Chapter 14

I’m feeling light again in my heart and in my soul, even my flesh and bones have acquired gossamer weightlessness. Sometimes a little healing comes when you least expect it.

She is still holding me in her arms: unceasingly kissing my mouth, insistently touching my tongue with hers. I wrap her waist with my hips even tighter as if making it clear that I have wanted more than our deep wet kisses and nice tongue rubbing.

How foolish of me to think that Alana might be hiding something; of course, I didn’t believe that she was a killer-spy, pffft, but some strange feeling used to torment me. Now that everything has been said, I feel not only aroused but relieved of all suspiciousness that was hovering around her. We are just two working women who deserve a great beach holiday.

And… oh my gosh! I'm having a real summer lover! I’m like a heroine of any straight romantic comedy... but without any saccharine ‘manboy’ of course (hahaha, not in this life, and hopefully, not in any other lives). I have always thought that this kind of thing happens to anyone, but me. A couple of my relationships were just like in ABBA’s song: "I've had a few little love affairs they didn't last very long and they've been pretty scarce"; and you can also add ‘pretty awkward’ and ‘pretty boring’ here. It, undoubtedly, doesn’t rhyme, but quite true. You know, it’s just the exact stupid feeling when you get the wrong door, but it’s somehow indecent to apologise and leave immediately, and you stay in the hope that you will like where you are... Plot twist: you never like it!

I would have jumped for joy and clapped my hands if I hadn’t been afraid to fall off Alana. Although, I will probably have time for jumping today. The girl backs away to the bed and slowly sinks onto her back without letting go of me trying not to interrupt our kiss. Fortunately, I finally find myself on top. Her eyes are dark with excitement; she quickly licks her lips, sexually arching the back. I lean over her, tickling her face with my long rye-colour hair, as she runs her hands over my buttocks and up my waist straight to my super sensitive breasts.

Even a few seconds without her lips seem to be wasted. Mischievously I bite on her lower lip, causing her to moan (You are not the only one, Alana, who likes to bite). While I strip my lover’s shoulders, her fingers, that have been busy touching my bun, have already slid into my shorts, forcing me to stop kisses for a few seconds; it makes me soundlessly open my mouth from the familiar feelings that will grow into something bigger and more beautiful. 

The black-eyed rogue, taking advantage of my slight confusion, hugs me tighter, turns around, and presses me to the bed, mounting herself on top. One cocky nipple is peeking out of a sexy V-neck collar of her peach-pink loose dress. The dark areola is perfectly round as though the circle was drawn by a heavenly compass that belongs to a divine draftswoman.

Damn, fine, fine… So be it, I'll let her be my top one more time.