The Move - Cover

The Move

Copyright© 2003 by Maureen Louise Reardon

Chapter 1

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Two lesbians trying to move in together.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   True Story   Humor   Oral Sex   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Slow  

We had talked every night for a month. We were going to make the big step. Living together. We had been seeing each other for about a month. Although we had spent every night together, and any free time we had together; it was not "official", as yet. We talked and talked, one night.

"Honey, lets get real," I said. "We are living together, already. Just pick up the rest of your things, and bring them here. You know that is what we both want."

Getting real with ourselves, she went to her parents house, to pick up her things.

I had thought this would go smoothly, forgetting those laws 'Murphy' wrote.

Silly me.

The phone rings. I answer. It was not a '12 step' call, but a call to hear she was in the hospital.

I lost it.

Upset would now be understated, at best.

In anger, I threw a dish at the wall.

Her reason for being in the hospital, had appalled me.

To think that her father and brother had done such harm to her. She had told them she was moving in with me. Her father and bother showed her, what "REAL" men, they were.

Her mother had left the crime scene.

How convenient...

I went to Broward County Memorial Hospital. She was still in the emergency room. She was bruised, and getting stitched up.

She said, "I'm sorry."

I looked at her in disbelief, "Why?".

She said, "I didn't want to bother you."

I said, "Bother me? Never!"

We did not display any affection, for that was not the task at hand.

I said, "Are you OK?"

"The best I can be, at the moment," she replied.

"All right," I said, "where are your belongings?"

"They threw them onto the driveway," she said.

"I'll take care of it," I told her.

"Please, don't hurt anyone," she asked.

"Darling, don't worry. I won't."

I proceeded with the calculated cautiousness, of a scorpion seeking its prey. Knowing of my stature of 5'4", and that a good wind that could knock me over, I went to a pub.

Predicatably, I ran into some of my Irish friends.

David had not had a drink in 9 months, but still loved the companionship of the pubs. David and I were very good friends. An unspoken understanding, if you will.

 
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