Chapter 2

I must have fallen asleep before Marissa returned, because the first thing I remember was waking up again.

The room was dim, and as I looked across to the window I realized it was night. I lay still again in the bed, listening to the sounds around me; the crackling of the fire, the whistling of the wind outside, and the purr of Tom the kitten.

I looked across to the side of the bed, expecting to see Tom sitting there somewhere, watching me, wondering if he was about to walk on my face again. Tom was there alright, but he was purring because his ears were being tickled. And Marissa was doing the tickling.

She hadn't noticed me moving, so I lay and watched for a bit longer. Marissa was quietly stroking Tom, and he was responding as only cats can. He pushed his head hard into her hand, encouraging her ministrations, pressing into her soft flesh for his own pleasure. Suddenly Tom caught my eye, and returned my stare. Certain now that I was awake, he rudely ignored Marissa's searching fingers, and walked across from her lap to the blanket under which I slept. Reaching my motionless face, he put a careful paw up and pushed it against my forehead. I held my head still, and he lifted his other front paw to persuade me. Unable to resist any more, I let my head tip back, and laughed, as he collapsed on the bed in front of me. His minimal forbearance exhausted at that point, he swung around and jumped from the bed, heading for the fire.

I turned to look at Marissa again, and she was chuckling as well, but as we both recovered from Tom's comedy show, I realised she was also shivering. Feeling awfully guilty suddenly, I spoke finally.

"Oh, Marissa, you're cold."

"Oh, no, I'm alright Hail, really."

"Nonsense. Look... can't we share the blanket? It's not right..."

"Oh, I couldn't Hail. You are ill."

"You're afraid of catching something?"

"No, it's not that..."

"Well?"

"I am supposed to be watching over you."

"Well, watch over me from here."

"There?"

"Hop under the blanket. There's plenty, and I'm warm as toast. Really."

"You're sure?"

"Of course."

"What about..."

"What Marissa?"

"... well, you are..."

"Yes?"

"... naked, Hail."

"Oh. I forgot about that."

"Yes."

"But..."

"What Hail?"

"Well, you already saw... well, you know... before."

"Yes."

"So, well, stop that, and just get in here."

"I could..."

"What?"

"Keep the robe on. If you want."

"Marissa, I'm not shy, really I'm not. Keep it, or lose it, I don't care."

"Really?"

"Really."

"But if the Mother Superior finds out..."

"I won't tell."

"The door..."

"Has a lock presumably. Yes?"

"Yes."

"So lock it, and get in here. Marissa, I'm getting cold just watching you shiver."

"I will."

"Good."

"But first, can I get you anything?"

"Huh?"

"A drink maybe?"

"Just get in!"

She smiled then, the way she had when she caught me earlier, and jumped up from the chair. She moved as if on tip-toe, though she wasn't, her movements as gentle as her fingers were with Tom.

Locking the door, and leaving the key in it, she walked unhurriedly to the fireplace, turned to a chair, and undid her robe. Her back was toward me, and her skin looked warm and brown in the light from the fire as her robe fell from her body. She dumped it quickly then, and turned to me in the firelight. Slipping out of her dainty shoes next, she skipped lightly across to me, her breasts bouncing in the fire's flicker.

Marissa's blonde hair was a study in contrast with my own, and I realized how much easier it was to see her in the dim light of the room than it would have been to see myself. My view was cut short however, as she reached the bed, and I lifted the cover so she could dive quickly underneath.

I was right, she was cold. Very. I shivered with the contact as she snuggled down in front of me, her back and buttocks pressed firmly to my front, her long hair just in front of my face. I lay very still, scared to move, not wanting to admit quite how cold she felt, not wanting her to move away from me, despite the discomfort. As we lay there, her temperature slowly increased, and after a while, we fed heat to each other, and the environment under the blankets became a little more bearable, then comfortable, then pleasantly warm, safe, still, and drowsy. I did exactly what you probably think. I went to sleep again. Yes, I did.

It was her breath that woke me. We had both turned in our sleep, and Marissa was close and warm behind me. I could feel her breasts pressed against my back, the swell of her pubic mound on my butt. One of her legs was draped carelessly over mine, and her upper arm was tucked under mine. I realised suddenly that her hand was gently cupping my breast, her fingers almost still as she slept, the firm hold reassuring somehow, the contact welcome. I'd never slept with another girl before, and didn't know quite what to expect, but surely not this languorous gentle innocent warmth.

My thoughts were anything but innocent after that. I concentrated on the small amount of movement her body made as she breathed, and felt the rhythmic movements of her hand on my breast as well. Her legs moved too, but it was her hand that interested me most.

I lay still and willed my body to feel all the points of contact, and I could detect a sort of ripple as her breathing moved her body, and the contact with mine moved as a result. A tiny change in pressure that started where our legs touched, floated up my back, and down, with a tiny but frustrating delay, along her arm, and into her hand. As Marissa breathed out past my neck, her fingers pulled delicately at my breast, tiny girl-skin textures across my nipple. The peaceful tug on my nerves was enticing, exciting, enthralling, and my nipple responded. I could feel it hardening under the delicate touch, expanding in the warmth under the blankets, increasing the friction against Marissa's fingers.

I couldn't believe how excited I was getting, and lay very still, savouring the arousal, enjoying the journey, and not thinking about where it was going. That is, until Marissa's breathing pattern changed in a subtle way, and a quiet voice whispered behind me. "Hail, you're awake, aren't you?"

I tried to ignore the voice, and concentrate on the feeling, but she asked again, and I had to answer. "Yes Marissa, kind of."

"Mmmm... I thought so."

"I... umm... was just lying here."

"Yep. Tell me Hail, what were you thinking about?"

"Thinking? Well, I wasn't really. Just, umm... feeling."

"Feeling? Feeling what?"

I hesitated then. After all, I hardly knew her, and this was so strange to me. Eventually, I found the courage to answer: "You," I whispered.

"Oh. Hail?"

"Uh huh."

"Have you ever..."

"What?"

"You know, Hail."

"No Marissa. I haven't. Not... not with a girl."