Just June Pt. 05

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“How are we going to sort this out?” June looked at Pixie.

“I think we just did,” Pixie giggled.

June grinned.

“I suppose we just did. You know, you are amazing!”

“Snap!” Pixie said, “I was just going to say that. I don’t think that we need, even if we could, to try to fit into some model of dominant and submissive.”

“But you are incredibly submissive, darling, letting me expose that cute ass to Bobbi. Oh, and just so you know, I did not really want to go that far – your ass is mine – but at that moment, well, you know!”

Pixie nodded, marvelling at how well they seemed to understand each other.

“Oh my!” Pixie began.

“Are you, I never, oh!” June collapsed as Pixie said:

“I never asked, do you have a girlfriend?”

“I was only going to say that to you,” June said, “maybe we should just complete each other’s sentences and have done with it. And the answer is no, I am fancy free. You?”

Pixie’s face lost its grin for a moment, and June, looking at her, feared the worst.

“I was,” Pixie began, “but…”

“Now you are MINE!” June finished the sentence, much to Pixie’s glee.

“I can’t even tease you!” Pixie protested, “it’s not fair!”

“Oh leave the teasing to me darling, I have an advanced diploma in it. But really, you are free of others?”

“Yes,” Pixie said.

“So?” June’s voice suddenly lost some of its confidence, which did not go unnoticed by Pixie.

“Can I be your girlfriend?” Pixie asked.

“I was going to ask you that,” June said. “The answer is yes, if I can be yours.”

“Settled then!” Pixie laughed.

But June, being June and the practical one, added swiftly:

“How’s this going to work? I think you said you were in London, and I am up here, and I doubt long-distance relationships can work.”

“Hey,” said Pixie, “can I get a squeak in?”

“Okay, little one,” June joked, sensing that Pixie quite liked mention being made of her height, or lack thereof.

“Yes, I live in London – at least for now.”

“Sure,” said June, her mood turning darker as reality began to burst her bubble. Pixie was some kind of posh girl from London, she, June, was just a rough northern tart. How foolish of her to assume, even for a moment that they could be a “thing.”

“Well,” said Pixie, “I just accepted voluntary redundancy from my uni, they need to save money by culling staff, and as, unlike others, I can manage without the salary, I decided to go. So, I am looking, as they say, for other things.”

“Wow!” June exclaimed. “Geeze, you’re one of those brainy nerds. I better warn you, I left school at eighteen and never went to college or uni. Hey, hang on, what are you saying?”

It suddenly hit June that Pixie had just broken the pin that was threatening to burst her bubble.

“I’m saying that I could find somewhere to live up here and rent my London flat out at a good profit. It’s cheaper to live here – and,” Pixie added, “someone I love lives here.”

June, who never used what she called “the L word” lightly, looked hard at Pixie.

“Pix, you’ve known me scarcely twenty-four hours, isn’t it a bit premature to use that word?”

“Well,” Pixie said, looking into June’s eyes, “I could lie and say I like you a whole lot – I do, but that’s so not expressing it.”

Even as Pixie was speaking, it came to June.

“Sod it! If you love me, I love you more!”

“That’s only because you are bigger than me.”

“Well,” said June with heartfelt emotion, “it’s what’s inside, not what’s outside that matters – but for the record, I think you are the cutest thing I ever saw.”

“Why, thank you, Miss,” Pixie said, leaning in to kiss her lover. “And you are gorgeous.”

“I know,” said June, “NOT!”

“Don’t you go dissing my girlfriend,” Pixie giggled, pretending to be indignant.

“So,” June said, “you’d move up here?”

“Yes,” Pixie said, firmly, “I have friends in London, but I can always see them, and my mother lives in East Anglia as does my sister, so I am no further away from them.”

“You have a sister?” June asked?

“Yes, older, prettier and sexier, and hands off, she’s spoken for. She’s married to the man of my mother’s plans, a rich banker called, appropriately, Rich. But annoyingly, he is not only good-looking, if you like that sort of thing, but he’s a nice man and a good dad to their little son, Leo.”

“Geeze,” June exhaled, so there’s a clan? I am an only child, and there is just me and my mum.”

“No dad?”

“We don’t istanbul travesti talk about him, they are divorced. And you?”

“More or less the same, though they are still married. He lives in Hamburg with his Mistress who is twenty-five.”

“Oh, I better watch out then,” June joked.

“Well, let’s see, you are female, attractive and under thirty-five, so watch out.”

“Oh I don’t do men.”

“Nor did his previous girlfriend. He has an effect on knicker elastic – he is a photographer and artist.”

“Fair warning,” June said. “So he’s German, hence the surname?”

“He is, and quite well known in his field.”

“Well you are obviously not short of money, and pretty posh with it – are you sure you want to be with a common girl like me?”

“What was that you said about appearances and it being the person within who mattered?” Pixie said, kissing her as they lay there.

“Fair play,” June said, “but would you really move up here for me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t for anyone else, so yes!”

And that was how, June reflected as she lay there, it had all begun. She looked at Pixie as she lay there next to her. That night at the hotel had been a special one – the first of many. She smiled to herself as she recollected the next morning which had brought the first of quite a few surprises.

She and Pixie had drifted off in each other’s arms, exhausted by the emotional and physical toll which the evening had brought.

June had woken first and ordered a light breakfast. When it arrived, she had woken Pixie. She thought back, remembering as though it was yesterday.

Pixie woke, momentarily wondering two things, where she was and why her whole body seemed to ache?

“Coffee and a croissant my love?”

She looked up to see a clean June in her bathrobe. She smiled, appreciating the care and love being shown to her.

“Please, and thank you.”

“You’re always so well-manned darling.”

“Well, Mama always said good manners cost nothing!”

“You call your mum Mama?”

“Of course, she’d give me the death stare if I called her mum.”

“How’s she going to cope with me, or am I to be your dirty little secret?”

“Oh she disapproves of my sexuality, is sure it’s only because I have not met the right man. And yours? By the way, I never asked, are you bi?”

“Mum’s fine. I did once have a boyfriend, once being the operative word and the friend thing being inoperative. How about you?”

“Boys? Yuk!” Pixie said. “All girls’ school and college sorted that out, darling. No, I am a girl’s girl. Thanks for the coffee, I begin to feel awake – that,” she smiled, “was quite the night. Now darling, as the local expert, where can I find a church?”

Whatever June had been expecting, it was not that.

“A church?”

“Yes, big building, towers or spires optional, full of vicars and old ladies with hats, go to them on Sundays, you know that sort of thing!”

“But, Pix, you’re a lesbian?”

Pixie grinned.

“Glad you noticed,” she leant in and kissed her. “Guilty as charged. And I am a lesbian who goes to church.”

“But I thought churches did not approve of lesbians.”

“Oh darling,” Pixie smiled, “when was the last time you went to a church?”

“That would be the next time which would be the first time. I’ve never been. You, you believe in all that?”

“All that?” Pixie giggles, “oh yes darling, but don’t worry, I am not one of those running about trying to convert others and saying I am saved and that sort of thing.”

“Glad to hear that,” June said, “but if you are saved, why not go on about it?”

“Well, darling, entre nous, it was a close-run thing, so one doesn’t want to boast!”

June broke into laugher.

I am going to have to get a dictionary, I can see that. Short answer love, is I have no idea.”

“Oh well,” said Pixie, typing something into her phone, “there’s St John’s about half a mile away and they have a Eucharist at eleven, so plenty of time yet. What time do you have to get home darling?”

June looked at Pixie with amazement.

“You are going to church, after last night?”

“Oh yes, what else would one do after all that sinning?”

“I give up!” June grinned. “I have to work tonight at the restaurant. What time’s your train?”

“Well, as the conference was paying, I have an open return. I have to check out of here at noon, but other than that, I am my own boss – Boss,” she laughed. “I can see if I can book another night.”

“Pix, istanbul travestileri would it be too soon to spend the night at mine? When do you have to be back in London?”

“No, and let me check.”

Pixie checked her diary and replied:

“I have an appointment on Tuesday afternoon, but am free otherwise. If I can wash a few things at yours, I can stay till Tuesday.”

“I guess you’ve run out of panties, slut!”

“And whose fault is that?” Pixie smiled, kissing June.

Pixie showered and they went down for more breakfast. There was a silence, but a companionable one.

“Are you sure, Pix?” June asked when they were settled.

“Of what? That I love you? Yes. That you love me? Yes. That this is going to work? Yes.”

“You sound very certain.”

“No point being half-hearted,” Pixie smiled, sipping more coffee.

“But coming up here? It’s a huge change for you. What will you do? You know I work, so what about you? And where will you live?”

“Details,” said Pixie, with the air of a woman who meant it. June sighed. She guessed that having money and the sort of background Pixie had gave you a social confidence she could never manage to muster.

“Well,” Pixie mused, “I did have a plan for down in London, but it might be easier to do here, and it would cost much less.”

June looked interested. Maybe she was wrong, maybe Pixie was not some posh dilettante.

“Do you work at the restaurant all day?”

“No,” June said, “I work in an office of a morning. Why, what’s your plan?”

Pixie grinned.

“Well, despite what you might think, I am a tolerably good short order cook, and a whizz with coffee, cakes and biscuits. I have also taught art classes and creative writing.”

“Okay,” said June, always glad to know more about her new lover, but wondering where this was going.

“Well, I was going to open something I have called an “Artwork Café” in London in Teddington by the lock, the idea would be to provide good coffee and homemade cake and biscuits and quiches, that sort of thing, and to have space for classes devoted to art and writing. I’d found a good place in Teddington, an old café/restaurant, and if I could find one here? I thought I might also provide some after-school classes for mums and kids?”

“Wow!” June replied. “You’ve really though this through, haven’t you? Well, let me think, there are some places which closed in the pandemic, and I’d guess they are going cheap – cheaper than London. But could you make it pay?”

“Well,” Pixie replied, “the idea is dependent on three things. The first is that there is enough demand from arty types, for the sort of classes I’d do. The second is that I could get mums and toddlers in, I have all the required certificates to work with kids. And the third is that my food and coffee are first rate. As for staff, I’d do the bulk of it, but if you knew anyone with experience in the trade?”

Pixie grinned at June.

“Well, as it happens. I could be free after lunch, and I have a couple of friends at the restaurant who’d appreciate some morning work.”

“Sounds a plan,” Pixie said. “Now, if I am going to make Church, I’d better check out and get on. What do you want to do about later?”

“First,” June said, “don’t book another night here, stay with me, please.”

“Deal,” smiled Pixie, “and shall we meet here, and you can decide on lunch? I’ll leave my case here, okay?”

“Deal!” June agreed.

And she smiled in reflection, that was how it had begun.

Pixie had gone to church, and then they had gone to one of the nicer pubs for lunch. Pixie had suggested a posh restaurant, but as the high end one was where June worked, she did not fancy a busman’s holiday, and suggested a nice riverside pub, which had done them well.

June had worried about what Pixie would think of her modest two-bedroom place, but she need not have bothered. Pixie, as she learned, was whatever the opposite of snob is. She had no sooner got into June’s place than she had asked where the tea was so she could make June a mint tea.

Smiling, June had showed her.

Pixie had not only brought her a cup of tea, but she’d also offered her a foot massage, which she had accepted. The memory of that made her snuggle into Pixie.

It had all started innocently enough.

It turned out that Pixie gave good massages, and June, who spend so much time on her feet at work, was grateful to relax and let her lover soothe all the painful bits. She lay back on travesti istanbul the sofa and let Pixie do her stuff.

At Church, Pixie had thought over what she was doing, and said a prayer for their joint future. The service was the sort of well-ordered one she liked, and she had looked forward to her lunch with June.

She could tell that June was shy about her house, or as she called it “my little place.” Pixie’s view was simple. It was June’s and therefore where she wanted to be. She’d noticed June was hobbling a little, still on those Saturday night heels, and she’d offered to massage them.

As she got June to relax, Pixie could not resist moving up to her calves, which, like most women’s who wear heels, were a bit tense. Pixie spent another twenty minutes relaxing June. Then, slowly, her hands moved up, above the knee, sliding June’s skirt upwards. She looked up at her lover.

June was looking at her, drowsily, relaxing. That was enough for Pixie.

She began to kiss the inside of June’s thighs and, meeting no resistance, she continued upwards until June’s red panties were on show. Opening her legs, she could see the tell-tale damper patch where her panties had ridden up between her lips.

“Pixie, you are very…”

Whatever she had been going to say was lost as Pixie’s fingers, having pulled aside her panties, slid along the slit between her swollen lips. As Pixie’s tongue touched her there, June let out a moan.

June loved having her feet massaged. The only problem was that it could make her feel rather aroused, but as it was Pixie doing the massaging, that problem became its opposite – and an opportunity.

The closer Pixie got to her pussy, the more June wanted to grab her head and push her face in there, but the cunning little minx had so relaxed her that all she could summon the energy to do was to lie back and let her lover have her wicked way with her.

The feel of Pixie’s tongue there, that flick, flick, flick, followed by the slow but insistent pulse sucking, just sent June into a haze of erotic pleasure as she surrendered herself. She felt herself raising her bum, Pixie pulling her panties down, putting her legs over her shoulders, and then Pixie’s tongue and fingers working their pleasure on her.

Pixie loved to see June so relaxed – and aroused. She sensed to the point of certainty, that June worked hard and knowing that June loved her, Pixie wanted to make sure that she could relax and just enjoy it when they were together. She knew, that if she wanted, June would do the same for her. That would have been just June’s way, she knew, but this, she giggled to herself, was Pixie’s way.

June was so wet and open that Pixie had no troubled working three fingers into her straight away. She loved the feel of June’s wetness, as well as her smell, and as her fingers began to work their magic, Pixie treated herself to sucking on June’s swollen clit. As she pushed her face into June’s nectar, she felt little orgasmic shivers pass through her own body; this was, indeed, mutual pleasure.

June threw herself back, letting Pixie take control and do whatever she wanted. All June needed was to let it happen: that tongue, she gasped; hose fingers, opening, pressing in and out; and now, geeze, Pixie’s left index finger teasing her most private opening. June was not into anal, but whatever it was Pixie was doing, might make her reconsider – and then she dissolved into spasms of sheer orgasmic bliss.

The sudden squirt into her face took Pixie by surprise. She’d always wondered about those stories which had women squirting, but thanks to June, she knew it was true. The feel of June’s juices coating her face sent mini-spasms through her; she knew she should have taken her knickers off – that was another set for the wash.

As June’s eyes and head cleared, she was conscious that Pixie was still inside her, possessing her, owning her, taking her; that gave her another small orgasm. Geeze, had she squirted? She thought she might have done. She looked down just as Pixie looked up, and seeing the state of her lover’s face, June knew the truth of it; Pix had made her squirt. Fuck! And that thought triggered another small earthquake in her core.

That look in June’s eyes, thought Pixie, that was it, love and lust combined in perfect proportions. She waited, cleaning June’s pussy and thighs carefully, just keeping her fingers in play but not moving them too much. It seemed to make June happy, and that, above all, was Pixie’s desire.

“Oh Pix, that feels so good. Geeze, did I squirt?”

“You did, my love, and I relish the compliment.”

“Oh darling, that feels so good, your fingers there.”

“One,” Pixie said, “we are as one.”

“Yes,” June murmured happily. She knew that it was not just her who felt that way.

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