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Another Day Ff Lesbian


If you haven't read "A Discovery" before finding this, save yourself the agony, go back and read it first. These two stories were originally intended to be one continuous tale, it was only when the story reached its' 8th page, with a lot more to follow, that I reluctantly chose to break it in two (and then three).

"Another Day"

Awakening at the break of dawn was not my style; on any normal Saturday I rarely regained consciousness before 9. ...but as we all know this was no ordinary morning at all. It was ...another day!

The sun rose lazily, seeking out the darkness and chasing it back, to where it hid during the day. My eyes slowly adjusted to find the comforting dim red glow of the room we had shared the night before, was being replaced by the ever brightening light of a new dawn. Had it not been for the events of the night before, I would have found little pleasure in waking so early. As clarity formed within the fog of my mind I discovered I was excited by the early hour for many reasons. One: The earlier I woke the longer the day might be, and all the more adventure it might hold. Two: At this hour it was blissfully peaceful, quiet, time to reminisce over the tenderness and love of those hours not long since past. ...and Three: Had I stayed asleep much longer, I would have missed the beauty of the sleeping angelic form that lay beside me.

Melanie lay at my side, facing towards me, less than a foot away covered by nothing more than a sheet pulled to her waist. Her rumpled, shoulder length blond hair lay askew, framing her face like the veil of a newlywed after her vows have been sealed. The cool blue eyes that always seemed to twinkle were hidden from view by eyelids that closed like little doors, shutting out the world from the peaceful slumber within. Though it took a while to discover what had seemed so curiously absent, I was mildly surprised to find not a trace of makeup. I had often seen my mother in the bathroom, with tissue in hand, wiping away the smudges of her "war paint" in the morning. While Melanie's face was totally void of all imperfections at this early hour.

Her cute little nose was slim and straight, unlike mine, which had suffered a devastating blow while trying to play soccer at school. Word to the wise, should you attempt this sport, when attempting to "head" the ball, use your forehead rather than your face. I had spent over a month with a white bandage over my nose prominently proclaiming my folly. When eventually unveiled, a bump had appeared midway down my nose, forever reminding me that soccer was not meant to be "my thing".

Below this the ever-present smile, though less prominent, could still be found. What perfect contentment she must find in life, that even in sleep, her mouth always formed that same gentle curve. Years later I would remember that smile and realize that it held a voice that had never once passed words that were sharp, at least not in my presence. Rather, everywhere she went, there was always a kind or encouraging word with everyone she spoke. Her words always seemed like a refreshing rain, which she spread wherever she went, washing away the troubles and sorrows she found.

Lowering my gaze, I was bewildered upon discovering her breasts encased in some sort of strapless tube top affair. Unlike a tube top, it didn't flatten the sources of the offering she had shared with me, rather it appeared to gently caress and restrain. Never having had children, to this day, I've never discovered exactly what this was, though it bore a slight resemblance to the "sleeping bras" common today although it had more substance to it, perhaps it's no longer made. My commiseration was further enhanced in that I had no memory of when this adornment had found its way to join her.

I thrilled at the sight of the gentle curve from her waist, to the rise of her hips beneath the sheet. I remembered the downy blond patch signaling the closeness to the silken folds I had momentarily caressed. Though denied me before, this was a region I craved to explore, not only for the passion I knew it yielded, but also curious at the secrets every woman kept hidden. I had tried the "mirror thing" but this was different, exotic!

A nearly imperceptible sigh shattered my musings. Instantly averting my gaze to her face, I discovered the cool blue eyes, no longer hidden, were taking in what the early morning light revealed.

Whispering softly, "Sorry for waking you."

As she reached to caress my cheek, she responded, "Just habit, it won't be long before the demands of motherhood awaken once again."

Remembering the "demands" I had not only witnessed, but also shared the night before I hooked a finger into the cleavage formed by the newfound raiment that caressed her chest. With a soft tug, I turned a quizzical face to her. She explained that one day her natural figure would return, hopefully, and without support her breasts would soon lose the ability to stand prominently as they should, rather giving way to the irresistible forces of gravity. With the same gentle tug, accompanied by a wink this time, Melanie sat up and raised the semi elastic garment over her head casting it to what, by now, must be a small mountain of clothing gathering at the side of the bed.

Resettling beside me she allowed my fingers to trace the outline of her breasts. I tingled anew as her hand reached me, to likewise caress mine. Commenting that I adored the fullness of her chest and longed for the day that I could display similar curves, she responded;

"A's are nice, B's are great, C's get in the way and D's will give you little joy, other than the looks they collect from others. Happiness is not found in having what you see around you, rather with being content with what you yourself have become."

Looking back, her words seem prescient, as if she secretly knew that my dreams of a fuller figure would never be fulfilled. The subtle wisdom of those words are often revisited as I lay alone, in more mature years, often accompanied with misty eyes brought about by memories long ago shared, or other memories still hoped for.

Letting fingers stray, they found their way to her hip still enshrouded by the sheet that half covered us. I drew the covering slowly lower, attentively searching for any change in her expression that might signal disapproval. Joyously, as the sheet reached the limits that the length of my arms could provide, she rolled onto her back, fully displaying her golden hued down. A trembling hand reached her stomach, luxuriating in the softness and warmth it found. Her bush was like a beacon, calling out to me, begging to be explored. Lithe young fingers again approached, to tentatively comb through golden curls. Creeping gingerly towards her silken cleft, I looked to her face for encouragement and found her eyes closed once again, melting into the sensations I was, hopefully providing. As her chest heaved with a tender sigh, I detected a single white pearl appear on her nipple. Remembering her reactions from our first sharing hours before in this very room, I stretched to capture another offering with my lips.

Again her chest heaved as my lips made contact, accompanied this time with a sexy little purr. Lasting only a few moments, I was saddened as she pulled away from me, sitting up she chided;

"Now look what you've done."

My concerned look confirmed that a slow trickle had begun to seep from her breast. She leaned to me and kissed away the frown her recriminating words had wrought.

"Just kidding! Sorry, I warned you that the demands of motherhood would soon awaken. Though I have no doubt you would love to take care of this little problem for me, and you are welcome to all that I can provide. However, Caroline comes first, and I can assure you that right now she is awake in her crib awaiting a fresh diaper and her breakfast. While I get her, why don't you go warm the bottle we filled last night. We'll have all the time we need for each other, later."

Halfheartedly, I relinquished the desires of my heart. Now was not the time for childish longings, responsibilities must be met. Arising, I found my rumpled skirt within the pile of discarded clothes. Melanie playfully chuckled, "Why?" As she backed away, then turning to stroll out of the room wearing nothing more than her smile. Why indeed thought I, as the skirt resumed its resting place and I breezed towards the kitchen, enjoying the newfound freedom that accompanied my nudity.

Opening the refrigerator, I was troubled to find three bottles neatly standing in a row, one behind the other with only minor variations in the level of milk they contained. Though I was almost certain which bottle I should be preparing, my instructions had not been to warm A bottle, more precisely to warm THE bottle we had conspired to fill the night before. Padding my way back to the hallway I asked which one was last nights?

"All the way in the back, the last one in the row." Came her cheery reply.

Upon fetching the last bottle and placing it in the saucepan of water on the stove to warm, I realized the contradiction of her request. Returning to Caroline's room I reminded her of her rule of rotation. Always use the foremost bottle, thereby assuring that no single bottle sits idle for too long. Her mystical response answered nothing;

"I know. I had a marvelous idea that I believe you may enjoy. Caroline and I will be waiting for you in my room and ...warm it a bit more than usual, but not much."

The old adage goes that "With age, comes wisdom", I was beginning to believe that age had somehow shown up alone. As I awaited the water to warm and hence the bottle with it. I slowly realized I had four mysteries all contained in her words over the last ten minutes.

"We'll have all the time we need for each other, later." There was little doubt my mother would be anticipating my return home soon after lunch, and that didn't quite fit with the words I had just recalled!

Then there was the direction to warm the bottle a bit more than I normally did, along with the "out of rotation" request for last night’s bottle.

Finally the greatest mystery of all. Melanie nursed! Why am I warming anything?

(Dang, wouldn't this be a wild place to end part II? Leave everyone hanging, like an episode of Dallas!)

Finally, with bottle in hand, I made my way to "our" room. True to her words there sat Melanie, with Caroline playfully crawling on the bed beside her. I was amused to discover, she had moved to the other side of the bed, leaving ample room for me and the baby. I also secretly shivered at noticing that it was me she was watching as I approached the bed, a subtle delight in knowing that my naked form was not going unnoticed. Handing her the bottle, which she took and placed, without comment, on the nightstand behind her.

Folding a pillow to rest against, I sat on the bed. As she reached to scoop up her daughter she asked me to fix her pillow also. Folding it in two, I propped it against the headboard, against which she half reclined cradling Caroline in her arms.

I am eternally amused at the way in which children can instantly change the object of their attention with only a minor change of circumstance. Only a moment ago playfully crawling about the bed, now in her mother's arms attentively seeking her breakfast. With the wipe of a towel to prepare a "clean plate" from mom, Caroline immediately fell to the one chore she had mastered, and which I continued to envy. Again the contented smile appeared as mother and daughter melted into one. How I yearned for the sensations that brought the loving sigh to her lips, as eyes softly closed. Wishing to share this incredible scene, I allowed my hand to caress mother and child as one.

After little more than five minutes, Melanie's eyes opened taking in the intimate connection the three of us shared. With a wink, she eased her daughter from her breast and offered her to me. Soothing the anxious half fed little bundle was amazingly simple when she sensed my flesh make contact with hers. Mom retrieved the bottle from the nightstand, removing the nipple she dipped her finger into the bottle, she then reached to me and smeared the milk on my nipple.

"Now you try." She mused.

Reminding her that I had already attempted this in private, with only momentary success, Melanie giggled;

"Caroline is no dummy, she was doing all the work and expected to be rewarded for her efforts. Let's see if we can't remedy that."

Bringing the baby to my breast, she instinctively found the milk-coated nipple. Lips met flesh and a tender little tongue explored to wipe away her breakfast. Melanie encouraged me to hold her closer, much closer;

"Caroline knows what to do, it's you that needs to learn."

Cuddling her closer, I was astonished when she appeared to take the majority of my breast in her little mouth. Tiny lips gently massaged me as her tongue gently caressed the underside of my nipple. So this was my error, I had thought babies sought a nipple, little realizing that the breast was much more than a milk container. Reaching behind her once again, mom brought forth an eyedropper with its long slender glass tube and the rubber cap on top. Dipping it momentarily into the bottle she brought forth a full measure of milk which she quickly moved to where breast and lips met. With gentle pressure, she eased the tip between us, and slowly emptied the eyedropper of its contents. OH, the rush was phenomenal! The tongue began dancing feverishly, as lips developed a more steady pulsing movement against me.

I drifted peacefully away, relishing the sensations she gave me. I felt ...near the edge of tears as this divine little creature shared with me. Eventually, the tongue gradually slowed its delightful dance and with it the pulsing lips eased their pressure. I opened my eyes to discover a bottle nearly empty, still held by a mother that was beaming brightly, for me it was as if time had stood still. Glancing down I discovered a sleeping child had replaced the playful little clown in my arms. Gently raising her to my shoulder, I began the little pats accompanied by soothing rubs on her back that always followed her feedings.

"Are you still burping her?" Came mom’s surprised remark; "After eight months they learn how to do it on their own. Take her back to her crib, I have a chore for you."

Enroute to her crib, I continued the little love pats on her back, old habits have a life of their own! Blissfully remembering the many sensations of the past twelve hours, I glided back to find Melanie fully reclined in the middle of the bed with pillows restored to their rightful positions. A big grin welcomed me as I cuddled up beside her, reveling in the feel of flesh against flesh as hands began their delicately delightful dancing massage.

"Since you had the pleasure of serving breakfast this morning, now we need to finish the job."

She explained that a mothers body automatically adjusted to fulfill the needs of their children. Having only shared a small amount with her daughter, the rest would have to be drained, otherwise, sensing the diminished demand her body would begin to slow its' production. I could either retrieve the pump, or ...I could find another means to alleviate the problem.

DUH! This is a chore? I can handle this one, personally! Sealing my commitment, to her needs with a kiss, my mouth found its way to the orb her daughter had initially enjoyed. Upon contact, I genuinely attempted to mimic what Caroline had instinctively known. I considered that all the new wonders of this weekend might never end as I realized that I, a fifteen year old, was learning how things are done properly, from an infant.

Eventually switching sides, I remembered the events of last night, and how she had enjoyed her own sensual massage as I had nursed, much as I was now. Nimble fingers began to trace delicate patterns on her flesh as I sought to find that secret place from which passion flows.

Quiet sighs escaped her, as fingers found the bush signaling the approach of more tender, hidden places. As my finger entered the cleft of her passion, her hips rose to meet me. I found her already moist as my fingers were driven deep to her silken folds, totally saturating them with her own personal lubricant. Subsiding, my fingers were lead once again to her button. I commenced the gentle rhythmic dance that would lead to where I wanted to take her. Returning often to replenish the moisture she generously provided, her loving sighs became more plentiful as hips rose to meet my caress with more insistent thrusts.

Feeling her fevered state, I left her breast behind as I slowly descended leaving kisses as I went, while fingers continued their private dance. Almost reaching my goal, a half choked voice announced;

"You are doing just fine, no need to go there."

With my whispered "Shhhh", she surrendered to my exploration as thighs parted assuring her acceptance. As lips replaced fingers, a gentle quiver rolled through her limbs. Sensing this unmistakable signal of impending bliss my tongue crept out in search of moister regions. Gathering her flavor to me I impaled her button between insistent lips as my tongue sought to mimic the feverish dance her daughter had taught me. Only this time there was no nipple to entertain, rather her most tender of places. Within moments she arched her back and thrust her hips against me forcefully, the vibrations of her spasms transferred to me from the place where our bodies met. For nearly a minute we hung there, suspended, while I basked in the knowledge that I had returned the same loving kindness she had shown me. Now I had given love, rather than only receive.

As she subsided to the mattress, I again delved the mysteries of her moisture with my tongue just as she had done the night before. Ascending to rest at her stomach, her face beautifully glowing above and between the twin mounds of her breasts was proof that a picture is worth a thousand words. As her breathing subsided, she looked at me and with waggling finger beckoned me nearer. Pulling me to her, our lips met, tongues intertwined as she shared from me the scent she had left, the taste I had cherished.

I would have been content to lie here, snug as a bug kissing and cuddling in her arms, for hours. As we lay together, she slowly moved one leg under mine until I lay astride her thigh. A gentle but steady pressure began to move my legs apart as she brought her leg against my womanhood. Hips began to undulate against her as I reveled in the simplicity of holding her close, senses came alive with her smell, the feeling of flesh warmly pressed together and the feelings that were awakening with my passion. Continuing to move against her, I became aware of little else, save the contact between us and the building tension within my loins. With a crash like thunder, I welcomed the exquisite joy of the spasms that flowed from deep within me. Hugging her to me, I sought to share the pleasure she had given with the vibrations I knew she could feel coursing between us.

Eventually opening my eyes, I was amused to find her watching me, eyes soft and tender, the insistent smile more prominent than ever, almost a grin now. Though I longed to lie silently with her as long as she would allow, questions began finding their way into my mind like little ants creeping in unnoticed to disturb a peaceful home. As a gentle finger traced the outline of her mouth, I asked;

"You always smile, as now. What is your secret?"

"Everyday of your life is filled with little joys, learn to savor each one as it comes and remember it long after it passes. Less joyous moments will abound, learn to put them behind you quickly. As far as now? There are many ways to make love, I tend to take particular pleasure in seeing the joy I have given. The expression on your face as you reach the peak of your passion and gently slide down the other side, is truly one of the greatest." She responded. "For now, perhaps we should begin our day with a shower, lest we announce to everyone the secrets we've shared together, I'd bet you mother would know exactly where your face has been if she could smell you now."

With the mention of my mother, one more question instantly formed; "You said we'd have all the time we need for each other later! I hope this will not be the end, I've treasured every moment. You mentioned last night that some women appreciate this time more than others, I think I may be one of them."

"So do I, my dear. So do I!"


Thus we close what has long been the most joyous days of my childhood. It would be 2 years later, that she would give into my pleading, and take the most precious gift I could imagine.

My cherry!

...as a frustrated writer, I would adore to hear any comments you may have.

CNYCarol

End of Story