Love's Wicked Craft Ch. 02

"Hey soldier," said Bailey between bites of breakfast, "Why are you so quiet?"

Catherine looked away, flinching on the inside as she heard the designation. She'd guessed as much, that Sergeant Brusso would dominate Bailey's morning after personality. No surprise there. After the sex, they'd left the bedroom, pulled down the shades over the living room windows and lounged naked as they shared a couple more drinks and some conversation. Catherine didn't have much to say about her past lovers, but Bailey had plenty to say about her own.

They'd midnight snacked after that; first on their Mexican left overs, and then on each other. Back in Catherine's bed, their kissing resumed and their fingers roved until they arranged themselves in what Bailey called a Dutch tulip, which was just a prettier way of saying side ways sixty-nine. Cat was as grateful for the second session as she was for the first. They drank deeply of each other, dipped fingers and tongues; thoroughly soiling each other with the fragrant animal liquid of their lust.

Cat played with the contents of her bowl as she reflected on Bailey's eventual drifting off to sleep and her own wakefulness as she laid spooned behind the blonde; still amazed, energized, her nose and fingers alert to the aroma of her hair and the soft, smooth slope of her hip. A sudden smack to her thigh brought her back to attention. Bailey leaned around the kitchen table and gave Cat another decent slap on her leg. Smarting, Cat smacked her back, then they laughed, parried and blocked until their hands came peacefully together.

"I like you cat. "said Bailey as she assessed the melancholy look in her student's eyes, "You're lots of fun. That was; uh, a great work out last night."

Catherine gave her a small smile, and then looked down at their clasped hands. Is that what we're going to call it, she thought, working out? They sat in silence for the moment; Cat stroking the length of Bailey's thumb, the blonde's grip loosening by the second. She was fully dressed again, teeth brushed and hair bound back, while Cat had thrown on her pink terry cloth robe.

"So; I'll see you Sunday afternoon at the gym," asked Bailey as she got to her feet and then brought her bowl and spoon to the sink, "For a; business as usual work out?"

Business as usual? Oh, I get it: mums the word, be discreet. Sure; I'll soldier on. I always do. All's fair in love and war, after all. I just want to know when I can eat your pussy again. Watching Bailey gathering her things, Catherine mused that there were four people between them: the fitness trainer, her student, the seductress and her prey. It was as if making love to her, tasting the woman animal of her, was like finally stepping out of a life of cold autumn shade and into a sudden, new existence under the consoling warmth of the sun's light. Eyeing the shining lavender Randy Romp demo kit, Cat imagined herself at the gym, working out in a T shirt that said: "I just had phenomenal sex with Bailey Brusso, and all I got was a vibrating but plug and this lousy T shirt.

"And," Bailey continued as she crossed to the front door, "We'll talk about; you know, getting together again. Kay?"

"Kay." answered Catherine eyeing Bailey with what she hoped wasn't obvious doubt.

And why not risk being perceived as doubtful? She had nothing to lose, as much as she desired to sleep with Bailey again. Cat's quiet was a symptom of her depressurization from having done all those things with Bailey throughout the night. She was so afraid to say too much, that silence was the safest bet. But, Cat knew Bailey wasn't stupid. Prepared to leave, Brusso had paused; studying Cat's face. Then, the blonde quickly stepped back into the kitchen, took Cat by the chin and gave her a deep kiss, just as sweet as any she'd given the night before. Cat kissed back;, already planning what she'd do with her body the next chance she got, where she'd put her tongue and how much she'd enjoy it. I still can't believe it, and it's probably just as well that I don't.

"I promise you," whispered Bailey after she'd broken the kiss, "We'll do this again. Between you and me; what do they say about discretion?"

"That it's the better part of valor?"

"God, you're so cute Cat. Yeah, I like that: the better part of valor. Last night's between us, kay; please?"

"I understand." Catherine nodded, her chin still in Bailey's grip.

One last kiss and Brusso was out the door. Catherine went to the living room window, sat on the love seat beneath it, and then raised the shade ten inches from the sill. She watched Bailey checking both ways of the sidewalk as she approached her car. The act reminded her that she'd forgotten about Frank's having confronted her the day before. Catherine then made her own check, peering down both ends of the visible distance of her street. All clear, she thought as she turned to watch Bailey getting into her car.

An instant later, not having looked back, Bailey was gone. Catherine remained there for a time; taking in the mundane details of her empty street, and listened to the morning doves, the neighbor's air conditioners, a screen door's slam, a baby sudden crying, and a small dog barking in the distance. Still inspired, she loosened the belt of her robe, and then opened its folds. Enjoying the quiet start of the day, Catherine exposed her shoulders and breasts, and then began to lavish their contours with her own long fingers. Sighing, she rose to her feet and let the robe drop.

Comfortably naked, she Made her way back toward the kitchen; one set of fingers still fondling a breast while the others found her moist sex. Heading toward the bathroom, Catherine thought about how miraculous, and how odd, love was.

Like so many things in nature, it was ordinary in as much as it was extraordinary; sowing itself in an instant and often out of nothing more than a snap decision, a single look or the briefest touch. And sex was always there, the concrete yet fluid rush of it, the chemical composition behind the spell binding of one unique soul to another; the one's lips meeting the other's until they came more deeply together, body to body; the heat, the friction, sniffing like an animal at the scent of the one in your nose, the taste of her in your mouth, etched in your memory, as if memory, remembering was all that it took to keep her interest, her desire to honor and obey, respect, reflect, without suspect.

Cat was watching herself in the vanity's mirror, devouring her own breasts, brazenly meeting her own gaze as she did so. Presently, she stepped to the edge of the tub where she'd left the vibrating but plug she'd removed and cleaned late the night before. Cat had certainly made it her own. It wasn't the sort of thing you gave back, after all. It was left to her, free of charge, along with a small tube of water based lube. Her ass was a little soar, but that wasn't going to stop her.

Still pondering the prospect of love, Catherine went about the re-insertion of the plug into her ass. Bailey was a thriving, self contained, living miracle; a piece of art to observe , to interact with, a gift that can quite easily take itself away, rain come back another day, how could I ever think that such a creature would fall in love with me?

Catherine left the bathroom, and headed back into her bedroom. There, upon the very center of the mattress, was Bailey's tiny vibe. Sex was the firmament, Cat realized, and love was the sky; vast, blue by day and dark by night, a figment of imagination, a symptom of desire and an abstract concept. An abstract wasn't real. Love was a perception; and if two people didn't equally share the perception, see themselves through the same lens, the construct would ultimately collapse.

Catherine took up the little vibrator, gave it a good sniff, and then laid back on her bed. Getting cozy, and then closing her eyes, she wondered how possible it was for a pair of bisexual women to become so long term committed that they became common law lesbians. Before pressing the tiny vibe's button and thinking back on the sights and sounds of Bailey, Catherine bet herself that Hannah would know the odds.