Dreams and Awakening (1/4, FF,SEXFIGHT) Dreams and Awakening - Part One: A Meeting and a Fall Christie heard the sound of a large truck outside, the brakes puffing air. She put down her coffee, and went to the kitchen window. Outside, she saw a big moving van easing in the driveway of the house next door. Christie brushed away a strand of blonde hair from her forehead. Her pale blue eyes took in the scene. So, she thought, someone finally bought the Emerson place. It had been on the market for several months. New neighbors. Perhaps someone to talk to. She saw a blue Miata pull up, top down. In the driver's seat was a slender woman, perhaps early thirties, with short, black hair in a casual cut. She was wearing a yellow sundress with spaghetti straps. She parked the sporty-looking convertible near the curb, and stepped out, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head. The dark-haired woman quickly stepped towards the truck and started talking to the movers. Her face was animated, her gestures expressive. Christie thought she was very pretty. The general build of the dark-haired woman was similar to Christie's own body; medium sized breasts, slender hips, long legs. The face had a Mediterranean look, slightly dark, with brown wide eyes, a strong nose, and clearly defined cheekbones. White, slightly crooked teeth flashed when she smiled. I'll have to go over later and introduce myself, Christie thought. She's around my age. We can probably have some fun together. Christie thought about her life here. She had been married for five years to Jim, a mid-range executive at a software company. She loved her husband, and the stock options and bonuses he brought home ensured a comfortable living in the upper-middle class suburban neighborhood. She didn't need to work, and whatever restless feelings she had could be sublimated in reading and gardening. But sometimes she wished for something a little more, something to provide her with some italics in the text of her days. Something a bit...exciting. Maybe something a little... risky. Christie realized that it was nearly nine, and she was still in the smoke-colored chemise she had worn last night. Time to get your day going, girl, she thought. She headed towards the master bedroom and shower, slipping her gown off as she stepped down the thickly carpeted hallway. Nude, she reached in to the large shower stall and turned the water on. Steam billowed out of the enclosure and she stepped into the pounding spray. She poured some shower gel into her hand and began to soap her chest. The breasts were high and firm, with pronounced nipples in aureolae an inch wide. She always thought her breasts were nice, not too large, not too small. They were usually quite sensitive, and the slippery fingers moving over them quickly raised her nipples to full erection, like little pebbles. Idly, she cleaned herself, the spray bouncing off the skin. She reached down between her legs. Her pubic hair was closely trimmed, and the lips of her mound were slightly parted to reveal a pink bud. She shivered as her finger slipped between the folds, and stroked her clit. It had been a few days since Jim had fucked her. She ran her index finger along the lips of her sex, and she felt a wetness that wasn't water. She bent slightly forward and her finger found the tip of her clitoris. Her hips danced a little, and she whimpered. She was flowing freely now, the juices coating her finger. Not long now. She moved her hand faster, feeling the building tension in her body. She arched her back and fell against the seat built into the wall of the shower, as the orgasm took her. Her slippery fluids dribbled onto the seat, and she did something she hadn't done before. She took the liquid-coated finger to her mouth and sucked her own juices, quite unconsciously. As she sat there, the hot water striking her face, plastering her hair to her head, she realized something with a start. The images in her mind as she came were not of her husband and his hard cock. They were of her new neighbor. The dark-haired woman in the yellow sundress. Her pretty new neighbor. Christie shook herself and stood up. She finished rinsing the remaining gel, and stepped out to get the fluffy large towel. Where did that come from? She had never had any bisexual or lesbian tendencies. What put that into her head? She snorted. Come on, girl. You saw the neighbor, she was pretty, and you gave yourself a quick orgasm in the shower. The mind does what it does. Don't worry about it. Several hours later, in the warm June sunshine, Christie walked the short distance to the house next door. She had decided to wear a pair of shorts and a sports bra under a tank top. She was barelegged and wore skimpy sandals. Her well-shaped feet looked great after her last pedicure, and her toenails were painted a pastel pink. She carried a bottle of chilled Chablis, and two plastic wine glasses. Christie rang the doorbell. The movers had left. She waited, and was about to ring it again, when the polished wood of the door swung inward. There was her neighbor, still in the sundress. A fine gleam of perspiration shined on her forehead. She regarded Christie with her dark eyes, a hint of a smile on the unpainted lips. "Hi, there," Christie said, smiling. "I'm your next door neighbor, Christie. Welcome to the neighborhood." "Well, thanks. I'm Melissa. Come on in, if you don't mind the clutter of moving day." Melissa opened the door wider, and Christie slipped in past her. As Melissa closed the door, she said, "I wish Bill could be here, but my husband is going to be in Spain for the next few weeks. I had to get here and start the process of moving in, and believe me, it's a chore." They made their way into the living room. Boxes and papers were strewn everywhere. Melissa moved a box off the couch and motioned for Christie to sit down. Christie said, "I do indeed know what moving in is like, and I thought you'd could use a little break, maybe a glass of wine." She placed the bottle on the coffee table, and set the plastic glasses on either side. Melissa's eyes lit up. "What a wonderful idea! I could definitely do with a few minutes of not unpacking. Let me fetch a corkscrew." She moved into the kitchen. Christie regarded the movement of Melissa's legs and shapely rear under the sundress. It didn't look like Melissa was wearing any underwear. A slight, barely noticed shiver went through Christie. Melissa returned with a old-fashioned wooden-handled corkscrew. She sat down beside Christie, and placed the tip of the screw into the cork and started to twist. Melissa's breasts jiggled slightly as she worked the corkscrew in. Christie saw that the nipples tented the thin yellow fabric. Another shiver. Over the wine, they talked about themselves and their lives. Christie learned that Melissa had been born in France to an American father and Italian mother. She was married to William, who was an up-and-coming executive with a multi-national. She had lived the past few years in Spain, and her husband had been transferred to the local office near the subdivision. "It's a bit of pain being without William, but he had some business he had to take care of in Madrid, so it fell to me to make the arrangements for the move. His company found us this house, and set up the paperwork. But Christie, I tell you, I do miss my husband, especially at night." Christie made sympathetic noises. They had finished two glasses of wine each, so she tipped the remains of the bottle into equal shares, and lifted her glass. Melissa did the same. "Well, anyway," Christie said, "Here's to new beginnings." "Exactly. New beginnings." They clinked glasses, the plastic making a ticking sound. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Christie noticed that their bare knees were lightly touching. She enjoyed the contact. The wine had given her a pleasant buzz. Christie looked around and said, "Melissa, is there anything I can help you with here? Maybe we can make this a little easier." Melissa said, "That's sweet. Sure. I've got a couple of boxes of linens I want to move to the master bedroom. They're over here." She indicated the boxes in the nearby dining room." They got to their feet, perhaps a little unsteadily. They walked into the dining room, and both reached down for the boxes. They weren't too heavy, and Melissa hoisted her load to her side, balancing on the hips. Christie balanced her box the same way and they started to move towards the main hall. Maybe it was the wine. Melissa turned to say something to Christie. The corner of the box caught the wall. As she shifted weight to recover, she fell forward, towards Christie. Christie heard her new friend utter a sharp yelp. Then Melissa collided with her and they went down. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Christie dropped her box and reached out with her arms to grab Melissa. Melissa's hands found Christie's forearms and as they fell she grabbed hold tightly. Christie felt her back hit the soft carpet, and then the sudden weight of Melissa's body fell onto her full length. Their breasts pancaked against each other. Christie felt the nipples meet and bend. She gasped. Melissa's right leg fell to the right of Christie's left leg. The dress road up on Melissa's thigh's, and her left leg neatly slipped between Christie's parted legs. Thigh brushed against thigh. Christie felt her left thigh hit Melissa's crotch, and Melissa's left leg impacted her own mound. It was like an electric shock. Stunned, they both took a few seconds to recover. Melissa's body still rested on top of Christie. Melissa let go of Christie's arms, and looked at her, her eyes swimming briefly. She got to her feet and held out her hand to help Christie up. "Oh, dear God, Christie, are you all right? I'm so sorry, dear. I was so clumsy." Christie got to her feet with the help of Melissa's strong arm. Her breasts still tingled from the impact. "Oh, sweetie, it's all right. These things happen. I guess we'll have to watch the wine consumption next time." She giggled a little. "Well, at least not drinking before moving boxes." They retrieved the scattered linens from the fallen boxes, and carried them to the linen closet near the master bedroom. They worked for the next half-hour putting things away, and Christie reflected on the accidental encounter. Good God, it turned me on. The impact. Her body against mine. Breast to breast. Hip to hip. The feel of her thigh on my pussy. She managed to put it out of her mind. At five in the afternoon, she bid her new friend goodbye, after securing her promise to come over tomorrow afternoon for a swim. Over a hastily prepared dinner of breast of chicken, Christie recounted to Jim the meeting with her neighbor. She said that she thought they could become good friends. Jim nodded abstractedly. Christie recognized the symptoms. The office had Jim's attention, and would likely be on his mind all evening. After dinner, Jim disappeared into his home office to check e-mail and catch up on paperwork. Christie absently cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. After the short cleanup, she decided to pour herself a cognac. She set the tuner on the stereo system to a classical station, and sat back on the sofa, feet up, sipping the brandy. It evaporated warmly on her tongue. She recalled the events of the day with a fuzzy good feeling. Without conscious thought, her hand drifted to her chest, and she lightly stroked her breasts. The nipples awoke, hardened into points. She rose from the sofa and ambled into the kitchen with her empty snifter. She washed it by hand and put it away. The kitchen was dark. She could see Melissa's house across the yard. As she watched, a light went on upstairs, and she saw the dark-haired woman walk in, holding some clothes to put into an unseen closet. Melissa left her sight, then came back in. Christie watched as Melissa paused in the middle of the room. Melissa was not in her sundress anymore. She was wearing a dark red robe. As Christie stood looking up, Melissa undid her robe to adjust it. It was just a flash, but Christie saw the firm, dark-nippled breasts. They bounced just a little as Melissa refolded the robe about herself. She then left the room. Christie stood there, holding her breath. She thought she had never seen anything as lovely, as beautiful, as that sight in the window. That night, Christie dreamed. She was sleeping on her back, the covers thrown partly off her body. Her breasts were slightly compressed by the camisole she wore. Her left hand lay across her hips, fingers near the sharply defined cleft in her panties. As she dreamed, the cloth started to darken from moisture. She dreamed in she was in large bookstore, like the Barnes & Noble near the mall. She was in the stacks, and in her hands was a large book on Greece. She had it open to a painting of nude wrestling men. She was in the store and she was absolutely naked, but that was okay, because they're weren't that many people in the store, and the ones that were didn't look at her. The painting of the men suddenly became two women, just as naked as she was. One held the other in a tight bear hug. As she watched, the picture started to move, and the women fell to the floor of the arena, and in very slow motion, they rolled around, still tightly hugging, legs intertwined, faces pressed against each other. Christie felt herself get wet, no, not wet, absolutely dripping. She was beginning to get embarrassed. Someone would notice the spot on the rug. She turned to put the book back on the shelf. After she did so, she was grabbed from behind. She turned her head to see her husband, his face inches from hers. He was as naked as she was, as the wrestlers in the book. With an sharp cry of desire, she threw her arms around him, and kissed him hard, her tongue slipping into his mouth. She slid her hand down below his waist, and grasped a rigid pole. Whimpering with her need, she pulled him down to the floor, and guided his cock into her. He started to thrust forcefully, and she wrapped her naked legs around his back. She pulled her head back from the bruising kiss, and was shocked for only a moment to see the face of Melissa, dark wild hair and wide eyes, staring intensely at her. Only a moment, then absolute lust slipped into her. The cock had disappeared, to be replaced with the wet insistent pounding of cunt against cunt, the slippery feel of erect clits sliding together. Melissa pressed her mouth against Christie's lips. Their tongues explored each other's mouth. Christie felt her breasts rub against Melissa's. Christie felt her back against the floor. Melissa pulled her head away, and said through clenched teeth, her breath hot and moist, "Is this it? Is this what you want? Tell me or lose it!" Christie could smell the unalloyed lust in that heated exhalation. She was about to gasp YES when the dream started to fade, like a movie ending. Melissa disappeared, and Christie's eyes started to open. It was the middle of the night, and her breasts were swollen, her nipples protruding from the camisole like pencil erasers, and her panties were soaked. In a voice still drugged with sleep, she whispered, "...yes...yes...oh, sweet God, yes..." Her finger slipped under the crotch of her panties, and she rubbed the swollen labia slowly, her hips undulating. She softly moaned her climax, like a chant to a distant lover.