Delilah’s Dreams Ch. 03 by twohadows
Indulge in the tantalizing secrets of 'Delilah's Dreams Ch. 03.' This captivating erotic sex story takes you on a thrilling journey of passion, desire, and exploration. Discover what ignites Delilah's fantasies in this steamy chapter. Perfect for lovers of erotic fiction seeking an unforgettable read!<br/> Chapter 3
Laughing hysterically, Penny yells over the bathroom’s exhaust fan, “So, Karen was a ‘Karen’?”
I yell back from the living room where I’m sitting, “Oh my gosh girl!” Now I’m laughing too. “She seemed nothing like that when we were chatting online. Same with her picture. At the restaurant I was looking right at her and didn’t know who it was until she came over and introduced herself. Her hair was different and she looked fifteen years older!”
Penny pokes her head out of the bathroom and rolls her eyes. “Time to update your picture, woman.”
“For real!” I groan and stretch my arms over the back of the couch. It feels good to be in my slip and out of that heavy sequin dress. “What an awful time.”
Penny returns to the living room in boxers and a T-shirt, grabs the remotes off of the coffee table and plops down beside me. “What movie do you want to watch?”
“I don’t know, it’s your place.” I say with disinterest, then get an idea. “Can we stream a lesbian flick?” I say with a smile and hopeful eyes.
“Sure.” Penny searches her streaming services for lesbian romance films.
“Hey! I heard this one was good,” I say pointing at the screen to a film called, Blue Is The Warmest Color.
Penny loads the movie onto her 120 inch television. “The preview says it’s saucy. Let’s check it out.” She shifts her weight from side to side and makes an uncomfortable face. “I hate this, Delilah!”
“Don’t use that word. It’s not good to hate things.”
“What? I can’t hate having my period?” Penny laughs. “Because I do.”
“it’s not that. But it’s a powerful word and saying it invites negativity into your life. Maybe use dislike.” She gives me her resting bitch face. “Detest?” I offer, but there’s no change in her expression. “Or what about despise?”
“So, despise? I despise having my period?” Penny thinks a moment and continues in an exaggerated British accent, “I despise riding the bloody crimson wave.”
I cringe. “Eww! That’s disgusting, Penny! ”
“I know!” She empathizes, “Don’t you hate that?!”
“Eww, yes! I- Hey!”
“Aha! See?” Penny points and playfully smacks me on the shoulder. “You hate it too!”
“No fair!” I fall onto her lap, laughing while hiding my embarrassment behind a couch cushion.
Beneath my head Penny repositions her legs. “Okay.” She taps my shoulder and points at the television. “Movie.”
Together we watch the opening scene until the first line is spoken. “Subtitles? Oh no!” I whine.
” Yeah. It’s French. You didn’t know that?”
“No. That’s okay. I find the language soothing.”
“Do you want me to change it?”
I snuggle up to her. “No; no this is fine. As long as I can keep my head on your lap.”
“Of course, Delilah.” Penny’s thighs shift almost imperceptibly beneath my head. “Do you want some popcorn?”
“I’m not hungry just yet. Maybe later we can do an intermission and have some then?”
“That sounds good.” She smiles at me, looks up at the TV and I feel a small shift in her thighs again.
“Your period is really bothering you, isn’t it.”
“Uh, yeah, it is, I guess.”
“I guess?” I prop myself on my elbow and stare at her while she avoids making eye contact. “Is something else bothering you, Penny?”
She pauses the movie. “No.” She looks everywhere but at me and speaks again. “No. I’m okay.”
“Penny, we’ve been friends for like, what, nine months? We hang together three or four times a week. I know you. What’s up?”
She sighs. “Delilah, you know already. We talked about this months ago.”
I stare at Penny quizzically, trying to remember the conversation and struggling to do so. “Help me out. Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” There’s a sob in her voice. Now she looks at me and speaks quietly. “No, Delilah, the talk we had about you and me.”
“Oh. I see.” I sit up. “I didn’t realize… I mean, I didn’t know that was an issue.” I struggle for the right words. “Is it something… is it something that bothers you?”
“No, I mean, it’s not like it keeps me up at night. Well, maybe that’s not 100% true…” Penny’s voice trails off along with her stare and her thoughts. A moment later, she looks up and sees the concerned look on my face. “But no! No, no, no, no. It’s not a problem.” Concern remains, so she continues. “Besides, I remember what you said.”
Again I don’t remember. “What I said?”
“Yeah,” she looks away again, “that you still love her.”
“Oh… Yeah.” It’s my turn to look away. I stare at my feet while I process my feelings. I do still love Julie. I miss her big, brown doe eyes. I crave her touch. I find her face everywhere I go in every woman I see. Eleven years… and I love Penny. I love the time we spend together and all the talks we have. She’s a great friend and a great listener and…
It strikes me how despite her confession of attraction, I’ve done nothing for the last few months but talk about how much I love Julie. Suddenly, I feel like a crappy friend.
When I raise my head, Penny is smiling at me. “It’s really not a problem, Delilah. You’ve been honest with me from the start. You’re a good friend. I’m good with that.”
After a long moment’s silence, I force a return smile. “Yeah. So are you, Penny.” The crushing guilt causes my voice to crack. “Should we-” I regain my composure and try again with a smile and a lighter tone. “Shall we resume the movie?”
“Positively!” She answers in that same British accent and giggles. Without accent she says. “But only if you lay your head on my lap again. You were comfortable like that.”
I study her eyes for a couple of seconds, looking for a martyr. Her smile broadens and she guides me to her lap. I land softly, swallow my guilt and relax. I quickly grow tired of reading the captions and enjoy the cinematography instead. Soon the film doubles, then blurs and I am lost to sleep…
…”Are you sure? It doesn’t seem fair.” I’m naked – except for a pink, lace-over-satin g-string – and sitting on Julie’s bed watching her undress.
She stops with her pants half off, holding her bra in her hand. “What, Delilah? You don’t want to?”
“Of course I want to, but you know how sick I get when I have my period,” I pout. “I could never do this for you, especially every day like this. And you’re always so creative. I never know what we’re going to do or how I’m going to be pleased by you, but you never fail. I feel guilty.”
“Well my period makes me horny.” She accentuates the words my and me as she strips to just a black, satin thong. “So lie on your back my oh-so-lucky lover.”
Lying back I ask half rhetorically, “Am I dumb for feeling this way?”
“Yes.” She smiles. “Yes you are.”
I smile back. “I’ll do something special for you next week.” I stretch my legs and reach my hands toward the corner posts of the bed.
“Why?” Julie laughs and pulls sections of seasoned hemp rope and a leather blindfold out of the top drawer of the bureau. “You’re doing something special for me right now.”
She lays on the bed beside me and drags the rope ends along the curves of my body, between my breasts and across my nipples. I gasp and squirm at the roughness of the rope’s fibers. Then up my arms – paying special attention to the inside of my wrists – and the inside of my legs, stopping just short of my mound. I moan softly. Julie leans in close until our noses are a few inches apart. The intensity of her dark brown eyes hold me captive.