Seema's Journey Ch. 03

Seema awoke first, her senses sleepily relaying information bit by bit to her brain. Her right leg and arm were draped possessively over something delightfully warm and her face was pushed into a cosy nook, with something soft and tickly against her face. A hand with slender digits rested lightly on her forearm.

Her eyes slowly opened and for a bizarre and sleep fogged moment it felt like her face was adorned with a dark gossamer mask. The scent triggered Seema's memories of the night before. She smiled within the soothing mask of Simran's tousled hair, breathing in the scent. Seema felt fantastic, not groggy in the slightest. She awoke fully with a pronounced zest for the rest of the day.

Seema slid her arm up, lightly brushing her fingers over Simran's breasts. Simran remained sound asleep as Seema carefully lifted her head and gently extricated herself from Simran's warm and sleepy embrace. She looked longingly at Simran's breasts as they rose and fell, before gently pulling the duvet up.

Simran had a soft and contented look on her beautiful face as she slept. Seema could have stared at her sleepy features for the rest of the morning. She lightly touched her lips to Simran's. Simran stirred, turning her head towards Seema, but her eyes remained closed. In her sleep, she whispered a barely intelligible 'Love you'.

Seema smiled, a warm flush gushing through her body. "Love you too," she mouthed.

She threw on her robe not bothering to tie it at the front, quietly made her exit and padded towards the kitchen, deciding en route to cook poached egg and toast, giving her beautiful lover breakfast in bed.

She cast a wary glance at the front door. She hesitated before deciding to check that it was still securely locked.

As she prepared breakfast, she thought of their love making the night before. She lifted her right hand to her nose. She could still just make out a faint imprint of Simran's sweet and heady scent on her fingers. She smiled and kissed her fingertips, vividly recalling the feel of Simran's sex. She had been so delicate to the touch and so hot and wet.

She ran her tongue over her top lip, feeling the thin ridge of the gash left by Jake's swinging elbow. Though she felt a chill, with a clearer head she found she was able to ask herself why Jake would have done what he did. She guessed his pride had been dented after being dumped. Seema knew how he felt. But Jake had never done anything like that before, as she had told the police. She shivered at the memory, thankful that Jake had been so drunk, and flaccid. She had been spared that horror, she thought. As far as Seema was concerned, it didn't matter that they had once had a very healthy relationship. What Jake did the morning before was horrid. She shivered again.

This particular morning though, Seema relished her happy and effervescent mood, and she almost felt sorry for Jake. But, not quite. Hopefully, by now, the police had caught up with him. They can deal with it, thought Seema.

She turned her attention back to the breakfast, and back to her love, Simran. She smiled, unconsciously running the lightly scented tips of her fingers over her tongue.

As she watched the eggs cooking in the old egg poacher her mother had given her, she pondered the day ahead. She wondered what Simran had planned. Simran had mentioned somewhere special before they had finally fallen asleep in each other's arms the night before. A meal? Theatre? Cinema? Bed, and more love making? Seema closed her eyes and smiled at that thought.

The toaster pinged, pushing up two slices of wholegrain toast. Seema pulled her attention back to the eggs. She turned the heat off and removed the poacher, silently thanking her mother for what she thought at the time a slightly unusual flat-warming present. The eggs looked perfect. She poured two glasses of orange juice and set them aside whilst she slipped the eggs on to the toast.

She carefully arranged the eggs on toast, orange juice and cutlery on a tray and padded quietly back to the bedroom.

She pushed the door shut and placed the tray on the bedside table. Simran had stirred but she was still asleep, snoring lightly. Seema smiled. Her dark hair was still tousled, fanning out in stark contrast over the white cotton of the pillow and the dark nipple of her left breast peeped out from under the duvet. Seema squeezed her thighs together as she summoned the memories of Simran's perfect breasts cupped in her palms.

There was a different fragrance to her bedroom, more apparent after the scents of cooking breakfast. It was Simran's natural sleepy aroma mixed with her own. Seema wanted it to smell like this every morning from now until the end.

Seema leant across to brush a few waves of hair from Simran's cheek and lightly put her lips to it.

Simran inhaled quickly and muttered something incomprehensible. She moaned softly and took a long sleepy sigh as her eyes slowly opened. She turned on her back and stretched her slender arms out above her, groaning as she blinked. She yawned and turned towards Seema, propping herself up on her elbow as her eyes focused. She ran a hand through her tousled hair, roughly finger combing it as a sleepy smile formed on her face.

"Morning, my sexy girl," she said.

"Hi," whispered Seema. She leant forward and kissed Simran lightly on her lips.

"I've probably got morning breath, sorry," Simran whispered.

"Hmph, so have I, probably," Seema giggled. "I've made you breakfast."

Simran sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Aww, Seem, I should be doing that for you."

"Well, I wanted to make you breakfast, so there!"

Simran peered at the tray, and then at Seema's cleavage peeping from between the lapels of her untied robe. "Mmmmm, my favourite! Is it still hot?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Good, because so am I!" Simran giggled. "Breakfast can wait. Get back in here. I wanna make sweet and naughty love to my babe!"

Simran slid down and lifted the duvet, exposing her naked body.

Seema wasted no time, throwing off her robe and diving in to the cosiness under the duvet, straight into Simran's warm embrace.

#

Seema felt incredibly mellow as she washed the crockery. She looked out of the kitchen window and smiled. They had made love, eaten breakfast, and made love again in a hot and steamy bath. Seema felt light-headed just thinking about it. Fingers had been gentle and less rushed, taking time to elicit the proper slow crescendo towards climax. Simran's fingers had worked exquisitely in the bath, the frothy soap bubbles giving them a Teflon touch.

In the soothing bath water, they had climaxed together. Simran had hugged Seema so tight, her lasting climax so strong that she wept as she came down from her zenith.

There had been no penetration though, no fingers exploring. Seema was not bothered by this, but wondered who would take the plunge and do that first. She closed her eyes and sighed at the thought of Simran's fingers inside her.

"Right, if it's ok then," Simran said as she strode in to the kitchen. "We'll go by my place and pick up my work clothes, a few other bits and bobs, and then we'll go for a walk in the sunshine. It'll do you good to get out, won't it honey."

She had such a big and wide smile on her face that, for a moment, Seema ceased to worry about trading the security of her apartment for the outdoors. After all, Simran would be with her.

Simran was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a chest-hugging blue t-shirt. Leather sandals adorned her delicate feet, a thin silver chain twinkled around her right ankle and a matching silver ring curled around her little toe.

"Wow, Sim, you look good," Seema whispered, running her gaze up and down Simran.

"Well, same for you, gorgeous," Simran said hugging Seema close. "I love it when you wear leggings! Our sessions at the gym, hmm, just so I could see you in leggings, sexy girl!"

Seema threw the tea towel on the kitchen table and let Simran's warm lips connect with hers.

#

As Seema unlocked the door, a sudden chill came over her, prompting some unwanted memories. She imagined Jake standing on the other side, his eyes dark with anger and his muscular body coiled and ready to strike. She tried to push the intruding recollections out of her mind, not wanting anything to spoil this day.

"Babe? You ok?" Simran squeezed her shoulder.

"Yeah...umm, yeah."

"Nothing and no-one will get past me," Simran said softly. "Not to my Seema."

Simran put her arm around Seema's waist and pulled the door open, gently coaxing her through. She took the keys, shut the door behind them and locked it before taking Seema's hand in her own. She squeezed it.

"See?" Simran pecked her on the lips. "Come on. Today belongs to you and me, my love."

Seema squinted as her eyes got used to the sunshine. They took the steps down to the car park, past the recently planted birch saplings. At some point the day before, the little park on the other side of the saplings must have been mowed. Fresh bark had been laid around the plant beds, giving the whole area a freshly tended look. Seema had been completely oblivious to any gardening activities.

Simran's little white Ford was parked nearest to Seema's flat. The nearside mirror was still at a jaunty angle, held fast with strong black duct tape. Simran's attempts at treating a few rust patches over the wheel arches were still evident, patches of grey primer paint mapping out the treated areas. Seema smiled. Like me learning how to light a wood fire, she thought. Who needs a man around, anyway?

"Beautiful day," Simran said as she thumbed her key. Her car beeped its welcome.

Seema still felt jittery, looking over her shoulder back up the steps and casting quick glances side to side. But Simran was so attentive, her presence alone was reassuring.

"It is lovely," she said as she got in the car. "It's only lovely because you're here though."

Simran closed her door. She stroked Seema's cheek. "Come, let's have a lovers' day!"

Simran fired the starter motor and the little engine spluttered into life. She slipped the car out of the car park and into the laid back Sunday traffic.

#

Simran's flat was on the fifth floor of a glass fronted and recently converted factory building. Ten years ago, this part of the city had been a particularly downbeat area, but since then it had been re-developed and cleaned up. Three other buildings had also been redeveloped and the land between and around the blocks had been meticulously transformed. Trees had been planted, concrete expanses turned into frequently tended grassy areas with stainless steel water features set in raised flower beds. Simran's building had been one of the first to undergo redevelopment.

Unfortunately, the lift was out of action, and had been for several months.

"It's a bit of a pain," Simran said. "But, good exercise!"

They were both so happy and mellow that the climb to the fifth floor was anything but a problem. Seema spent the whole journey up the wide whitewashed staircase staring at Simran's bottom.

"Next time we have to climb these stairs, you can walk in front and I'll stare at your bottom, eh!" Simran laughed merrily at Seema's embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd notice!"

"I can feel your eyes burning my bottom!" Simran giggled. "And I love it!"

Simran's apartment was smaller than Seema's, about half the size. The kitchen and lounge formed one room, halved by a polished oak work surface. Then there was the bathroom and Simran's bedroom. It was certainly compact, but Seema had always liked it.

Rather than opting for the norm furniture-wise, Simran had decked it out with colourful oddities. Instead of a sofa or suite, she had two brightly coloured giant beanbag-cum-chairs, which were deceptively comfortable. For TV she had a tiny PC with a large lime-green retro-styled monitor, all resting on an orange 1960s style shelf set, all curves and squares and looking like it shouldn't be able to hold anything.

The kitchen was painted bright yellow and tiled in orange around the sink. A tall and narrow, yellow art-deco style fridge sat in one corner, a small cooker and microwave in the other corner, mounted within simple, but well-designed fitted oak cupboards. It was compact and bijou.

Seema knew her bedroom was the same; colourful, small and very cosy. There was always a nice smell to her bedroom, a combination of subtly perfumed hand and face creams and the lightly scented oils in the earthenware oil burner on her bedside table.

"Won't be a sec, honey," Simran chirped as she skipped through to her bedroom.

Seema sat down on one of the beanbag chairs, the yellow one. She sank in as it adjusted to her body form. She sighed contentedly as she thought of spending the first proper day with Simran. And night, she thought, resting her head agaist the soft rustling chair back.

"Babe," called Simran from her bedroom.

"Yeah."

"Raid the fridge. We may as well take anything that would spoil. We can have a bit of a picnic. We can take the rest back to yours then."

"Ok."

As Seema sorted through what to take and what to leave, it occurred to her that she and Simran had effectively been a 'couple' for some time. Though, she guessed and hoped they would now be spending a lot more time together.

Just as she had shut the door to the fridge having filled two plastic carrier bags with food, Simran's phone rang. It was an old fashioned bell ringer which Seema had always loved the sound of.

"Let the answer machine take it, babe," called Simran.

"Ok honey."

Seema walked through to the lounge just as the beep sounded on the answering machine. A stern voice jumped out from the little speaker.

'Simran? Are you there? Well, it's your uncle.'

Seema had met Simran's uncle only once, but once was enough as far as she was concerned. She listened to the disembodied voice which still commanded respect even down a 'phone line.

'I need to have a chat with you. Urgently. About... certain matters.'

There was a long pause.

'Well. Call me when you have a chance. Bye.'

It wasn't that Seema didn't like Simran's uncle Mo'. She just found him old fashioned, and a little scary. He was a tall gentleman with a natural poise and a deep sonorous voice. His eagle sharp eyes were perfectly suited to his big city, big money job, though Seema could never quite remember what it was he did. All she knew was that he was a rich man.

"That sounded serious," Seema said as Simran came back hefting a large sports hold-all.

"Hmm. Everything is serious to my uncle Mo'. He'd 'phone the authorities if his morning papers weren't folded exactly so." She chuckled as she let the hold-all fall to the floor with a deep thud.

"I'm glad that looks really heavy!" Seema laughed. "It means you're staying with me for a long time."

"You don't mind, do you," Simran asked apprehensively. "I don't want you to think I was presuming..."

"Sim, as long as we're together, I'm happy, ok?"

"Good," Simran said softly. Her smile returned, lighting up her face. "Right then. Let's go!"

#

Simran drove at a leisurely pace out of the city. The grey stone and red brick of the city districts gradually gave way to the open and landscaped regularity of the industrial parks, which in turn gave way to the randomly rolling green of the countryside. Simran let slip their destination.

"You remember we've been there before?" Simran asked.

"Yeah. It's lovely. You and me had a picnic there, didn't we? Ages ago!"

"Yeah. We did."

Simran fell silent. Seema looked across, feeling a little awkward in the sudden break in conversation. Simran brought the car to a halt at a set of lights for some road works holding the traffic up. She met Seema's gaze.

"That's when I realised I...had feelings for you." She blushed.

"Really," Seema said softly. She put her hand on Simran's arm. She now realised why Simran had been so adamant about spending the day at this particular park. Seema leant across and kissed Simran's cheek. "Then this is going to be a beautiful day."

Simran eased the car forward as the signals changed. "It certainly is, my gorgeous girl."

#

The car park was only just over half full and many people were happy enough to sit nearby on the picnic benches, either letting their children run riot in the play area, or simply lounging in the welcome warmth of the sun. It was roughly bowl shaped which sheltered it from any breeze and made it an extremely effective sun trap.

The view stretched away before Seema as she looked along the wide and shallow valley which was the country park itself. It was famed for its natural forests and meadowland as well as a large population of deer and a beautiful slow moving river which was wide and shallow, and perfect for paddling. Seema guessed the park covered at least twenty square miles.

She protested as Simran insisted on carrying the bag with all the food in, but Simran was playfully adamant. They sauntered through the gate that took them on to the main tarmacked path that ran the length of the park alongside the river. As much as she tried to forget Jake's visit, Seema couldn't help casting a wary glance all around.

Simran grabbed her hand and pulled her close. "Don't worry, honey. Shit face isn't anywhere near. And I've got this!" She hefted the picnic bag.

"I know," Seema tried to laugh. She glanced over her shoulder again towards the car park, scanning the vehicles and faces. She frowned. "It's just that I could have sworn~"

"~could have sworn nothing, ok!" Simran pecked her on the cheek.

"Sorry, it's me being a daft girl!"

"You're not daft," Simran said softly. "You're beautiful. No-one is going to hurt you ever again."

They walked on in comfortable silence. Seema realised after a few hundred meters that they were still hand in hand. 'This feels so right,' she thought. 'It doesn't feel strange at all'. She looked at Simran. Simran looked at her. They giggled.

As they walked, they passed many couples. There were a few long glances in their direction, Seema realised, but she really didn't care. It felt perfect. For the next mile, they said nothing but glanced at each other, a little self-conscious at their daring openness. They smiled and giggled quietly, amused as passers-by tried their best not to stare.

Seema felt wonderful.

#

"This is it, isn't it? I remember that massive tree, oh yes, I remember!" Seema cried.

"Yes, this is it. Beautiful, isn't it?" Simran sounded wistful as she put her arm around Seema's waist, pulling her close. "It was here that I fell for you..."

Seema could have cried. She lifted Simran's hand and kissed her fingers.

"So, you fell for me when you were still with Kirran?" Seema asked as they walked up the grassy slope towards the giant oak tree. Beyond the tree, a small group of deer scattered, reconvening at a safer distance further up the slope.

"I know, naughty of me," Simran apologised. "It was starting to get bad with me and Kirran. I couldn't help it~"

"Really, Sim, I don't mind! I wish I had known..."

They reached the shade of the grand tree. Seema closed her eyes and listened to the warm and gentle breeze rustling softly through its branches.

"And we sat...just here." Simran let the bag drop to the floor.

Simran sat down on the soft grass and pulled Seema down next to her. Seema draped her arm around Simran's shoulders. They snuggled up and sat in silence, looking out across the country park and listening to nature purr. Feeling no threat from the softly spoken interlopers, the group of deer had slowly moved back down the slope to happily graze the lush green grass a few metres away from the tree.

"Really don't want to go to work tomorrow," said Seema softly.

"I know," Simran sighed. "I want us to be together all the time. But, it means we have evenings and weekends to look forward to. And any holidays we take."