All Mine Ch. 03: Mi Casa
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Alright. This time, thanks for the negative feedback from last time. I took it all on board, and implemented a few of the fixes you requested. Some asked me to straight up change my writing style, but I didn’t, so sorry! Also, sorry for the considerable lag between stories. ALSO, sorry that the sexual content comes mostly at the end. Wanted to build some character. All that said, if you enjoy it, enjoy!
Melinda finally regained her senses, rolling down her top and lifting her seat up. As she adjusted her pants, doubt began to set in. As astonishing as the sex had been, she thought quietly to herself, giving the driver a glance.
The moment Anne had gotten in the car, she’d ravished Melinda beyond rational thought, and it had been truly remarkable. The inexperienced redhead had never even considered her feelings for women. She never even put much thought into her sexuality. The product of a conservative household, her parents had set her up with men as long as she could remember, but those relationships all failed. She got tired of them, and the sex was always a chore. The moment she moved out, she became a recluse. Buried in her work, the echo-chamber of a few friends, and repulsed by the advances of men who were in some cases dashing, she had cut sex and romance out of her life.
Even when she masturbated she didn’t think about people. She just focused on the stimulation of her buzzing little friend, or on occasion her own hand. But now, when she looked at the driver’s seat, and observed the black haired, well built goddess who had the wheel, she felt completely and totally sprung.
Her attitude, her looks, the way her exercise clothes clung to her smooth, tan frame. Everything about her made Melinda want to pull the woman on top of her and go for a second round.
It horrified her. Melinda turned her eyes towards the dark, winding road in front of her Volkswagen and considered the following;
*Am I gay?*
“Well, we’re here.” Anne smirked as she pulled into the driveway behind her black car. She expected Melinda to be impressed by the house, and turned a cocky grin towards her.
Instead, Melinda was gripping the dashboard, a terrified look on her face as she breathed ragged breaths. “Whoa. Are you okay?” Melinda put a hand in front of her face as she trembled. She felt dizzy, and her muscles went tense as she struggled for air. “Hey. Melinda.” Anne snapped her fingers, but the redhead didn’t respond, biting her thumbnail. Anne quickly stopped the car and moved around it to the passenger side. The raven haired-woman allowed herself a quick curse before opening the door and reaching around Melinda to unbuckle the seat-belt.
“Hey,” Anne kept her voice soft and caring, curling her words pleasantly. “Hey. It’s alright.” Melinda choked out a quick sob, and Anne rubbed her back gently. “Come inside. C’mon.” The taller woman helped Melinda to her feet, and supported her with a hand around her waist. Melinda followed, taking uneven steps as her breathing intensified. “That’s it. Come on.”
Anne unerringly slid her key into the door and walked Melinda into the house, flicking on the lights. Footfalls clicked against tile as Melinda was led through the large entryway and into the sitting room, where Anne sat her down. She was breathing more evenly now, but Anne knew she wasn’t quite out of the woods yet. “That’s right. Settle. Breathe.” The dark-haired woman didn’t falter in the slightest, remaining calm and supportive as she sat beside the redhead, stroking her back, then brushing back her hair.
“Let me get you some water.” Anne stood up, leaving Melinda sitting on the couch. Melinda wiped a hand down her face, still shaking. Anne was back quickly with a cold bottle of water. Melinda took it and drank, then took a deep breath. The room had nice, warm, even earth tones, the brown suede couch comfortably soft. Melinda leaned back, relaxing and collecting herself.
“You had an anxiety attack.” Anne reported the fact in a friendly manner. “You’re fine now. Feeling better?”
Melinda tried to choke out an affirmation, but couldn’t manage a word. Instead, she just shook her head. After a moment, she sat up, mustering the breath to speak. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can give you a ride home if you want.” Anne seemed rather relieved. Melinda stared at the bottle, tilting it from one side to another, then squeezing it, letting the water rise under the pressure of her hands. “Or, you could stay until you’re fine to drive.”
Melinda tilted her head, thinking. She’d missed what Anne said, not paying attention as the woman spoke. “…Do I seem gay?”
“Yeah.” Anne quickly reported.
“I don’t know. You just…do? I figured you were gay after seeing you a few times.” Anne shrugged her shoulders. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No. I just never thought about it.” Melinda began to chafe under the line of questioning. Something about saying it out loud made her feel smaller. Like her parents were glowering at her güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri in the back of her mind. “Never had an anxiety attack before.”
“My mom used to have them all the time.” Anne smiled, patting Melinda on the back. “She’s a bit like you. Short, dorky, a worrier, always avoiding people. She’s leveled out now, but I had my fair share of evenings getting her to calm down.”
Melinda nodded. She looked up to Anne. Even sitting, she felt like the woman towered over her. Statuesque and firm, Anne rubbed Melinda’s arm. “So, what do you want to do? I could give you a ride back to your house.”
The redhead didn’t particularly want to leave. She didn’t feel like being alone, but admitting it might make her seem needy. She went silent, taking a swig of water from the bottle.
“Or, you could stick around. I’ll make you something to eat.” Anne offered.
Melinda nodded. “Okay. Sure.” She tried to seem neutral, but she was relieved. Now that she was attentive, she noticed just how big the sitting was. The ceiling loomed at least seven meters overhead, with ceiling fans lazily turning. The coffee table in front of her was glass, with several books at one corner. “Is this your house?”
“Yup.” Anne stood up, stretching her back. “I’m gonna go change, then I’ll cook us something. You don’t seem like a kleptomaniac, so feel free to look around.” With that, Anne walked out of the room. Melinda heard footfalls going up stairs. She got up from the couch, holding her bottle of water, and began looking around.
It was a very spacious house indeed. Melinda looked through a window, brushing the blinds aside to see a small pool in the backyard. She couldn’t help but feel impressed. That feeling increased as she walked around. The kitchen was large and spotless. The dining room had a large wooden table. It was hard to believe Anne lived alone. Perhaps she had a roommate?
Melinda jumped at a sudden sound behind her, discovering Anne’s “roommate” of sorts. A short haired, tortoiseshell cat walked into the room, inspecting Anne with his green eyes. He slunk up to the redhead, and pushed against her leg, rubbing up to her. Melinda bent down and stroked his head. The cat seemed pleased with the attention, and continued onward. Melinda followed the cat absentmindedly, as if the animal were giving her a tour.
The cat turned and called out again with a bored *”meow”* as Melinda followed, looking around. Soon, the animal walked through an open door, which Melinda peeked through. The curious redhead saw a carpeted staircase, and the cat’s tail rounding the corner. She walked down the stairs, and found a mildly interesting sight. An Everlast punching bag, a treadmill, and a weight bench. The room was a rather large home gym, with a small cat tree in the corner. The green eyed, brown and black cat was sitting on the black bench, staring at the wall.
“Huh.” Melinda murmured. She smelled something cooking, and went back upstairs. Now fancying herself a gumshoe of sorts, Melinda knew Anne was in the kitchen, preparing something. Perhaps she could get a glimpse at Anne’s bedroom. She needed to know more about Anne, and asking seemed an awkward way to go about it. She moved up the stairs, trying to keep quiet.
Whatever Anne was cooking smelled marvelous, but Melinda fought back the urge to peek into the kitchen. She walked quickly up the stairs, and began looking around. The hall had a few doors. One was clearly the bedroom. There was a guest room with modest furnishings, a chair, a desk, and a queen sized bed. Another room appeared to be an office, with bookshelves, a desktop PC, and a plastic trash bin full of crumpled papers and tissues. Anne’s bedroom called out to Melinda (in more ways than one). Melinda swallowed hard, and slipped into the room to continue her investigation.
It was a bit messy, but otherwise nothing seemed amiss. Melinda heard the drips of Anne’s shower head.
*Okay. I’ll only look at what’s in the open.*
Melinda drew the line there. Anne had the grace to help her through an anxiety attack; the redhead owed her at least that much courtesy.
Melinda found something rather alarming; a gun on the nightstand. A black Walther PPK handgun, Melinda immediately recognized the pistol from a James Bond movie she’d seen with a friend earlier in the week. Thought it worried her a little to see it sitting in plain sight, the air of danger turned her on a bit. She could imagine Anne as a spy in a black suit, squeezing off rounds at Russians with a woman on her arm.
As she milled about, Melinda stepped on something that slipped under her foot. She lifted her shoe and clumsily stepped away, looking down a the magazine she’d just crumpled. It was an issue of Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition. Melinda sneered at the picture of Kate Upton on the cover. At least now she knew Anne’s type; women with big breasts and tight waists.
“MELINDA! FOOD’S READY!” Anne’s commanding voice sent a shiver up her spine. Melinda immediately güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri power walked out of Anne’s room, quietly adjusting the door to the exact angle it had been before she entered, and walking quickly down the stairs. Anne stood at the bottom of the staircase, arms folded. “Find what you were looking for?”
“Just checking out the guest room.” Melinda was poor at a lot of things, but she was a fantastic liar. Despite her well practiced mendacity, Anne gave her a narrow eyed look.
“Come down here,” Anne said. Melinda walked down the stairs until she was at eye level with the tan skinned host. Anne reached out, grabbing Melinda’s waist and lifting her off the stairs. Melinda, startled, was placed on the floor where Anne stood. No longer eye level, Melinda looked at her feet as Anne smirked, towering over her. Anne knew the redhead was lying; she rather fancied the feeling. Power. Melinda looked nice and submissive again. “C’mon. I cooked us something.”
Leading Melinda by the hand, Anne stepped into the dining room. Several plates were set out. Each setting had three plates; one with salad, one with white strips of food with light brown sauce that Melinda didn’t recognize, and the last was a lamb shank with black shavings. The smell was appetizing. Anne pulled out Melinda’s chair, and she sat in it. Sitting beside her at the head of the table, Anne watched as Melinda ate her salad. Melinda finished it quickly, but it was very good. She moved on to the dish that she didn’t recognize.
“It’s a light geoduck carpaccio.” Anne said proudly. Melinda didn’t understand either word; she grew up in a house where meatloaf was the main dish. As the redhead turned questioningly to Anne, the woman sighed and put it more simply. “It’s a big clam. I cleaned it and cut it up.” Melinda took exception to the way Anne talked down to her a bit, but decided not to make a big deal about it. She hadn’t won a single confrontation with Anne yet, and couldn’t see herself doing so in the future.
Melinda took one of the strips of wilted, white meat on her fork, and popped it into her mouth. It had a delightful taste. All Anne had done was rub a tiny twist of lemon and drizzle some soy sauce. Melinda ate each slice slowly, as Anne began her dinner. Soon, Melinda moved on to the main course, cutting a piece of lamb and putting it in her mouth.
She freckled slightly at it. “It’s a little too spicy,” Melinda complained. Before she could take another bite, Anne took her plate of geoduck and passed it over to Melinda.
“Here. I’ll eat it, and you can have this.” Melinda felt bad complaining about Anne’s cooking, but the raven haired woman didn’t seem to take it too badly. She smiled at Melinda, who was overjoyed to have more of the strange clam dish. Anne ate her lamb shank and quarter of Melinda’s before she was finished. “I guess you don’t like spicy stuff. I’ll remember that.” The two ate in comfortable silence. Melinda finished, but didn’t have anything to say. She leaned against the table, thinking as she stole the occasional glance at her host.
She remembered a quote from one of her many favorite movies, *Pulp Fiction.*
*”That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.”*
Melinda assessed herself. She felt perfectly fine not saying anything at the moment. What that meant for her, she didn’t know. But, if Mia Wallace was to be trusted, it meant that Melinda didn’t go far wrong by coming home with Anne.
Not that she had much of a choice.
“So,” Anne asked. “What are you, bi? Curious? You didn’t put up much of a fight in the locker room.” The woman smiled, leaning forward on the table. Melinda drank her drink, not answering the question. “You can’t just stonewall me when I ask you something. Say you won’t answer, or answer. I hate when you go quiet.”
“Well sorry.” Melinda’s voice was rather sarcastic. Anne groaned, but kept a pleasant, if exasperated expression. “…I don’t think I’m straight. Either that, or the men I’ve met aren’t good at sex.”
“Huh.” Anne, satisfied with the answer, nodded.
“Plus, I *did* put up a fight. You’re just a head taller than me and way stronger. It was like fighting a gender swapped Mister Reach.” Melinda rolled her eyes, taking another sip of water. She was pushing it a little; she knew damn well that Anne was in control of the situation, but it felt good to fire back a bit. Anne seemed to enjoy it when Melinda got short with her.
“Funny.” Anne grinned in a rather sinister manner, her eyes flicking up and down Melinda’s body. The redhead defensively folded her arms and crossed her legs, knowing that Anne was undressing her with her eyes, considering ways to make Melinda pay for the barb. Leaning back, Anne asked another question. “What do you do for a living?”
“I work at a library. I enter things into the system, and I sort stuff.”
“Redheaded librarian. Go figure.” Anne shrugged her shoulders, a satisfied, respectful güvenilir bahis şirketleri look on her face. “Do you have a boyfriend now?”
“No,” Melinda shrank back a little under Anne’s stare. The black haired woman was putting something together in her head; Melinda could see the gears turning. She leaned forward and made a life-changing offer.
“You don’t like going to the gym. How about you use my home gym instead? I can put you on a work-out plan that’ll keep you in shape. I’ve even got a pool you can swim laps in. That way, you can stop wasting money going to that place late at night.” Anne clapped her hands together.
“And what do *you* get out of this?” Melinda already knew the answer, but wanted to see what excuse Anne would come up with to keep her around.
“That’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Anne matter-of-factly laid out the gospel truth. “You come to my house every other day of the week. I want more of what we did in the car.”
Melinda turned bright red, her eyes widening. Wow. Anne had cut right to the heart of the matter. “You’re just my type. It’d basically be sex on tap.” Anne leaned in, and Melinda leaned back. The redhead was intimidated for sure, but frankly she was bristling a the thought. “You come out of the pool, exhausted, I give you a deep tissue massage, and when you’re relaxed and face down, I crawl on top of you, pull your ass up and keep your head pushed down while I-“
“Stooooooooop. Jesus.” The redhead wiped her nose, hiding the growing blush on her cheeks. Anne certainly had a way with words; if she went on with that kind of talk, Melinda feared she’d be the first woman in a hundred-odd years to actually come down with the vapors.
As Melinda tried to clear her head, Anne stood up, and started towards her. Melinda saw a look in the woman’s eye. She intended to go on the attack. Before the buxom redhead could move from her chair, Anne grasped her upper arms and kissed her on the mouth. Melinda released a muffled squeal, but Anne didn’t relent, leaning the redhead’s chair back as she kicked her legs. Suddenly, Melinda was lifted out of the seat and slung over Anne’s shoulder, the chair clapping against the ground as Anne walked out of the room.
The cat matched Anne’s stride. “Don’t follow us, Artie.” Anne chided the cat, who meowed loudly in response. Melinda watched as the cat quickly branched off, trotting the other way and leaving his master to her business. Melinda was taken up the stairs. She put her hands on the small of Anne’s back as she walked to reduce the constant bouncing.
“Put me down.” Melinda tried to sound stern, but her voice came out as an embarrassed giggle. Her host ignored the plea. On the contrary, Anne gave Melinda a few triumphant slaps on the ass; gentle, but the act itself made Melinda yelp with surprise.
“You wanted to see my room, right?” Anne smirked as she pushed the door open, and tossed Melinda onto the bed. She landed on her back and sat up. The moment Melinda hit the bed, Anne began stripping. She yanked her pants down. No underwear. Her pants dropped down her toned legs revealing her pussy. Shaven and tight, Melinda stared down at it for a moment, as Anne smiled and yanked her shirt over her head, bearing her chest and leaving herself completely bare. Her breasts were on the smaller end of the spectrum, medium sized B cups with perky, light brown nipples. Melinda was honestly more interested in her build; she was absolutely stunning; tall, tan, and strong. Melinda was rendered speechless at the sight.
Anne didn’t give Melinda long to look. She pounced, and pushed the redhead onto her back with one hand. Her mouth went to Melinda’s throat. The redhead was a sucker for gentle stuff; Anne would have to work her into the deep end gradually. For now, she focused on getting Melinda hooked.
Reaching up the back of Melinda’s shirt, Anne grasped the clasp of Melinda’s bra with one hand, unhooking it. Melinda gasped as she felt her bra go loose, as Anne unbuttoned her shirt quickly. Her mouth never slowed, kissing down Melinda’s neck to her exposed collarbone. She opened Melinda’s shirt and grasped her bra, tossing it over her shoulder and onto the floor. Before she could get a good look at Melinda’s breasts, the girl put a hand over each breast. As aroused as she was, she had always been self conscious about her chest. Melinda managed to sit up as Anne knelt at the foot of the bed. “…I think we should slow down,” Melinda murmured, catching her breath.
Anne said nothing. Instead, she smiled impishly, grasping Melinda’s hands and moving them close, pushing Melinda’s breasts together. “Hey!” Melinda reached out to grab Anne’s shoulders. A big mistake; Anne placed her hands on Melinda’s breasts, admiring the size and feel. They were certainly a good pair. Melinda, partially annoyed and partially into it, grabbed Anne’s wrists as the raven haired woman pushed her back onto the bed.
Wrapping her arms around the smaller woman, Anne kissed down Melinda’s body. Stopping at her chest, Anne flicked one of Melinda’s nipples with her tongue. It was easy to remember how sensitive they were; they prompted an orgasm in the car. Anne took one in her mouth and sucked, and Melinda shuddered. If she was hesitant before, Melinda was on-board now. She stayed on the bed as Anne moved lower, kissing and nipping down her stomach.
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