Chapter Three: Familiar Strangers
A furious gust of wind buffeted Michiru's back while she extracted her keys from her bag. She shuddered when the blast hit her, only to go still when she felt that new but already deliciously familiar warmth of the blonde's tall frame behind her. She could no longer feel the wind and she realized that there was a purpose to the woman's act-Michiru was being protected from the typhoon's fury. Flames ignited in her cheeks and in her lower belly. Didn't this stranger realize what her actions caused within Michiru? Was the blonde doing it on purpose? Michiru bit her lips as the stranger moved in closer, she wanted to turn and catch a glance of the woman's face. Not being able to see the woman caused a flash of nervousness accompanied by the unnameable emotion she felt when they stood talking in the rain. Her long, delicate and artful fingers suddenly felt clumsy as she pushed the key into the lock.
Since she arrived in the city for school five months ago Michiru had not invited any of her friends over to her second floor apartment. She did not like the notion of inviting just anyone into her private space and yet here she was with a stranger standing at the door to her home. A very cute stranger, but still a stranger. Just what was she doing? Following your instincts. The idea manifested itself and she pounced on it, readily agreeing. The magnetic attraction she felt the moment she locked her gaze onto the blonde's convinced her to persuade the woman to follow her home. Long callused fingers brushed past hers and gently took the keys from her hands. A tingling heat unlike anything she had ever felt before blossomed immediately on the skin which was lightly grazed and she almost moaned out loud from the sensation.
"You're taking too long," the low, impatient tone came from over her shoulder, winding its way into her ears, up into her brain and triggering a primal impulse inside of her. Michiru did not hear the words: she only heard the honey-whisky huskiness, the almost undetected vibrations from the intonations issuing past the woman's lips.
As a direct result her entire body felt too sensitive. The blonde turned the key and pushed the door open ahead of Michiru. She saw the flight of stairs heading up to her apartment and began to move forward, the stranger's body heat remaining close. She stopped in the tiny foyer, a small square of space where she typically removed her footwear before ascending the stairs.
Today was different, however;the moment the tall blonde closed the door behind her and muted the typhoon Michiru was upon the woman. One moment she was glancing up the stairs and the next Michiru's hands were grabbing onto the strong shoulders of the woman, their lips pressed together with an urgency that shocked her. At first the woman stood still but quickly took control when Michiru's fingers traveled up to the nape of the tall woman's neck and slipped through the wet blonde strands that nestled there. The bag and tube case the art student carried fell at their feet forgotten.
Michiru practically purred when she felt the hands of the stranger glide down her shoulder to her waist. Her wet dress did nothing to ward off the heat she felt from the palms resting on her waist. Firm but soft lips caressed her own and her lids drifted closed over blue eyes swirling with arousal. Every move was instinctive. Michiru was struck with the sensation of living her entire eighteen years while lacking something only to be ambushed by feelings and emotions she had not known she craved. It was if they already knew each others' bodies from a previous life.
The stranger reversed their positions, pinning Michiru to the door. Their mouths parted and Michiru gasped for air while her grip tightened in the woman's hair. Her eyes roved over the blonde's face taking in every nuance expressed. She could see-could feel the difficulty with which the woman was breathing. The art student was trapped, her body caught between the cool door and the contrasting heated body of the stranger. She shivered as their gazes caught, eyes the color of ocean depths staring into deep navy.
The stranger opened her mouth once as if to speak, closed it and lowered her head instead. Michiru tilted her own head up in response, eager for the taste of the woman's lips. They collided in the most pleasant way, melting into each other in an effort to get closer and closer still. The stranger's hands slid from Michiru's small waist down her rear and the art student reacted accordingly, wrapping her legs around the blonde's hips when she was lifted upwards.
The woman chose that moment to press against her very core and Michiru felt a shock of pleasure in her lower parts. Her dress had hiked up when she wrapped her legs around the woman's waist, and the wet jeans of the stranger grazed the insides of her thighs; she shivered anew from the feeling it elicited. Michiru's eyes drifted closed when she felt a pair of warm lips caress the underside of her jaw.
She moaned out loud and it echoed in the space of the stairwell. The sound of it was highly erotic-she had never made such a sound before. It took a moment to sink in that she made such a noise due to the fact that she was in a very compromising situation with a woman whose name she did not even know. Her eyes flashed open as the realization hit and her senses returned.
"Wait-" she drew a breath, "wait a moment...uh..." Embarrassment struck her and her already pink face was flooded with ruddy crimson. Heads inches apart, Michiru could see her words had an immediate effect on the other woman, her rush of arousal seemed to visibly abate. Michiru already missed the tornado of need that had been reflected in those navy eyes.
"Ha-" came the croak before the woman cleared her throat and tried again, "Haruka Tenoh." The unasked question-And you?-was obvious on the blonde's flushed face. Beneath the surface of her visage an even more important question was being asked – what just happened?
"Michiru," the art student offered as the bottoms of her feet came to rest on the floor again. Haruka had lowered her gently as she spoke then stepped backwards. Michiru wondered why, wondered if the blonde did it to instill a sense of calm between them; then she remembered she inadvertently halted their activity by speaking. Her gaze swept down the woman's length, lingering on the blonde's mouth and hands. Michiru's own lips felt bruised and sensitive, tingling in a most sensual way.
She tore her eyes away and focused on the stairs, "We should head upstairs and get out of these wet things."
Michiru's eyes darted back to Haruka's eyes the moment she realized what she said. Haruka's expression was inscrutable, the blonde's body rigid. At the sight the art student felt an involuntary smirk growing on her lips and the tall woman's own tightened into a straight line the moment the smirk was spotted. To think she had the power to unravel the woman's restraint was a great stroke to Michiru's ego. It delighted her immensely to know she was not the only one feeling rather weak in the knees from desire.
Michiru ducked her head and walked past the woman but not before picking up the previously forgotten items on the floor. "Please come in," she tried her damnedest to keep the playful tone to a minimum, then turned and walked up the stairs.
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