. "God, kid. What are you doing to me?" Rhoda felt as if she might jump out of her own skin, her own nipples tight, her own panties thoroughly soaked with want. She was tender, she could tell. And as her eyes traveled downwards to the place between Mary's thighs she sighed. The mound glistened in the overhead light. She wanted to touch, to feel it. "You're so beautiful, Mare." Rhoda couldn't help the words that kept flowing out of her mouth as she moved forward, her hands coming to rest on Mary's thighs. Such simple words could barely express what Mary was, how she felt about her. Mary was a goddess, a queen, an amazon princess warrior. Rhoda wanted to please her, to worship her.

Rhoda, as if a curious child, placed a finger towards Mary's moist center, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the woman above her. Feeling as if this was right, she pressed on until she felt wet velvet, dragging her finger upwards where she knew that she herself liked to be touched. Mary ground against her hand, wanting more. "You feel so amazing." Rhoda whispered, pressing her lips to Mary's inner thigh, smelling her desire there, her lips salty.

"Please, Rhoda." Mary whimpered, her whole body taut.

Rhoda repeated her motions, this time allowing a finger to slide a little deeper before moving up to rub against Mary's throbbing center. She parted it, the taste of Mary already on her lips, so she only leaned forward and slid her tongue right there, right where she knew to touch on herself. She was no saint, she'd spent enough nights alone to have been driven to touching herself. For this she was proud of her knowledge, so that when her tongue slid over Mary again and she felt Mary press into her, she knew that what she was doing was right.

Her finger moved back, burying into the depths of Mary, delighting in the way Mary slid her body back and forth, arched her back as Rhoda licked and sucked lightly against her pleasure point.

The moans that Mary made drove Rhoda insane, wild with want. She moved with more accuracy and speed, the excitement building between them, Mary moving as if in a fevered dream. And then she was clutching at Rhoda's hair, clutching anywhere, her moans caught in her throat and then she was arched high and Rhoda felt her center pulsing, tightening, closing about her fingers.

"Oh God. Oh my God." Mary fell back against the bed, Rhoda removing her lips, to kiss at Mary's inner thigh, running her fingers over Mary as she knew she liked to do once she was over her own edge.

Rhoda glanced up, eyes heavy as she stared at Mary, Mary who looked so serene, so content with her eyes closed. She was practically humming, shifting her legs a little, hand rubbing over her own breast.

She watched as Mary's eyes came open, as if she were born anew, fresh and renewed, angelic. Their eyes met and Mary smiled lazily. "Oh, I love you."

Rhoda grinned and rested her head against Mary's thigh for a moment. "I love you, too, Mare. God, I love you." Rhoda let her finger trail away from Mary's center, making lazy patterns over her leg.

"Take off your nightgown." Mary spoke softly, coming up on her arms, breaking Rhoda from her contented daze. "I-I want to see you."

"Oh," Rhoda felt her cheeks color, for she knew she was not anything near the perfection that was Mary. No, Rhoda had flab and fat in all the wrong places and Mary wouldn't want to see that.

"Rhoda, please." Mary seemed to sense her hesitation. She sat up, pulling herself close to Rhoda, pulling their lips together in a reassuring kiss. "You're so beautiful, Rhoda. You don't even know it but you are." Mary kissed at her neck, whispered in her ear. "Remember," her fingers went to the hem of Rhoda's nightgown. "Remember when you won the Hempel's beauty pageant? You looked so beautiful." Mary pulled at the nightgown and Rhoda sat there, calmly, stilled by Mary's gentle ministrations.

"No, kid. Nah. You're the beautiful one and I'm just the funny sidekick." Rhoda shrugged as Mary pulled away to lift the nightgown over Rhoda's head.

Rhoda's arms went about her mid-section - she could scarcely hide her thighs so there was no use in even trying.

Mary shook her head, "you don't need to hide from me."

"I'm not hiding, I'm just..."

"Hiding." Mary shook her head and pressed her lips to Rhoda's neck. "I want to see every inch of you." Mary whispered against Rhoda's ear, shifting them so that Rhoda was beneath her, arms still folded across her chest, legs crossed. Mary laughed as she settled atop Rhoda, forcing her to uncross her legs so that she could settle atop her. "God you're gorgeous, Rho."

Rhoda kept her arms firmly clasped about her, but tilted her pelvis forward, delighting in the way that Mary was now straddling her, fully naked. She was still slick, Rhoda could feel it.

"Really, you're being ridiculous." Mary clasped her arms and tugged at them until Rhoda finally gave in and let Mary maneuver them to her side. She had to look away. She couldn't watch Mary looking at her, really seeing her.

Mary's hands were on her, tender, soft, trailing over her skin. Touching her carefully, thoughtfully. No man had ever regarded Rhoda in such a way. Most men would flirt and kiss and then the lights would go out and Rhoda would hide under her sheets and the men wouldn't care, wouldn't beg to see her. Their hands wouldn't touch her like she was fragile, precious as Mary was lovingly doing now. Mary with her soft, nimble hands that she used to embroider beautiful flowers, fingers that flew over her typewriter with precision and ease. Mary's thumbs slid over Rhoda's tight, throbbing nipples, her lips pressing against Rhoda's cheek, jaw, neck, tongue sliding out to lick, to claim every inch of Rhoda. "So beautiful."

"Oh, Mare." Rhoda sighed in mock annoyance, but the arousal caught in her throat. "Hey, kid, you sure you should - ah - be doing this? You know, in your - oh - state?"

"I'm pregnant, Rhoda," Mary was at her right breast now, lips taunting, teasing over Rhoda's nipple. "Not dying."

"But you...you were...and I think..." Rhoda wanted Mary, God, did she want Mary but what if she sat back and really saw her and hated it and she hadn't exactly prepared for her and...

Mary sat up, looking directly down at Rhoda, her eyes ablaze with want, hair akimbo about her head. "You're absolutely perfect, Rhoda. Let me love you." Her hand moved then towards her own center, only her fingers slid over Rhoda's panties, her eyes shifting down to see what she had done.

Rhoda felt the air catch in her lungs, she could hardly breath, hardly move. Mary had touched her. Oh God, she needed her to touch her again.

"Get these off." Mary trailed her fingers over the undergarment, Rhoda twisting and assisting until she was as naked as her bedmate. They sat up together, both breathing heavily. "I want to touch you, I'm - oh I want you so, Rhoda." Mary pulled their lips together and they fell back on the bed, Rhoda wrapped about Mary, their thighs tangling, Rhoda enjoying the feel of Mary's thigh between her legs, touching her sticky wetness. She couldn't help rising to press against her.

Mary's hand moved downwards, this time unhindered by cloth. Rhoda gasped at first contact, arching into Mary, begging her to touch her harder, to go deeper. Mary's fingers slid inside of her, a thumb trailing over her throbbing center, and Mary's mouth on her mouth. Kissing her feverishly, as if they could never get enough of one another, as if they might meld together into one person.

"Oh God, Mare. I love you so much. I love you." Rhoda gasped between kisses, pulling her closer, tighter. "I never thought...but you...why have we never...oh fuck, Mare." Rhoda gasped into the night as Mary buried herself deeper, worked her fingers like they were enchanted, like they knew everything Rhoda liked. Rhoda couldn't help the sway of her hips, the way she felt so totally out of control, yet completely at peace with herself in Mary's arms.

And then she was still, very still because Mary had hit upon that magical spot, just the right one that always made her, "oh fuck, kid. Oh fuck." Rhoda gasped for air, falling back into the bed her body light, feeling as if she were floating.

Mary rolled away to rest on her side, her fingers incapable of detaching from Rhoda, trailing mindless patterns over Rhoda's stomach. Normally Rhoda would hate anyone touching her stomach but it felt comforting, nice as she lay there, blissed out of her mind.

She finally opened her eyes and looked to Mary finding that she had laughter in her eyes.

"What?!" She felt herself shriveling, as if perhaps Mary might be laughing at her body. She wanted to roll away but Mary held onto her.

"Nothing. Nothing. You just have quite a mouth on you when you're...when you're...you know."

Rhoda felt her cheeks grow red and then she was laughing with Mary, pulling her against her to kiss her perfect lips.

And then they jumped apart as they both heard the sound of a knock at Mary's door.