How I Fell In Love With The Most Beautiful Woman In The World . . .

This is the story of how I realised I was helplessly in love with my best friend and eventually came to accept that I am a lesbian. For what happened te morning after, please read Marie - Sunday Morning

Marie had not intended to stay at my place – she had marking to do the next morning – and had brought no overnight things. But we could not get a taxi to stop at our restaurant and it was quicker and safer to walk straight back to mine. On the way back it began to rain: a soft, drenching shower that cut silently through the dry, dusty Mediterranean heat. Before long we were soaked to the skin, but our spirits were not dampened. We slipped off our shoes, joined hands and ran barefoot along warm, rain slicked tarmac.
 
Giggling and breathless we reached the front porch, light summer dresses clinging to our bodies, warm rain trickling down bare skin from strands of damp hair. Her lovely bright eyes were dancing, her face illuminated with amusement as she turned to face me in the streetlight, waiting for direction. Breathing heavily, I paused indecisively, my neat and tidy mind upset by the novelty of the situation and temporarily distracted by practicalities: what to do with our wet clothes, did I have a spare toothbrush? Impatiently, she pulled her sodden dress over her head and then smiling folded her arms across her bared chest. Heart pounding, I bustled my beautiful friend through the door and left her dripping on the carpet.
 
I ******** off my own dress with some relief and we carelessly tossed our wet things in a colourful pool on the doormat. Freed from clinging clothes, I scampered upstairs in search of towels. I skipped back happily to the damp girl in my hallway, standing pretty and fragile in her plain cotton knickers – it had been too hot to wear anything else. Her naked breasts were firm and pale, like alabaster, her beautiful white tummy smooth and gently curvaceous. I patted dry her lovely chestnut hair and covered up her nudity in a large bath towel. I wrapped myself in another towel and we both slipped out of our wet underwear, grinning sheepishly at each other like bashful school girls.
 
I took her by the hand and led her into the living room. We curled together up on the sofa and listened to jazz, bare feet stroking comfortingly against each other. We chatted easily but my mind was racing, my little heart still fluttering. Two girls, one bed, and no pyjamas! What a dilemma! Marie is two sizes bigger than me and we both knew that she couldn’t wear my clothes. She was my beautiful captive (at least until her dress dried!), enslaved in soft cotton bonds.
 
At last our conversation tailed off and we drifted upstairs. We brushed our teeth slowly in the bathroom, each waiting for the other to move first, but then we both discarded our towels at the same time and without awkwardness. We sat on the edge of the bed, naked as the day we were born, hips and shoulders touching gently. I rested my head lightly against her and she stroked my hair and held me gently. Enveloped in her arms, I felt completely protected and safer than I had ever been since I was a little girl. Then lifting my head to face her, she kissed me ever so softly on my lips. My whole body flushed with warmth and my loins turned to liquid gold. We turned back the covers and slipped our bodies between deliciously cool, soft sheets. She kissed me once more on my forehead, like a mother reassuring her child, and we settled back in our snug little nest. I wanted to hold her and tell her how much I loved her, but I was so relaxed, so comfortable lying naked next to her, that I sank immediately into deep, blissful sleep.