Date: Mon, 11 Sep 2006 21:07:10 +0100 (BST)
From: sam c <sam_c02uk@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: The Queen's Head - part 2

This is a work of fiction.  Any similarity to anyone, anywhere,
anywhen is purely coincidental.

This story involves sex between adult females.  If that's not
your thing, or if it is illegal in any way, then stop reading.
Otherwise, enjoy!

----------------------------------------------------------------

      I wrapped my leather jacket tighter around my chest as my steps
took me up the final hill of my walk.  The days had been drawing
shorter for a couple of months now and I felt the beginnings of a
biting chill in the air.  Though I enjoyed the warmth of the long,
summer evenings it was with a sigh of relief that I welcomed the
autumn, for autumn soon gave way to winter, the season of warm log
fires and romantic liaisons in the snow.  But that was a while away,
and the steep path leading up to the church was as yet ice-free.

      It had become a ritual of mine of late, to visit the church and
take a moment's solace before resuming my evening plans.  Four
hundred years old and still going strong, the church boasted a tall spire
and huge but simple stained-glass windows depicting various bible
scenes.  Moss grew around the stones at the foot of the outside walls
and many surrounding tombstones, a sign that time marched onwards
regardless of what stood in its path.  I entered the church and
immediately felt a calmness descend over me.  I am not in the least bit
religious, yet I felt something each time I visited this holy place.
Perhaps it was the stunning architecture or the sight of the impressive
church organ that dominated one wall.  I settled myself in a pew and
considered what I had done that day, and what I may yet do...

	"Hi Chris, what'll it be tonight, eh?" asked Neil, the only male
member of the bar staff at the Queen's Head.  We had struck up a kind
of kinship, for he had made it clear that he knew I was interested in
women and I had implied that I had an idea of his feelings towards
men.  It was an understanding that we both shared and kept to
ourselves, for which I was grateful.
	"Oh, just a pint, please.  God, it's getting cold out there now," I
added, rubbing my hands together to warm my numb fingers.  I
gratefully accepted my drink and scanned the length of the tavern.
There were few other patrons in tonight, just a drab collection of
regulars in their usual places.  I nodded to them, for many now knew
me by name, and took up my favourite seat opposite the bar.  I knew
from experience that on a Wednesday the shift changed at 7pm, and it
was five to the hour now.  Silently I crossed my fingers, hoping to see
that black-haired head appear round the corner.  Neil looked over at
me as I watched, and I could have sworn I detected a slight wink
before he turned to greet his replacement.  It was indeed Hannah, and I
looked away with a sharp intake of breath, suddenly unable to even
cast a glance in that direction.
	"What the hell is wrong with me," I muttered to myself,
gripping my glass tightly and staring at the golden swirl of lager.
"You've been with girls, loads of them, she's no different.  Doesn't
know you from Adam, you great daft oik!"
I berated myself freely for a minute, cursing my shyness when it came
to matters of the heart.  I could waltz into a boardroom full of greying
men in suits and talk for England, yet speaking to an attractive young
woman seemed preposterously difficult.  I continued to sip my drink
and, every so often, risk a quick shufti towards the bar.

A log fire burned low in the grate -- so much for winter being far
away, I mused, stretching my feet towards the warmth.  There were
only five people remaining in the pub, the rest having shuffled home
hours ago.  I was nicely drunk. It was my day off tomorrow, so the
late hour did not worry me.  I looked around, mentally listing what I
knew about my companions.  Three were men in their sixties, no
doubt putting off the moment when their wives would scold them for
staying out late and drinking away their pension.  I believed their
names were Dave, Nigel and John, though I couldn't be sure.  Aside
from these, only myself and Hannah remained.  I stole a glance
towards her, tracing my gaze from her legs and muscular thighs up
over her stomach and breasts, hidden by the unflattering uniform, on
to her broad shoulders and finally her round yet strong features.  I had
learned that she played rugby until recently and enjoyed walking in
the surrounding countryside.  Suddenly she turned her face towards
me and our eyes met.  Hers were a deep royal blue, mesmerising to
look at, like she could see into my mind and soul.  Hannah smiled
briefly before continuing her game of cards with Nigel, or John,
whichever, I didn't care.

In the ladies' I stood before the mirror, breathing deeply.  I saw a
youngish-looking face staring back, a handsome face with a hint of a
boyish grin that fit well with my stocky, not particularly lady-like
figure. My hair was dark brown even after months of sunshine and
was naturally wavy.  Slightly longer than I like it, I could see the ends
of the fringe if I tugged it down over my eyes, and I resolved to have
it cut the following day.  I thought I was fairly attractive, but nobody
else seems to agree.  Not yet, anyhow.  I grinned at my reflection and
moved out into the tap room once again.  Having been gone only a
matter of minutes I was surprised to find my ageing companions gone,
with Hannah nowhere to be seen.  This was soon explained, for she
stood up from behind the bar where she had been replacing clean
glasses on dusty shelves.
	"Time to go home, Chris," she spoke softly, enunciating every
syllable with a gentle southern lilt that melted my heart for the
umpteenth time.  I picked up my glass and downed the rest of my
whisky in one.  Turning to go, a thought occurred to me and I paused,
looking back questioningly.
	"You know my name?" I asked even though that fact was
obvious.  She nodded, her eyes looking unwaveringly into mine.
	"Everyone does," she replied nonchalantly, waving one arm
slightly as though pointing to an invisible crowd of people who also
knew my name.  I shook my head, unable to remember in my
befuddled state exactly who was aware of my name, and how.

	"Night, Hannah," I finally answered, and stumbled out of the
side door, the front having been locked up hours ago.  The night was
dark and cold, stars poking out from the blackness above -- a sure sign
of the frost to come.  I set off walking and had reached the main road
when I heard quick footsteps behind me and felt a hand on my
shoulder.
	"You forgot your scarf," Hannah said breathlessly, pressing my
blue-and-white University scarf into my hands.  Her fingers brushed
mine and I felt a tingle spread up my arm.  She gasped and pulled her
hand away, and with a nod of the head she was gone.

      That night my dreams were twisted, disjointed parodies of
reality, filled with impossibilities.  I imagined Hannah and I making
love in the church, me with a sleek strap-on thrusting into her tight
hole as she leaned backward over a chorister's bench.  She was
panting, begging for more until I was reeling with my own orgasm,
the stimulation of my clitoris increasing each time I entered her,
shaking from pleasure yet not wanting to stop until she had reached
her climax.  The dream became wilder as I found myself on my knees
in a room resembling the office I worked in, grasping Hannah's
buttocks tightly to hold her still whilst I expertly licked her clit,
causing her to shout m, shaking from pleasure yet not wanting to stop
until she had reached her climax.  The dream became wilder as I
found myself on my knees in a room resembling the office I worked
in, grasping Hannah's buttocks tightly to hold her still whilst I
expertly licked her clit, causing her to shout my name over and over,
bucking and writhing in my grasp as I slipped two fingers inside her
and massaged that sweet spot.

      I awoke dripping with sweat, a wetness between my legs. I
could feel my slit burning and my swollen clit throbbing with the
tension awakened in my dream.  I barely touched myself with one
finger before a fiery wave of orgasm after orgasm overtook me, my
legs kicking out wildly as involuntary spasms coursed through my
whole body.  If only I could be with Hannah instead of dreaming
about it, life would be truly perfect.  I vowed that the next time I saw
her would be the day I would sweep her off her feet, one way or
another.

***************************************************

The following morning I was up with the lark.  Actually, I think I was
earlier than the lark, for I heard no bird-song as I walked to my car
past the line of trees separating my driveway from the road.  The sun
was barely poking over the horizon, explaining the slight frost that
still lingered on the surrounding gardens. My thinking was this -- the
earlier I started work, the earlier I finished and therefore the earlier I
would walk into the Queen's Head this evening.  My new waterproof
vibrator proved a great success in the shower, so much so that I had to
wash my private parts several times to remove all traces of my early-
morning activities.

I swiped the automatic door-lock and pushed the front door open,
managing to slip in just as it swung back towards me.  Obviously a
burglar deterrent, I thought, for if you don't get out of the way
sharpish it could easily trap any number of body parts.  Throwing the
cursed door a murderous look I proceeded to the office.  When I got
there I paused, for despite the ungodly hour I could hear a voice on the
other side of the office door.  Straining my ears I listened breathlessly.

	"Mmmm, that's good, honey, now take off your bra...that's it,
my girl, ohhhh yessssss..."
It was a man's voice, unrecognisable as yet, and I listened for more.
	"Looking good, look at those tight ones with their tiny nipples, I
just want to suck them, yeah baby...give me more, go on, those
knickers look awfully tight, mmm, that's right..."

I pushed open the door just a crack and was taken aback.  Dave
("Boring Dave") had his back to me and was facing his computer
screen, with headphones over his ears and his trousers and underpants
around his ankles.  The movement of his right hand left nothing to the
imagination -- he was wanking off, no doubt about it.
	"Ohhh, what a lovely crack, open it wider for me sweetie, a
little more, I want to see everything.  Put your finger in, fuck yourself
with it, baby, faster, just like that, ooohhhh..."
Dave's arm was moving faster, his breathing coming in short gasps
now as he neared the end.  He carried on talking in the same manner,
presumably to a woman on a webcam, for there was nobody else in
sight.  Finally, with a moan, he jerked in his chair and turned slightly,
giving me a full view of his ejaculation as white fluid spurted from his
thick, dark cock.  Exhausted, he flopped back in the seat and tore the
headphones from his ears.  Not knowing what else to do, I closed the
door silently and retreated to the canteen where I made a coffee and
sat for half an hour, pondering over the hidden depths of my
colleague's behaviour.  What on Earth was the world coming to, I
wondered, excusing my own pun.  Not that I was prudish in these
matters but, well, this was a workplace, full of expensive computer
equipment that could easily be damaged by such frivolity.  I vowed
never to touch anyone else's keyboard again, ever.

I said nothing to Dave all day, only a brief goodbye as I left at four
o'clock.  He shot me a quizzical look, obviously the thought having
crossed his mind that I must have been here early in order to leave at
that time, but I smiled and left him wondering.  All the way home I
was rehearsing what I planned to say to Hannah, but each time I ran
though a scene it ended with me stroking her cheek and planting a kiss
lightly on her lips, so I gave up.  Things never went to plan for me
anyway, apart from when I envisaged a worst-case scenario, and I
wasn't going to tempt fate by even considering what this might be.
Possibly it may involve fire and the police, I mused as I swung my car
into the small car park next to the flats.

Passing on another shower (it would have taken quite a while) I got
changed, putting on casual black jeans and a dark blue shirt, my trusty
leather jacket over the top.  I would be freezing on the way to the pub
but I didn't care.  Just as I left the flat, my mobile phone rang
unexpectedly.  No number was displayed to show the identity of the
caller.
	"Hello?" I answered pleasantly, and was pleased to hear the
reply.
	"Hello my dear, and how are you this fine evening?" It was my
best friend, Adam, who had recently moved to this general area
though still a fair way away.  I grinned.
	"Great, thanks, and you? How's the work there?"
	"Oh, you know, I suffer in silence." Adam was a vet, currently
working as a locum in a fairly quiet rural practice. He had fewer
working hours than I did, no nights on-call and two days off each
week.  "Anyway, I have tomorrow and Saturday off so I thought I
might come over your way if that's ok with you."
	"Yes, of course, what time do you think you'll get here," I said,
checking my watch.  It was ten past five.
	"Look across the road," came the reply.  I obliged and saw an
excited-looking Adam waving frantically at me from a hundred yards
away.
	"Coooo-eeeeeee!" he yelled, and I could hear him both through
my phone and down the street.  Grinning, I snapped my phone shut
and strode over to join him.  We hugged warmly, for it had been
months since we last parted company, though we remained close
friends.  Purely platonic of course, but very close.
I let go and laughed.  What a surprise, a very welcome one.
Adam slung one arm around me as we set off up the hill.
	"Well, where are we going, young lady," he asked teasingly,
nudging me with his elbow. I pushed him away in amused annoyance.
	"Pub, the Queen's Head," I replied, "the food is good, beer
lovely but a bit pricey. The staff are...interesting".  I refused to say
any more despite Adam's questioning, and soon we were entering
through the heavy oak doors leading into the tap room.

Hannah looked up at me from behind the bar, half-smiled, then looked
away.  Adam marched straight up to the bar where she stood waiting
and ordered two pints of bitter without pause.  It's ok for him, I
thought, he's not in love with this woman.  I sighed and wandered
over to my table, discarding my jacket as the fire warmed my hands
and feet. My friend joined me, clutching two pints of a dark beer and
with a packet of dry-roasted peanuts between his teeth. I grimaced in
disgust as I wiped the soggy packet and opened it.
	"She's a miserable one," Adam noted, poking his thumb back
towards the woman of my dreams.  I gulped down several mouthfuls
of the cold liquid before I could speak.  I shook my head, and Adam
waited, head cocked to one side.  I told the whole story of my
encounters with Hannah, my interest in her ("obsession," said Adam
pointedly) and my failed attempt to engage her in conversation,
ending with the scarf episode of the previous night.

	"That's the most promising one yet," agreed Adam, looking
round for the umpteenth time despite me constantly saying "Don't
look now!".
	"I mean, she followed you out of here into the freezing cold
without a coat on, when she would have known full well that you
would be back in here pretty soon.  And she keeps looking this way
too," he added playfully, prodding my arm.
I scowled at him but couldn't resist taking a peek at the bar.  Hannah
was nowhere to be seen.  But the night was young, I had the
confidence brought on by being with a good friend and courage of the
Dutch variety.  Fate was on my side, at last.

----------------------------------------------------

If you like what you've read, email me, sam_c02uk@yahoo.co.uk
If you don't, also email me, bearing in mind that I'm not a professional
writer.
Cheers!