This is where it gets 'M' rated...

Connie felt the tug and move of something against her chest. For the briefest of moments she felt panic rise within her, she remembered the feeling of being held down...but then, as she awoke properly, she realised she was safe, and that it was merely Rita shifting against her that had caused her to stir.

The nurse was still asleep, though her body twitched with dreams. She struggled against a yawn, and the sudden rise of her chest meant Rita twisted against her, her elbow pushed into her stomach, and Connie could see her face quite clearly in the lamp light.

Her forehead was creased and her lips were partially open. She arched her back ever so slightly, and murmured something inaudible under her breath before collapsing back onto Connie, pushing the breath from other woman's lungs.

Connie wrapped her arms about her tighter and stroked her hair, she kissed the side of her head and whispered to her, drawing her slowly from her dream as gently as she could.

She murmured her name and held her close. Rita's eyes opened slowly with a half-blink, her heart ticked quickly and she struggled to calm her breath. She squinted up at Connie with vague dark eyes, taking a moment to realise where they were.

"What were you dreaming?"

Connie asked gently.

Rita frowned at her as though they hadn't been real words that she'd spoken. She had to pause whilst they filtered through the fog inside her head, before they made any sense at all.

"You were..."

She stopped abruptly and cleared her throat, her eyes widened as she realised what she had been dreaming about, and her face coloured, she knew Connie would assume it had been another one of her nightmares, when in fact it had been quite the opposite.

"I was...?"

Connie repeated, and she pushed the hair from Rita's face with one hand, smoothing it back behind her ears, adoring how flushed her face was, and how the indentations of the buttons of shirt were pressed into the side of her head.

Rita glanced away, avoiding eye contact. Instead she looked down to the crumpled white fabric of Connie's shirt. Between the buttons, just over the rise of her right breast, the cotton was damp and had turned see-through. She could see the faint pink of her skin. She looked back up to find Connie watching her.

"I dribbled on you!"

She exclaimed, looking again to the wet fabric. Connie pulled the shirt tight across her skin so that she could see where the freckles on her breast showed through the wet fabric.

"Don't worry."

She said gently, watching how mortified Rita was, and how she seemed to struggle to look away from where the freckles that showed through the cotton.

"I'm sure everybody dribbles in their sleep..."

"Even you?"

Rita cut in, recovering slowly from the embarrassment.

"Even me."

Connie confirmed, her eyes a dark bottle green in the light.

Rita bit her lip, she thought again of how Connie slept in such a surprisingly carefree manner, long, beautiful limbs spread wildly across the bed so that there was little room for anybody but her.

With a yawn she settled down again with her back pressed against Connie's chest, her head against her shoulder. This was happiness, she realised. Connie's skin was so warm against her own, and she noticed if she let her head fall to the right then her lips brushed against Connie's neck.

She could hear the other woman's heartbeat, and absently she reached for Connie's right hand. She stroked the thin skin of the back of it, tracing the tendons and smoothing the tiny blonde hairs that caught the light. Even her hands were freckled - the realisation made her smile - and she could feel her pulse begin to quicken as she realised this was Connie Beauchamp's hand, and that she was holding it!

She turned her hand over so that her palm faced upwards, her long fingers curled, her nails so neat and all exactly the same, painted with a thin layer of clear varnish that made them sparkle. How many lives had these hands saved, she wondered briefly, before tracing the curve of her life-line about the base of her thumb.

"You still haven't told me what your dream was about?"

Connie's voice bought her thoughts back into the room and she felt her body grow warm again at the thought of admitting what had played out in her mind whilst she had slept.

"Oh, no...nothing..."

She caught Connie's eye.

"I'm not embarrassing myself in front of you twice in one evening."

She added, casting her eye again to the wet patch on the other woman's top.

"Ah..."

Connie smiled, she knew very well what sort of dream she had been having, but it was endearing to watch Rita struggle against the flush that was rising up across her cheeks. It was only when Rita braved glancing up at Connie from where she lay, that it became clear to her that she was being teased. She felt herself tense with the realisation that Connie knew...she knew exactly what sort of dream it had been.

There was a moment between them so charged that neither spoke. Connie could feel the frustration within the other woman's body, she could see the rise and fall of her chest that she struggled to slow.

"Relax..."

She whispered. She felt dizzy. Something about this woman lying on top of her stirred something within her that she hadn't felt before – the desire to give her what she wanted...needed...without expecting anything in return.

With a breath she reached for Rita's hands with her own, interlinking their fingers, squeezing gently.

Rita exhaled. Connie's breath against her cheek did little to relax her, and her body simply refused to do anything but remain stiff and uncomfortable.

Connie cleared her throat and shifted ever so slightly, unlinking one hand from Rita's and placing it upon Rita's shoulder. The very touch of it made her feel as though the air had been sucked right out of her lungs, and the skin of her right arm prickled with goosebumps.

"Tell me..."

She whispered, and Rita closed her eyes. She'd known she wouldn't give up asking...

Connie used the very tip of her middle finger to draw tiny circles on the skin of her neck, just behind her ear, every one made her shiver, every one made her heart beat that little bit faster. She inhaled slowly to steady herself.

"We were in your office."

She began, struggling to concentrate. The circles that Connie was drawing were getting gradually larger, slipping gracefully and feather-light across her flesh.

"You were...only wearing your underwear..."

She paused again to swallow, and to feel the smile of Connie's lips against the side of her forehead. Her breath was hot and sweet, and her fingers began to stray from her neck, reaching down further, and further, tortuously slow, molasses slow, lovesick slow...

"You stood behind me and held me there...you kissed my neck..."

She couldn't help but let a small smile slip between her lips as she remembered that particular moment...how hot Connie's mouth had been against her...

"Did I?"

Connie asked, her voice barely a breath, and before Rita could begin to speak again Connie dipped her head, she brushed her lips against her neck, parted them, and slowly, slowly she trailed hot, wet open mouthed kisses from behind her ear, to her collar bone, where she caught the involuntary rise of Rita's body, and the utterance of a moan that escaped her lips.

Rita's head felt light. Her body seemed to gasp for more. She closed her eyes tighter as the warm flutter of teeth across her throat made her chest rise and the diffusing heat of adrenaline made her nipples stiffen so painfully that she could feel every movement of the clothes she wore against them.

"Keep talking..."

Connie whispered, barely able to keep her voice level.

It was all Rita could do to force herself to remember. Connie's lips remained so close to her neck that with each exhale she shivered and the wet skin of her neck was flushed cold whilst the fingers of Connie's right hand slipped in lazy patterns across her arm, ever so often grazing her breast.

"You held me so tightly. You whispered to me that you wanted me...and you touched me..."

"Where did I touch you?"

Connie murmured quickly. But Rita couldn't answer, and Connie knew very well where it was that she had touched her in her dreams, because when she allowed her fingers to stray from her arm to the skin in between where her top met her jeans, Rita let her head roll back against Connie's shoulder and her hands balled into fists at her sides as she tried to remain still.

With one hand, Connie pushed the button of Rita's jeans open, and with her fingers she lowered the zip just enough so that they gave way at her hips. She held the other woman tighter, holding her close, and she listened to the shallow gasps of breath within Rita's throat, how they grew shorter and coarser,and how her body shuddered with anticipation as her fingers slipped below her waist band.

She paused, wanting her to need her, and Rita pushed her body back against Connie's, the little shift of her hips silently asking for more.

Ever so slowly her fingers pushed further beneath the dark blue denim, being careful not to touch until her hand was completely obscured, only the elegant flex of her wrist was visible as she hesitated again, before ever so slowly running the tip of her middle finger across her underwear.

Rita's entire body flinched, her breath caught in her throat. She was hers, in that moment she existed solely at the tips of Connie's fingers, and she gave herself to her completely.

Connie's fingers traced that line up and down, up and down across the lace of her underwear. She was wet, and she was hot, and she swore low in her throat as Connie touched her through the fabric, her body gently writhing as she parted her legs, wishing she would push beneath the lace, so desperate for it that when she finally did, her vision splintered, her eyes blotted out everything but the burning white light of pleasure that built, and built, until like a mirror thrown to the ground her body shattered into pure energy.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the feeling so exquisitely beautiful and full of pleasure that she didn't notice that she had thrown her arm back above her head, or that she had balled up Connie's hair into a fist until she relaxed with a final shuddering gasp of ecstasy and she was left panting and light headed, her body slack against Connie's.

"Fu-uck..."

She hissed, her mouth was dry and she licked her lips, they tasted of salt. She felt Connie smile into her hair and the kiss of her lips against her head.

"How did you...?"

Rita made to ask but she was too out of breath, her body twitching involuntarily as Connie slipped her hand free. She hadn't kissed her, she realised, she hadn't touched her, or undressed her...and yet she had never felt pleasure so intense ...and just from a single finger tip.

Connie merely smiled slipped her hand over Rita's.

"Practise."

She whispered.

Well, that was entertaining to write. I hope it was ok...?! Let me know what you think as usual, please :) I'll update again after dinner! xxx