Chapter 2: The Unseen Touch
The air held its breath after Ava’s confession. The sun seemed to beat down with a new intensity, a silent accomplice. Jess’s giggle faded into a curious silence, her eyes wide. Ava didn’t look away from the vague direction of the pergola. She let the statement hang, a ripe, heavy fruit waiting to be plucked.
“Wait,” Jess finally said, rolling onto her stomach, her chin in her hands. “You seduced her? The ice queen? How the hell does that even work? Did you, like, annotate her syllabus?”
Ava’s smile deepened. She could feel Lottie’s attention like a physical weight, a laser point between her shoulder blades. She stretched, a long, luxurious unfolding of limbs that made her joints pop softly. “It’s all about reading the subtext,” she said, her voice dropping into that confidential, storytelling tone. “She’d stay late after seminar, always finding a reason to talk about imagery or metaphor. Her hands would shake when she handed back my papers. It was fucking adorable.”
She paused, letting the image settle. A bee droned past the bougainvillea. “One night, it was just us in the department lounge. Rainy. Cliché as shit. She was going on about Virginia Woolf, about the unsaid desires between women in her work. And I just… stopped her. Put my hand on her arm. Right there, on her little wool sleeve.” Ava demonstrated, placing her own hand on her own forearm, her touch feather-light. “I said, ‘Professor, I think you’re talking around something.’ She froze. Just stared at me. I could see her pulse hammering in her throat.”
Jess was utterly still, captivated. Lottie still pretending to read was listening avidly. She had never really thought of Jess or Ava as sexual beings, but of course they would be.
“And then?” Jess breathed.
“And then I kissed her.” Ava said it simply, like stating the time. “Just leaned in and put my mouth on hers. She tasted like Earl Grey and chalk dust. She made this tiny sound, like a whimper, and for a second she was stiff. Then her whole body just… melted. She kissed me back like she was starving for it. All that primness, that academic distance, it just vaporized.”
Ava shifted on her towel, the movement deliberately sensual. “I walked her back to her apartment. She didn’t say a word the whole way, just held my hand like a vice. The second her door closed…” Ava let out a low, throaty laugh. “It was like she’d been wound tight for forty years and I’d found the key. She pushed me against the door, her hands were everywhere, rough and desperate. Ripped my fucking shirt.”
She glanced again toward the shade. Lottie had her sunglasses still on, still pretending to read, but Ava knew she was absorbing every syllable.
“What was it like?” Jess asked, her voice hushed.
Ava’s gaze turned inward, reliving it. “It was wet. And loud. She was so fucking responsive. When I went down on her…” Ava paused, licking her lips slowly. “She came almost immediately. Just bucked against my mouth, her whole body seizing up. She screamed into a couch cushion. Afterwards, she cried. She said she’d never come that hard in her life, not even by herself. Said it felt like her mind broke.” Ava shrugged a bare, brown shoulder. “All that repression, Jess. It’s like a dam. Once it cracks, the flood just… obliterates everything.”
The word obliterates seemed to echo in the thick air. A car passed somewhere on the street beyond the garden wall, a mundane sound that only emphasized the private, charged universe inside the fence.
Lottie stood up abruptly, the legs of her chair scraping on the flagstones. “I’m… I’m going to get more tea, anyone want a drink?" she said, her voice strangely airy. She didn’t look at either of them as she walked quickly toward the house, her cover-up fluttering around her calves.
Ava watched her go, a predator observing a flushed rabbit retreat into its warren. The satisfaction was a warm, dark pool in her gut. The seed was planted. Now, she needed to water it.
The sky turned the color of a bruise in the late afternoon, purples and grays rolling in from the coast. The heat became oppressive, thick with the promise of rain. Jess declared she was meeting friends for a movie, leaving with a shout and a slam of the door. The house was suddenly, profoundly quiet, save for the first distant rumble of thunder.
Ava found Lottie in the living room, standing by the large window, watching the gathering storm. She’d changed into soft, gray linen pants and a simple white tank top. She looked softer, younger, more approachable without her usual careful armor.
“She left me to weather the storm with you,” Ava said, leaning against the doorframe.
Lottie jumped slightly, turning. A forced smile touched her lips. “She has a knack for dramatic exits. Would you like some dinner? It’s just leftovers, I’m afraid.”
“Leftovers with you sounds perfect.” Ava pushed off the frame and walked into the room. She’d changed too, into tiny denim cutoffs and a thin, cream-colored cropped top that left a strip of her midriff bare. She stood beside Lottie at the window, their arms not touching but close enough to feel the shared body heat. “It’s going to be a big one.”
As if on cue, a brilliant fork of lightning split the sky, followed seconds later by a crack of thunder that shook the windowpanes. The rain began all at once, a solid sheet of water hammering the roof, the patio, the pool.
The lights flickered once, twice, and went out, plunging the room into a deep, velvety gray. Lottie gasped.
“Power’s out,” Ava said, her voice calm in the sudden dark. “Probably just a transformer.”
“I should find candles,” Lottie murmured, turning and bumping gently into Ava in the gloom. “Oh! Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Ava whispered. She didn’t move back. “I like the dark.”
They stood there, a silhouette of two bodies close together, illuminated only by the occasional ghostly flash of lightning. Ava could hear Lottie’s breathing, quicker than it should be. She could smell the clean scent of her shampoo, the faint, sweet smell of her skin.
“Lottie,” Ava said, her voice barely audible over the drumming rain.
“Yes?” The reply was a breath.
“You listened today. By the pool.”
Lottie stiffened. “I… I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just…”
“It’s okay,” Ava said again, soothing. She reached out in the dark, her fingers finding Lottie’s wrist. The skin was fever-warm. “I wanted you to hear.”
“Why?” Lottie asked genuinely curious.
A lightning flash illuminated the room for a full second. Ava saw Lottie’s face, eyes wide and and warm. Ava used the sudden light to step closer, closing the final inch between them. When the darkness returned, it was absolute.
“Because,” Ava murmured, her mouth now close to Lottie’s ear. “I think about you. All the time.”
She watched Lottie's face change as realisation hit. Ava (and Jess) was a sexual being. A terribly sexy being at that. And she had a crush on Lottie. “Ava, … I’m not……”
“Shhh.” Ava brought her other hand up, cupping Lottie’s cheek. Her thumb stroked the soft skin. “Don’t think."
"No Ava, I.m married. Look honestly I am hugely flattered but women don't do it for me" She was being so kind , so Lottie. She even reached out and hugged Ava.
The second part of Ava's plan, Lottie now knew she wanted her and as a by product she was now wrapped in her arms, hugging.
The hug was everything. Ava melted into it, turning the consoling embrace into something fuller, her taller frame curving around Lottie’s softer one. She buried her face in the warm crook of Lottie’s neck, inhaling the scent of jasmine soap and storm-air. She could feel the frantic beat of Lottie’s heart against her own chest.
“Well, you can’t blame me,” Ava murmured, her voice thick with a perfectly conjured ache. She pulled back just enough to look at Lottie’s shadowed face, a single, glistening tear tracking down her own cheek. “You’re so beautiful. And so lovely.”
The effect was instantaneous. Lottie’s gentle hands, which had been patting Ava’s back, rose to cradle her face. Her thumbs, impossibly soft, brushed away the tear. “Oh, sweet girl. Don’t cry. Please.” Her own eyes shimmered with empathetic distress. “It’s just… it’s impossible.”
Ava leaned into the touch, nuzzling Lottie’s palm. She let the silence stretch, filled only by the pounding rain, before whispering, “I know.” She moved back into the hug, this time her arms locking possessively around Lottie’s waist, pressing their bodies from chest to thigh. Lottie, believing she was soothing a wounded heart, held her tighter.
“If I wasn’t married,” Lottie whispered into Ava’s dark hair, her voice trembling with a sincere, tragic warmth. “And if I was into girls… I’d so want you. You’re a goddess.” She said it like a final, definitive kindness. “But sadly, girls don’t do anything for me. I am certain I wouldn’t…” She trailed off, leaving the crude, unspoken word hanging between them like the humidity.
She pulled back, holding Ava by the shoulders. Her smile was wistful. “Now you need to find someone, boy or girl, your own age. You could literally have your pick.” She gave Ava’s shoulders a gentle, maternal squeeze.
Ava nodded, sniffling once for effect, her eyes wide and glistening in the dark. “I know,” she repeated, her voice small. Inside, a cold, brilliant triumph sang. The rejection was the bridge. The hug was the territory. And the confession—you’re a goddess—was a landmine planted deep in Lottie’s own mind.
“Come on,” Lottie said, her tone shifting to practical care. “Let’s find those candles before we break our necks.” She turned, fumbling toward a cabinet, her shape a blur in the gloom.
Ava watched her, the planned tear already dried. She replayed the words. I am certain I wouldn’t… The unfinished sentence was a door left ajar. Certainty, in Ava’s experience, was just fear wearing a convincing mask. And Lottie’s hands had trembled the whole time she held her.
A flash of lightning illuminated the room in a stark, blue-white snapshot. Lottie was on her knees by the cabinet, her blonde hair haloed, the linen of her pants pulled tight across the curve of her backside. The image burned into Ava’s retinas. Then darkness, deeper than before.
“Found them,” Lottie said. A match scraped and flared, casting a wobbly, orange globe of light. She lit two thick pillar candles on the coffee table. The room became a cave of jumping shadows, their faces turned into masks of gold and hollow darkness.
They sat on opposite ends of the large sofa, the candles between them. The rain lessened to a steady, soaking drizzle. The silence was no longer comfortable. It was textured now, woven with everything said and unsaid.
“Can I ask you something?” Ava said, her voice quiet but clear, no trace of the earlier tears.
“Of course.” Lottie tucked her feet beneath her, pulling a throw pillow onto her lap like a shield.
“You said girls don’t do anything for you. How do you know?” Ava kept her gaze on the candle flame, her profile serene, as if posing a philosophical question.
Lottie let out a soft breath. “I just… know. It’s not a thing I’ve ever felt. Not a flicker.”
“But you’ve never tried.” Ava looked at her then, her brown eyes capturing the candlelight, turning them liquid and deep. “and you don't think you could cum for a woman?" Ava laughed, the crude finishing of her own thought made Lottie stiffen.
Lottie’s fingers worried the fringe of the pillow. “I’m certain about plenty of things. I don’t need to jump off a cliff to know I wouldn’t like it.”
"Relax Lottie I'm only teasing you" The atmosphere lightened "But challenged accepted..."
Lottie raised an eyebrow "What do you mean?"
"The cumming thing" Ava laughed "In 20 years when Mike has died and you're less repressed and even lonelier I will make you scream and forget your own name over and over. $100 bet? " She quickly hugged Lottie, who stiffened at first before relaxing and laughing "Sure Ava - You're incorrigible Ava"
The rest of the evening passed off without incident Jess came home around ten and Lottie was already in bed.
She quickly hugged Lottie, who stiffened at first before relaxing and laughing. “You’re incorrigible, Ava.”
The rest of the evening passed off without incident. Jess came home around ten and Lottie was already in bed, lying awake in the dark, the ghost of Ava’s body pressed against hers replaying on a loop behind her eyelids. I think about you. All the time. The words vibrated in her bones, a foreign frequency her body was beginning, horrifyingly, to recognize.
Over the next few days, things returned to how they were. A casual easiness settled around the three of them. Lunches were made, pools were swum, and old romantic comedies played on the television.
But everything had shifted.
Ava continued her subtle seduction, a masterclass in plausible deniability. Her touches were fleeting, always explainable. A hand on Lottie’s shoulder as she reached for a plate. A bare foot brushing against Lottie’s calf under the coffee table. Fingers lingering for a half-second too long as she accepted a glass of iced tea.
Now, Lottie was aware of the undertone. Every casual touch registered on her skin like a brand. Initially, it just made her conscious, a minor static in the background of her thoughts. But over the days, the touches began to elicit slight reactions. A quickened breath she had to stifle. A tiny, involuntary shiver she blamed on the air conditioning. Nothing Jess would ever notice, but Ava saw it all. Her dark eyes would flicker, a knowing glance held for a fraction of a second before she turned away, a secret smile touching her lips.
And now, Lottie was beginning to notice herself noticing. The awareness became a second layer to every interaction, a silent, screaming subtext. She found her eyes tracing the line of Ava’s neck as she laughed, following the damp trail of a water droplet sliding between her breasts after a swim. A hot, shameful curl of something unfamiliar would tighten low in her belly, and she’d force her gaze away, her face warming.
Ava did not come over for three days. She cited visiting relatives, a sudden flurry of family obligations. The absence was a physical hollow in the house’s rhythm. Jess complained about being bored. Lottie found herself listening for the front door, jumping when the phone rang. She watered the jasmine twice in one afternoon, staring at the empty pool chairs.
On Friday, Ava returned. She arrived with a cheerful shout, a bag slung over her shoulder, wearing a buttercup-yellow bikini under a sheer mesh cover-up. The color was blinding against her tan, a sunburst of invitation. As she sunbathed with Jess, Lottie, from her shaded perch with a book, found her awareness sharpening to a painful point.
She noticed the precise architecture of Ava’s ribs as she stretched. She noticed the way the yellow fabric strained over the full curve of her hip. She noticed the slow, deliberate sweep of Ava’s hand as she applied oil to her own stomach, her fingers sliding beneath the string ties at her hips. Lottie’s mouth went dry. She took a long, shaky sip of iced water, the condensation cold against her suddenly hot palm.
That evening, Ava brought the plan. She arrived with two bottles of crisp Sauvignon Blanc, holding them aloft with a grin. “A thank you for putting up with me all summer,” she declared.
Dinner was a lively affair. Ava was a sparkling presence, refilling glasses with a generous hand. She kept Jess engaged in rapid-fire stories from campus, laughing loudly, ensuring the wine flowed. Jess, thrilled by the attention and the alcohol, matched her glass for glass.
“Okay, okay, but what about that guy from your philosophy class?” Jess slurred slightly, propping her chin on her hand. “The one who tried to argue that love was a biological fallacy?”
“Ugh, a walking red flag in corduroy,” Ava laughed, topping up Jess’s glass again. Lottie watched, a quiet observer. She’d only had one glass, nursing it, feeling strangely clear-headed amidst the growing giddiness.
“His hands were always clammy,” Ava continued, winking at Lottie as if sharing a private joke. “I can’t abide clammy hands.”
Lottie looked away, a flush creeping up her neck. The comment felt intimate, a callback to conversations she hadn’t been part of.
By the time the second bottle was empty, Jess was giggling uncontrollably at nothing, her head lolling. “I think… I think the room is spinning,” she mumbled, her words thick.
“Time for bed, baby girl,” Ava said, her voice sweet and supportive. She helped a wobbling Jess to her feet, slinging the girl’s arm over her shoulder. “Let’s get you tucked in.”
Lottie moved to help, but Ava shook her head. “I’ve got her. You relax. Long week.” Her gaze held Lottie’s, warm and knowing.
Lottie listened to their clumsy progress up the stairs, Jess’s incoherent protests, the click of a door closing. Silence descended, heavy and expectant. She stood in the kitchen, her fingers tracing the stem of her wine glass. The house felt different. Charged. The only sounds were the hum of the refrigerator and the frantic beat of her own heart.
Ava came back down the stairs, her steps quiet and sure. She entered the kitchen, leaning against the doorway. The overhead light caught the gold in her brown eyes. “Out like a light,” she said softly. “She won’t be surfacing until noon.”
Lottie was a little on edge, thinking Ava had engineered things, but when Ava said "I'll head up too" walking to Lottie and hugging her a little too tight before heading to Jess' room.
Lottie relaxed with a sigh then realised there was a little disappointment there too, she blushed at the thought, drank another glass of wine before heading to bed. Her mind was not resting but she managed to fall asleep pretty quickly nonetheless.
Ava, stayed awake, listening for Lottie. When she heard her in the bathroom she put the next phase of her plan in place. She waited another hour before getting out of bed - checking that Jess was still passed out - check - and walking silently into the master bedroom. She removed her nightie at the door and walked silently and nakedly to the bed. The bed of her obsession. Her own heart was pounding as she watched the peaceful sleeping older woman. She was beautiful and so so sexy. She eased her weight onto the bed , stealthily straddling her prey. Once in position she placed her lips softly against Lotties, a breath. She quietly and quickly pinned Lottie's hands above her head as she stirred and woke. Startled at first "Ava, what are you doing?' She struggled a little.
"Going to win our bet" Ava said sweetly, kissing Lottie on the lips, her tongue trying for entrance but denied.
"Bet?" Lottie said confused.
"That I couldn't make you cum" Ava kissed her again.
"What no I..." but Ava's mouth and tongue cut her off as she spoke.
but Ava's mouth and tongue cut her off as she spoke.
The kiss wasn't gentle. It was a claiming. Ava’s lips were soft but insistent, her tongue pushing past Lottie’s startled gasp to delve deep, tasting of wine and mint and sheer, audacious want. Lottie’s hands, pinned above her head in Ava’s strong grip, clenched into fists. A muffled sound of protest vibrated in her throat, lost against Ava’s mouth.
Her mind was a white panic. This is wrong this is wrong this is wrong. The words screamed on a loop, a frantic alarm bell. She bucked her hips, a weak, uncoordinated thrash against the younger woman’s weight. Ava didn’t budge. She just deepened the kiss, a low hum of pleasure resonating from her chest into Lottie’s. One of Ava’s knees nudged Lottie’s thighs apart, settling more fully between them.
The sheer, shocking heat of another body, a woman’s body, pressed against her own through the thin silk of her nightgown short-circuited Lottie’s thoughts. It was a solid, warm weight, so different from Robert’s bony frame. Ava released her mouth, trailing wet, biting kisses down her jaw to her throat. “Stop,” Lottie choked out, her voice a ragged whisper. “Ava, please, you can’t—”
“I can,” Ava murmured against her pulse point, her breath scorching. “And you want me to.” Her hips rolled down, a slow, grinding circle that pressed the firm muscle between her legs directly against Lottie’s core. A bolt of pure, undiluted sensation, sharp and electric, shot through Lottie’s belly. Her back arched off the mattress of its own volition, a traitorous reflex.
“No,” Lottie gasped, but it sounded weak, breathy. Horror flooded her. That jolt hadn’t been disgust. It had been… recognition. Her body had recognized that friction, that pressure, and answered it instantly, a slick, hot ache beginning to bloom between her legs. No no no no.
“Your body is saying yes,” Ava whispered, licking a stripe up the column of her throat. One hand released Lottie’s wrist, sliding down her arm, over the frantic flutter of her ribs, to cup the full curve of her breast through the silk. Lottie cried out, a short, sharp sound. Ava’s thumb found her nipple, circling it, pressing until it pebbled into a hard, aching point. A whimper escaped Lottie’s lips. It was pleasure, raw and shocking, so intense it felt like pain.
“See?” Ava’s voice was a dark velvet. She pinched the nipple gently, and Lottie’s hips jerked again, this time not to escape but to seek. The movement was small, involuntary. The betrayal was complete. A sob caught in Lottie’s chest. Tears of confusion and shame welled in her eyes. She was married. She was straight. This was her step-daughter’s best friend, a girl, for God’s sake.
But Ava’s mouth was on her breast now, sucking the taut peak through the dampening silk. The sensation was catastrophic, a direct line of fire to her clit. A low, guttural moan tore from Lottie’s throat before she could stifle it. Her free hand flew to Ava’s hair, not to push her away, but to clutch at the dark waves, fingers tangling in the silken strands.
Ava took that as the surrender it was. She released Lottie’s other wrist, both hands now sliding down to grip her hips. She sat back, straddling Lottie’s thighs, and in the faint moonlight from the window, Lottie could see her: a goddess of shadow and desire, her breasts full and heavy, her eyes black with hunger. She gripped the hem of Lottie’s nightgown.
“Lift your hips,” Ava commanded, her voice leaving no room for debate.
Trembling violently, Lottie obeyed. The cool air hit her skin as the silk was peeled away and tossed to the floor. She was completely naked, exposed, her body pale and soft in the gloom. Ava’s gaze raked over her, a physical caress. “Fucking beautiful,” she breathed, her hands smoothing up Lottie’s trembling thighs, pushing them wider apart. “Look at you. So wet for me already. I can smell it.”
The crude words should have revolted her. Instead, they sent a fresh wave of heat through her veins. She was wet. She was dripping. The evidence was a slick, shameful truth between her legs. Ava leaned down, her hair trailing over Lottie’s stomach, and kissed the inside of her thigh. Lottie flinched, a final, feeble resistance. “Ava, don’t… I’ve never… a woman hasn’t…”
“I know,” Ava said, her lips a breath away from Lottie’s core. “That’s what makes this so perfect.” And then her mouth was on her.
There was no hesitation, no gentle exploration. Ava licked her in one long, firm stripe from her entrance to her clit, a bold, claiming stroke that made Lottie cry out and fist the sheets. Her mind shattered. Nothing in her limited experience had prepared her for this—the softness, the pinpoint accuracy, the utterly focused devotion. Ava’s tongue was a wicked, clever thing, circling her clit, flicking it, sucking it gently into the heat of her mouth.
“Oh, God,” Lottie whimpered, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking more. The guilt was a distant, fading echo, drowned out by the roaring tide of sensation. Her hands were in Ava’s hair again, holding her there, pressing her closer. Ava hummed against her, the vibration traveling straight to Lottie’s spine.
Ava slid two fingers inside her without warning, curling them up in a come-hither motion that brushed a spot deep inside that Lottie didn’t even know existed. Her whole body convulsed. “Fuck!” The obscenity ripped from her, loud in the quiet room. Ava fucked her with those fingers, a steady, relentless rhythm, while her tongue worked Lottie’s clit into a swollen, throbbing pearl of need.
The coil in her belly tightened beyond bearing. It was too much, too fast, too alien and too right. Her breaths came in ragged sobs. “I’m… I’m going to…”
“Come,” Ava growled against her, her voice thick with her own arousal. “Come on my face, Lottie. Let me feel it.”
The command broke her. The orgasm detonated, a silent, screaming wave that tore through her, shaking her to her foundation. Her back bowed off the bed, her thighs clamping around Ava’s head as she pulsed around Ava’s fingers, a hot, wet rush of release. It was longer, deeper, more wrenching than any climax she’d ever had with a man. It felt like her soul was being pulled out through her cunt.
Ava rode it out with her, gentling her tongue, pumping her fingers slowly until the last tremor subsided. Lottie collapsed back onto the mattress, boneless, gasping for air, her mind a blank, stunned void. Ava crawled up her body, her face glistening with Lottie’s arousal. She kissed her, deep and slow, letting Lottie taste herself on her tongue.
The reality came crashing back, cold and brutal. Lottie turned her head away, the tears finally spilling over. “What have I done?” she whispered, her voice broken.
Ava brushed the tears from her cheeks, her expression fierce, possessive. “You came,” she said simply. “You came harder than you ever have in your life.” She shifted her weight, guiding Lottie’s hand down between her own legs. “Now feel what you do to me.”
Lottie’s fingers met hot, soaked skin. Ava was drenched, her folds swollen and slippery. The evidence of her desire was shocking, primal. Ava rocked against Lottie’s tentative touch, a ragged moan escaping her lips. “Touch me,” she begged, her confident facade cracking to reveal raw need. “Please, Lottie.”
Hesitantly, driven by a confusing mix of horror, gratitude, and a newfound, terrifying hunger, Lottie let her fingers explore. Ava’s clit was a hard, eager bud. When Lottie circled it, Ava’s whole body shuddered. “Yes, just like that,” she panted, her hips moving in frantic circles. “Fuck, your hands…”
Lottie watched, mesmerized, as Ava fell apart above her. She saw the tension coil, the beautiful face contort in pleasure, heard the choked, filthy words spill from Ava’s lips as she chased her own climax. It was the most profoundly intimate thing she had ever witnessed. When Ava came, it was with a sharp cry she muffled against Lottie’s shoulder, her body clenching around Lottie’s fingers, her release hot and slick.
For a long moment, they lay tangled in the dark, the only sound their ragged breathing. The scent of sex and sweat filled the air. Lottie’s mind began to reboot, the implications landing like blows. She was naked in bed with a twenty-one-year-old woman. She had cheated on her husband. She had loved it.
Panic, cold and slick, began to replace the afterglow. She tried to pull away, but Ava’s arms tightened around her, holding her close. “Shhh,” Ava murmured into her hair, her voice sated and smug. “It’s done now.”
Down the hall, completely oblivious, Jess slept on. The house was silent. But in the master bedroom, everything had changed. Lottie stared into the darkness, feeling Ava’s heartbeat against her own, and knew with a sick, sure dread that this was only the beginning. The dam had not just cracked; it had been utterly obliterated. Ava kissed her now soft and tender. "I've wanted you for years Lottie" Real vulnerability. Ava stood up and gathered her nightie and returned to Jess' room to sleep..grinning ear to ear.