Such a Sweet Surrender

'I expected you to be a lot pushier.'

'Me?' Hev laughed. 'I'm the sole of discretion, me.'

A waiter arrived with curried chicken livers that really were to die for. Ignoring them, Viola took hold of Hev's hand across the table. She was still wrong-footed by her friend's dress and behaviour and . . .

Well, by life in general, if the truth be told.

And her weak knees hadn't even started to recover. Neither had her thighs; they felt as if she'd been running up mountains, and steep ones at that . . . Meaning Himalayas, not mere fells or hills.

'So tell me more about you,' Viola began. 'Where were you before uni?'

'I thought you knew everything there is to know about me.'

'There are gaps, and I need to know. So where were you at? You sound as if you were brought up at Cheltenham Ladies.'

'Cheltenham, as if,' Heather laughed. 'I've never even been to the racecourse, never mind the girls' school.'

'So where did you get so well educated?'

Hev shrugged her broad, shapely shoulders.

'I had the usual local primary start,' she said, 'but most recently I went to The Manor School for Young Ladies. In case you haven't heard of it, it's a frightfully posh school in one of the most exclusive parts of Cheshire.'

She was right; Viola hadn't heard of it. Her bit of Manchester was smart enough but not exclusive . . . and certainly not frightfully posh. The only millionaires in her part of town played for United, but none of them real superstars.

Although legend had it that Cantona had once lived less than a mile away.

Not that King Eric was ever pretentious in any way.

Hev really had seemed different, though. It was hard to believe she'd been to a "local primary" . . . not of the sort she knew herself, anyway.

'Aren't you from a farm in Yorkshire,' Viola said.

'I am.'

'So, landed gentry, then?'

Hev guffawed. 'We had a small-holding. Most of my friends were what we called "scuffers". We were on the very verge of bankruptcy when my dad got an offer to buy from a building company. Mum said she'd only accept it if I got a decent education . . . And the rest is history.'

'So it was a decent offer?'

Heather visibly winced.

'The land had become crap for farming,' she admitted, 'but it was prime building land, so the offer was into the millions. But I still miss my home.'

'Are you saying the land was worth more than the money?'

'Of course I am. Money's okay but land is forever. I'll always miss it.'

Viola paused before asking; 'Did you get a good education?'

'I think so, yes. Ask me anything about Shakespeare or Jane Austin. Or Virgil or Cicero, come to that.'

'I thought you were doing Business Studies.'

'I am. And that's exactly my point.'

They tittered together a while.

'What else did you learn at The Manor?' Viola resumed.

'Do you mean after Lights Out?'

'Yes, I suppose I do.'

'I learned all sorts. After Lights Out was everybody's favourite time of day, me very much included.'

'So did you . . .'

'Sleep with girls?' Heather finished, obligingly.

'Well, it is the obvious question . . .'

'Yes, of course I did, all the time. We all did.'

'And what was that with Katie back in the Union?'

Heather shrugged again. 'As you heard, we're dating on Monday. She's obviously the jealous type.'

'She's jealous of me for going out with you first?' Viola snorted.

'Katie's sort of made me certain . . . promises,' Heather said carefully. 'She probably thinks you might have done too.'

That cued the biggest ever hesitation, anywhere, ever, ever, ever.

'I don't have a clue what to do,' Viola said finally. 'But I don't want to sleep alone tonight. Please, Hev, will you come and share my bed with me?'

Heather pretended to consider.

'Oh go on then,' she said after dragging out a pause, 'if you insist.'

*****

Heather was not by nature timid or subject to reservations, especially not when it came to one-on-one relationships. Or one-night stands, as they were more generally known. Being brutally honest, calling a spade a spade, she was eternally up for sex and very comfortable with being the girl who made the proposals.

She was very comfortable with her proposals always being accepted, too.

Tonight was less than ordinary, however. For once she'd put herself on the back foot. Renowned and voracious alpha as she was, she had rarely ever set out to "convert" a straight girl; that just wasn't her style. Okay, so it had happened more than once, but nearly always by chance.

And nearly always with girls who weren't anywhere nearly as nice as Viola.

Ticking Viola off of a hit list would not be a pleasure; not in every last sense of the word. The girl was beyond good-looking, well into divine and exceptionally gorgeous to boot. Yet converting her seemed wrong. Well, maybe not wrong, but certainly not something to be done without a second's thought.

Viola was a lovely person, full stop. And even if she was up for it here and now, tomorrow she might have regrets. Therefore she needed to be treated with kid gloves.

Therefore Heather's own ridiculous, only too apparent urges needed to be downplayed. In a way that was why she'd given up the habit of a lifetime and worn a skirt.

And daubed her face with a smattering of makeup!

In a way that was why, for the first time ever, she'd done her best to be unintimidating.

Not that she ever set out to be intimidating.

And not that so many girls ever backed off from her, intimidating or otherwise.

No, few ever did and now Viola was clearly not going to be an exception.

Viola really was lovely.

Viola was beyond beautiful, astounding and possibly even stellar.

More to the point, out of simply nowhere, Viola had proposed a night in her bed!

Just like that! With hardly any prompting whatsoever, virtually off her own bat.

Listen to me, Heather thought. I'm rambling . . . rambling wildly inside my own head!

She was also untypically caught in two minds.

To do or not to do, that was the question.

Normally Heather was, to say the least, up for it, especially with girls. With guys she tended to go for the obvious strong, athletic type; with girls she fancied all sorts.

In all honesty she'd never yet met a girl she didn't fancy on one level or another.

And Viola was among the most desirable girls on the planet.

Like in the very top five, if not the top two or three.

Confused as she was, Heather couldn't fail to welcome the invitation. She didn't normally do hesitant but had been at a bit of a loss wondering about "what happens next". She'd also been congratulating herself on the amazing reserve she'd shown so far. By some miracle she'd kept her hands to herself while Viola repeatedly kissed her and kissed her.

Keeping her hands completely to herself was no less than a monumental achievement. She struggled to think of anything that could possibly compare.

Don't look in the box or what!

Then she grinned as Viola's hand landed on her bare knee beneath the curry house table.

'I mean it,' the ebony beauty assured her. 'I'll just die if I have to sleep alone.'

If Heather had bothered with foundation it would have cracked under her broadest ever grin.

'Fear not,' she said, 'your death is not imminent.'

Chapter Seven

Viola was by no means a virgin but she'd never experienced the sort of fear she felt as she led Hev in to her bedroom.

Was it the fear of the unknown?

Was it the fear of final acceptance?

Or was it something transferred from Hev?

She frowned at that. Hev was fearless and intrepid, the very last person to worry about her sexuality.

Yet out of nowhere she seemed less than self-assured.

Oh shit, thought Viola, she's nearly as excited as me!

Hackneyed as the idea was, she knew there was a hint of truth in it. Maybe Hev got off on excitement as much as she did. Maybe the thrill of "new" was all.

Except this wasn't going to be "new" for Hev", was it? No, the novelty was all hers, all sweet innocent Viola's.

And the weight of that novelty was massive. The fear of the unknown; the fear of going boldly where no woman has gone before . . .

Well that was bollocks, obviously. Squillions of women had gone this way before.

Just not right here and now, in her bedroom.

Right here and now with a slightly uneasy but highly experienced lady.

Talking about uneasy, her legs were weaker than they'd ever been.

As was her will to resist . . .

'Are you sure?' Heather asked, her voice a throaty whisper.

'I'm so scared,' Viola admitted, 'but yeah, I'm sure.'

'I'm scared too,' said Heather, quite believably. 'Well, more or less. I don't want to rush anything.'

They were much of a height and kissing had become second nature. Unsure who precisely instigated the latest embrace, their lips met.

Viola's head swam in dizzying circles.

Somehow this kiss was milder than their earlier ones yet more extreme. Perhaps it was because Hev had lowered the passion. In some strange way easing off on the intent made everything . . .

Well, it made everything infinitely more intent.

And what a kiss that was! Thanks to Hev their groins pressed together and so did their tits. A finger or two traced a line down Viola's spine, running over the individual vertebrae, sending out urgent signals through nerves she hadn't been aware existed.

Groaning inwardly, Viola's hands closed on Hev's buns. There was no sense or any forethought in it; they just did. Viola's breath was coming harder than ever. She was aware of Heather's hands closing on her own buns.

That felt heavenly.

Responding naturally, she pressed her groin harder into Hev's.

'Good grief yes,' Hev responded, unfastening their mouths, moving against her.

'You're so good,' she gasped, 'this is so, so good.'

Before she could dwell on the (probably) undue flattery Viola realized her friend's skirt had unfastened itself. It had somehow fallen onto the carpet and Heather's hand was now clasping her own, pulling it between her legs.

Yes, it was leading her hand onto a rather damp thong.

'Come on,' Hev murmured, her voice the sexiest thing ever heard, anywhere, anytime. 'Do me just the way you do yourself. I'll love it. I promise you that.'

'Hev,' Viola squeaked, completely unsure of herself.

No so Heather. 'Please,' she replied, still holding Viola's hand, keeping it tight against her pussy. 'Just do me exactly the way you do yourself.'

Heather's thong couldn't possibly have been any flimsier. It couldn't have been any damper, come to that. Not kissing anymore, staring into each other's eyes, Hev gave encouragement as if it was going out of fashion.

'I really want it,' she said. 'I really need to know what you do to yourself. Ah yes, that's so very good. More; give me more. Don't stop. Don't ever stop, not ever.'

Still strongly suspecting Hev was overselling her talents Viola did her best, first exploring the insides of the world's smoothest, sexiest thighs and then (subconsciously gulping) caressing the thong itself.

And omigod, what an experience! Hev was massively swollen down there. Her secret lips seemed to have taken control; they had swollen and engulfed the thin fabric of her thin strip of fabric, swallowing it, as good as devouring it.

She felt wonderful.

No, she felt way beyond that. Viola struggled to come up with an acceptable superlative.

Well, the words, "fit", "fantastic" and "supremely fuckable did occur to her . . .

She also struggled to keep her fingers still. Totally inexperienced as she was, she greedily went here, there and everywhere about Hev's lower person; those wonderful thighs first, of course; smooth and sleek and intriguingly moist. And then on to the crotch of her thong, gently rubbing, too insecure to be even slightly rough, not wanting to offend.

Heather's hands had somehow got inside Viola's T-shirt. Slightly clammy, super-sensitive fingers slid up her even clammier body, homing in and onto her bra.

To Viola "somehow" seemed to define Hev's approach to intimacy. Not that she was complaining.

Unable to help herself, she wailed aloud. Her tits weren't particularly large but they had always been very receptive. And Hev was squeezing and pressing just so . . .

'Jesus yes,' she whimpered.

Hev squeezed and pressed some more. Without thinking about it in the least, Viola rubbed harder and harder on her lover's crotch.

Omigod! On my lover's crotch!!

Briefly kissing again then abandoning it and maintaining eye contact, they continued to rub and press, moaning and groaning in perfect harmony without actually acknowledging the sheer, total miracle that was happening between them.

Words were unnecessary.

Thoughts were shared without thinking.

Viola's reservations were cast aside forever. She was more than persuaded, more than convinced.

And abruptly, out of simply nowhere, she wanted to cum.

Fuck me, yes!' she yelled . . . before climaxing violently.

In response Hev reached down and steered her hand even more intimately.

Suddenly the thin fabric had been pushed aside. Suddenly Viola's hand was on bare flesh.

A memory hit her with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Heather was sporty as well as fitter than fuck. Hockey and martial arts were her stronger suits but she also starred for Carrie City, one of the better uni football teams. And Viola had taken part in a friendly match, pre-season.

Okay, so she'd been part of a "fun team" (one that got slaughtered by the mighty City) and she'd been on the pitch maybe twenty minutes, compared to Hev's ninety-odd. But after the game she'd seen her in the changing rooms.

No, she'd had the honour and privilege of seeing her in the showers.

Thirty girls showering together had been fun. Although she'd considered herself straight at the time, Viola had really enjoyed the sights and the girlish camaraderie. Smacking and pinching bare bums had seemed to be a reasonable way to behave.

Hev had stood out, however, not least thanks to her tan. Viola's skin was dark ebony but Hev's wasn't so very far behind. God knew how she did it; she must abuse sunbeds horrendously. Maybe all of that outdoor life on a farm had given her some sort of a start.

Yet dark as she was, she still had a white patch down below.

Well, not really white; her groin was darker than most coloured girls', but noticeably lighter than all the rest of her.

Viola wasn't really into comparisons. She loved her dark skin and admired others with similar tones. In fact she admired all tones, colours and shades, up to and including a green alien woman in some old TV show she'd seen, maybe Star Trek.

But Hev surpassed them all. In her opinion Hev was magnificent in every way. And that lighter patch only served to highlight the wonder of her.

'I hate it,' Hev had said once, in the closest to sexual conversation they'd probably ever had. 'As soon as I graduate I'm off to find a beach where I can be absolutely alone for a month. Then I'll be rid of it forever.'

She'd sounded as if she was serious, too.

And all for a stretch of skin that was already a sexy chocolate brown . . .

Touching her now, touching Hev's so-called white patch, her fingers inside her thong, roving over her (invisible at the moment) pussy, she shivered.

I'm touching her, she thought deliciously. I'm touching her and she only wants more.

'That's good,' Heather breathed, as if reading her mind. 'That's great, that's better than best. Do it for me, Vi. Please, please, please . . . do it for me.'

Gently parting Hev's so-swollen lips, Viola slipped one finger inside her.

And she almost screamed out loud.

Hev was baking hot in there and, as if that wasn't exciting enough, her most intimate muscles were clamping on her like a vice.

'Good grief, yes, yes, yes,' Hev cried, 'more, more, more!'

Deciding it would be rude to stop, Viola pressed on.

'Yes,' Hev endorsed, 'oh my darling, yes, yes, yes!'

Chapter Eight

Viola never did work out how long she fingered Hev. All she knew was that it was for a long, long time and it was great, great fun.

There she was, little old her, a girly-girl virgin making one of the world's leading experts in lesbian sex orgasm again and again!

What was there not to be proud about?

At some deep, almost subliminal level Viola did wonder. Shouldn't Heather be the one doing things to her? All said and done Hev was The Expert, wasn't she?

And the non-stop endorsements she'd been receiving were well over the top. Okay, they were all very pleasing on the ear, but how could she be performing as brilliantly as Hev made out?

She was a first-timer, out of her depth.

She couldn't possibly be pleasuring a fellow female so exceptionally thoroughly.

Could she?

In a way Viola believed she could. To begin with Hev had held herself almost completely still, letting Viola's fingers work their magic. But since that initial (over-exaggerated?) orgasm she had started to move her lower body with steadily increasing vigour. Now, God only knew how long they'd been at it, she was moving almost violently, bucking and thrusting, bucking and thrusting.

Her juices were flowing, too. Viola hadn't expected such a flood; but flooding it was, by any possible standards.

'Yes, yes, yes,' Heather continued, showing no intent of dropping commentary or encouragement.

'You're so, so good, Vi.'

'Good grief, I think I'm in love!'

Hearing the same sort of thing dozens of times over didn't pall. And surely that incessant flow of juice could not be faked. Surely it authenticated her success in the most realistic way.

Heather's hands were still squeezing, squeezing. It was the best feeling ever. Indeed it was so good that Viola felt herself starting to go again.

'Hev,' she warned frantically, 'I'm gonna . . .'

'That makes two of us,' Hev cut in, 'let's make it together.'

Viola hadn't the faintest idea how to co-ordinate such a request. Fortunately, Heather had. Squeezing relentlessly, holding Viola's eyes rigidly with her own, she switched her running commentary from that outrageous, over the top praise to soft, purring encouragement.

'This is going to be so good. This is going to be best-ever. I can feel it in you as well as in me. Keep at it, whatever you do. And make sure you look at me while you finish.'

As if Viola could do anything else! Heather's startling emerald peepers were magnetic under normal, everyday circumstances. Just now, under these magnificently extra-ordinary circumstances, they had the gravity of a supermassive black hole.

Or was her mind mixing metaphors in a crude but somehow apt way?

Thinking of Heather and black holes was simply too much.

'I'm going,' Viola gasped, striving not to but failing abjectly. 'No, I'm not going, I'm cumming . . .'

'Yes, yes, yes,' Heather yelled.

And that was that. In the event Viola might have climaxed a fraction of a second early but that hardly mattered. No, Heather immediately, effortlessly caught up and they were cumming together, cumming and cumming and cumming.

Nothing in Viola's life had prepared her for such an experience. Her orgasm was quite cataclysmic but being there with Heather was better by far. Being there, sharing everything . . .

Crazy though it seemed, she experienced Heather's orgasm as well as her own. Hev was limiting her hands to Viola's tits but somehow making all of her body tingle, making every last nerve-ending shoot bolts of sheer joy through her, triggering the most wonderful sensations simply everywhere.

And, despite the unmistakable location of Hev's hands, Viola could have sworn she had fingers inside of her and on her, in her best, most special place.

'Fuck yes,' she managed as her muscles eventually stopped spontaneously contracting.

'Nice, nice, nice,' Hev agreed, 'but there's no need to swear.'