"'Might not put out'?" I scoffed. "That's hardly likely, Doll. I've already had my extremely wicked way with you and I really can't see you declining an encore."
"True, I'm yours to do with as you please." Lucy conceded.
"Don't worry, there's no way I'll be late. I don't want to miss any time I can have with you now."
She stood up on the bed and bounced up and down a bit for a moment. The short tartan skirt afforded her no modesty from my vantage point almost directly below. I could see the puffiness of her pussy lips through the fabric of her knickers. A glorious view.
"Gosh you look sexy in that tiny skirt and those socks." I said. "Now, go on. Quickly! Get out of here before I roll this sheet back and cover you in goo again. And be careful you don't cause any accidents with that short skirt. And pull those knickers out of your pussy, you're developing a camel toe."
She hooked her right index finger under the edge of the fabric and pulled the knickers to one side to flash her pussy at me.
"A reminder of what's on our own late-night 'specials menu'." She said.
"Yum! Much tastier than after-dinner mints, I think." I replied. I licked my lips, stuck out my tongue and made a sucking noise.
"Oh! Stop it, your'll make me wet!" Lucy said. She ran the tip of her index finger along her crack then put it in her mouth. "Yep. Definitely tastier than after-dinner mints." She straightened the gusset and gave me a wiggle of her bum. She jumped off the bed and blew me a kiss as she hurried out of the bedroom with the dress in a clothes bag. A moment later she called "Byee!" and the front door of the flat slammed behind her.
I laid there looking around the room and thinking back over what Lucy and I had done in the last few hours. Everything had changed. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. My relationship with my sister had turned in a new direction. A wonderful direction. Even the room itself seemed transformed by my having shared my private fetish with my sister. The print of Matisse's paper cut-out 'Blue Nude 3' hanging on the wall opposite the end of the bed had been a mute witness to my many previous solo messy sessions in that bed; now the abstracted female form with its plump thighs and blank face tilted towards the viewer seemed to embody Lucy offering herself to me. I started fantasising about covering Lucy in blue paint to recreate the pose in real life. I masturbated to that idea for a while, wondering how I could persuade Lucy to let me use paint on her. I came as I imagined smearing thick deep blue paint over her face. Then I started to think about the other things I could mess her up with, planning a series of messy adventures and trying to decide which to suggest first.
I could have remained in that bed between my sticky vinyl sheets day-dreaming of my new lover for hours, but eventually I had to get out to clean myself up so I could get ready to meet Lucy.
As Lucy had noted, the shower is very powerful and it quickly washed the marshmallow from my body and out of my hair. The multiple nozzles shot streams of hot water at me from all angles and I enjoyed the massaging effect on my tired muscles. There had been quite a lot of lovemaking in unfamiliar positions and there was stiffness in my neck and hips which the water helped ease away. Once I was clean and before I dried myself and got dressed, I turned my attention to the bathroom and the bedroom floor. I always clean-up nude and wet as any further mess is easier to wash off again. There was more mess than I normally make on my own, but the sticky footprints and handprints and the splodges of marshmallow on the floors and walls were quickly cleaned away with the paper towels I keep in the cupboard for this purpose. I cleaned around the bath, but left its sticky contents alone. That would be good for another session with Lucy. I went back into the shower for a few seconds under the jets again.
I came out of the shower giddy with anticipation at the thought of my evening with Lucy. I couldn't remember being so excited by a date. Was it a date? Yes, given the context of what had gone before and what was almost guaranteed to happen after, I think it was. Two people who've made love going out for a meal felt like a date. Lucy certainly seemed to think it was.
I hurried to my bedroom to get prepared. I did a few yoga bends and stretches to ease stiffness and was then ready to get dressed. I wanted to make myself as desirable for her as possible and knew what I wanted to wear to achieve that goal: a white multi-layered floaty minidress with chiffon skirts and sleeves. I selected white underwear to go under this and a pair of dark olive-green stockings - proper stockings with suspenders, not tights - matched with a pair of suede stiletto pumps in the same colour. I don't wear high heels to work too often as I'm very tall - six foot two in bare feet. I'm already taller than most of my colleagues and clients and more inches added by heels means that I'm taller than all but one of my clients. Tonight though, I knew Lucy would be pulling out all of the stops and would be going for heels as well. These green ones were four inches high and made my legs look fantastic. To complement the stockings and shoes, I had an olive-green leather Mulberry clutch handbag. For jewellery, I went with simple diamonds and emerald pieces: a pair of emerald pendant earrings and a platinum multi-strand necklace of small diamonds and emeralds. Last to go on was my favourite Rolex watch with its platinum strap and face studded with tiny diamonds. I put on minimal make-up, just a little smokey grey eye shadow and a deep olive green metallic lipstick that had been a sample from a cosmetics company we did some work for. The colour had not been released yet, so it was pretty unique and against my pale freckled skin it made a striking contrast. My hair I put into a loose pony tail and I clouded myself in my favourite perfume, Penhalagon's Blenheim Bouquet - I love it's citrus scent.
My bedroom, like most of the rooms in my flat, had been decorated by my sister. It was done in a modern French boudoir style with white carved furniture and a palette of mauves and greens. It felt appropriate that my lover had arranged the design of the room in which we were going to be making love later. I quickly tidied. The running gear I had stripped off earlier went into the laundry basket and my running shoes into the wardrobe. The bed linen was fresh, I had changed it first thing that morning. I refreshed the vanilla fragrance sticks on the dressing table. I checked the rest of the flat, found and disposed of my discarded bikini from earlier which was on the lounge coffee table. I stayed out of the third bedroom and its en-suite as I didn't want to risk getting any mess on me. Everything else was satisfactory.
Now I was ready to go, but the clock on the lounge wall was only showing six forty-five. I had nearly an hour to dispose of before I needed to leave. What could I do until then? The wait was making me nervous. I put some music on to try to relax, but music made me think about dancing. Thinking about dancing made me think about dancing with Lucy. Thinking about dancing with Lucy made me think about holding Lucy, holding her tight, caressing her, engulfing her, making love with her again. I wanted that so badly, but I needed to keep myself in check until later. Music was not working, so I decided that I needed to get out of the flat. I collected all my things and left the flat to walk off some of my lust.
Out on the street, the day was even hotter than before and I strolled languidly through my neighbourhood, taking the long route towards the shops at the north end of Regent's Park Road where I knew I could get a cab. As I walked, I was people watching on the street. With the hot weather, there was a lot of light-weight clothing being worn and a lot of skin on display. I noticed a couple walking about ten metres ahead of me carrying a small picnic basket between them. They appeared to be coming from the park. He was wearing a polo shirt, shorts and sandals, she was wearing a short flowery summer dress and white trainers. I enjoyed the view of his muscular arms and legs as he strode in synchronised step with his female companion. That was nothing unusual; a good looking man has always been something I appreciate, but, suddenly, I realised I was also evaluating her legs and bum and her figure with the same interest. Speculating on what was beneath that thin flowery fabric.
I stopped on the spot, mid-step in surprise and embarrassment. Previously, I might have admired a woman's clothes or appreciated her beauty in an abstract way, but I had never before that moment looked at a woman sexually. I felt uncomfortable about my thoughts, which, in the circumstances, was ridiculous. I was looking forward to having sex with my own sister again later that evening, yet I felt awkward over a random sexual thought regarding an unknown woman in the street. I realised that the afternoon's experience with Lucy had awakened something and opened-up my sexual perspective in a general sense and not just specifically with regard to my sister. Should I consider myself a lesbian or bisexual now? I asked myself. Evidence suggested that the latter was probably a working theory for the moment. Time would tell if I still had an interest in men or if I could eliminate them from the menu.
I arrived at the shops. As slowly as I had walked, there was still a little time to waste, so I strolled along looking in the windows of the small independent shops that make the road so interesting. Most had closed for the evening, but the florist was still open for some reason.
I had the idea to buy my sister a bunch of flowers as a love token. Nothing too large or too ostentatious; turning up with a vast cellophane-wrapped armful of a bouquet would have been over the top and awkward. I had a posy of white Freesias and purple violets made-up. I knew that traditionally the freesias symbolised unconditional love and that the violets showed that the thoughts of the giver were occupied with love for the receiver. I also knew that in the Victorian era purple violets were a coded symbol used by lesbians to indicate their love for each other. The florist clearly knew what both flowers meant and the symbolism of the two together. Though she didn't say anything overt, she gave me a broad smile as she tied them all together with a white bow and wished me "Good luck. They're very lucky!" As I left. That made me feel special.
