Til Morning Comes

by Lisa Ann Harper

  “To us,” she re-joined and kissed her back.

  Sitting in the hot rays, it was a pleasure to survey the rewards of all their hard work on the garden. It was beginning to look green and cared-for and, picked out in odd patches of illumination, the startling and vibrant colours of spring daffodils and crocuses were a feast for the eye. As they snacked, Mal thought Jellie relaxed enough to ask what had gone on while she had been out with EJ.

  “Oh Mal, it was so odd.”

  She stopped munching, in surprise. “What was odd?”

  “Emma told me they’d figured it out we’d slept together.” She couldn’t help a slight stumbling to her words or the quick flush to her cheeks, but this time it was in delight. “What I didn’t understand was a reference she made to you having a foot in a camp.” She looked at her frankly now, waiting for an explanation.

  “Ah!” she said with immediate insight. “Was that it?”

  “Well no, she thought it was funny I was so reticent, seeing as how you’re a ‘dyke’.” She floundered again. “I had no idea what she was talking about,” she added uncomfortably. This time Mal threw back her head and laughed, in the full throated way that allowed Jellie to feast her eyes on her strong neck and the line of taut muscle down the sides. Mal caught the scrutiny and planted a light kiss. “Oh Jells.”

  “So what is it that everyone finds so funny?” Shortness had crept into her voice as her eyes narrowed in impatience. She felt excluded and didn’t like it.

  “It’s all right, Honey.” Mal leaned forward and clasped her hand. “No-one is laughing at you.”

  “So …?” There was no answering smile.

  “I’ll try to fill you in.” She took a deep breath. How best to explain this stuff, so recondite for the uninitiated. Could she take the abstraction and make it real? “Jells you understand we’re not the first women to love each other, right?” She nodded. “In the past women had to hide their love. Not in Sappho’s time, though. You’ve heard of Sappho?” This time she shook her head. “Sappho lived on the island of Lesbos in the sixth century, BC. She was a Greek woman who gloried in the love of women. Baudelaire coined the appellation for her: Daughter of Desire. She wrote beautiful poetry and gave us the word Sapphism, which is another word for Lesbianism. That word comes from the island where she lived with her maidens.”

  Jellie was gazing at her with eyes growing more open in wonderment. It started so far back, with Greek women? “How has it managed to remain so … unknown?”

  “Well … having loving feelings for another woman isn’t exactly part of the Christian ethic, so it’s been very much condemned throughout history. Consequently, in the old days Lesbians more or less went under-ground.”

  “How do you mean, ‘underground’?”

  “When you were a girl, Lesbians generally belonged to the privilege classes. In this case they had money and could afford to meet in their private houses, or at a special rendezvous. It was very hush-hush. The clandestine nature of the assignations was provocative too. They lived a sensational life by night and the rest of the world was in ignorance.”

  “Goodness me!” her eyes widened, the news so startling. She didn’t want to lead a double life, this one was complicated enough.

  “It’s not like that now, of course.” Mal brushed back the obstinate lock that would flop forward over her brow when she was particularly involved. “We still have the hang-over of the bars and clubs where you can meet at night, but generally they’re for men and women; mixed.”

  “With men, too?” surprise crossed her face, a perplexed gleam in the shadow of her eyes.

  “Yes, we all get on together. The clubs are no longer hidden away and the existence of homosexuality no longer raises an eyebrow. We’re all called Gays now.

  “Goodness,” said Jellie again, not sure she was able to take it all in. “So it’s all right to tell everyone we love each other?” Even so she coloured with embarrassment.

  “Well … we can’t quite go that far. We’re tolerated. There’s acceptance from understanding Hets. Those who have gay friends, but on the whole we keep pretty much to ourselves, especially if we want to act-out.”

  Her voice dropped, more ignorance: “What does that mean?”

  Mal got up and walked round the table. She bent down, encircling Jellie in her arms. She looked up and Mal kissed her on the lips. The kiss lingered and she felt the woman’s response, then she let her go. She surveyed her for a moment then explained, looking deep into her eyes: “We wouldn’t kiss like that in public.”

  She pulled back slightly asking: “Kissing has to be a hidden thing?”

  “Not in a gay bar or at a private get-together in someone’s house. You see we still have to be circumspect in public. Some people can be offended by an outward demonstration of affection.” She released her shoulders. “There’re many places where we wouldn’t have our arms around each other, or walk hand in hand.”

  “Oh Mal, it’s so complicated.”

  “Not really. You sort of develop a sixth sense. You know when you feel free and when it’s not appropriate. But you’re right. It’s not so straight forward as being heterosexual.” She brought her chair round to Jellie’s to be closer. “You don’t have to learn everything all at once, Jells. There’re some books you may like to read that have passed into the Lesbian sub-culture. Most of us have read them at some time in our lives and there are movies too, but I think the novels will be an easier place for you to start. I think you would find Fanny Burney’s Diaries and Letters of interest, too. She was well before your … I mean your other time. She died in 1840 and her circle, although exclusive, was made up of many interesting women.”

  Jellie smiled in acknowledgement. “When I asked the question I didn’t expect anything like this,” she admitted and gave a bright laugh to show that all was well again. “But I don’t mind, I’m keen to learn everything.” Her aware face glowed with pleasure as she added simply: “Loving you makes me so happy.” After a moment she asked for clarification on ‘acting-out’.

  “Oh, that’s just bringing your fantasies into real-life.”

  “What fantasies would they be?” She didn’t think she had any.

  Mal chuckled. “Give yourself time. You’ll know them when you feel them.”

  The temperature had fallen and at last they noticed the afternoon beginning to cool. The clouds had rolled in once more and now the sun’s rays were outlining their edges in delicate hues of turquoise and pink.

  “Time for chores Babe, let’s get the horses in then we can call it a day.” She began to clear the table as Jellie looked up and agreed. The sun’s roseate flush had heralded the restrained undertone of dusk and she saw how already the deepening shadows had robbed some colour from the flowerbeds. As she made her way around to the back, she pondered on how much there was to learn.

  * * *

  The routine of the evening chores had been calming to Jellie’s turbulent thoughts. She had more questions, but she could be patient. What she really wanted to know was more about Mal. She loved this woman with all her heart, but in some ways she was still a stranger. Her dilemma: would it be too bold to probe into the private places of this woman who is a Lesbian? She felt so deficient; possibly incompetent. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Mal’s feelings. She was an open book, but to her, Mal was a woman of mystery. She finished up the last of the water buckets and turned the lights out over the stalls. “’Night guys, see you in the morning,” she called out as she latched the stable door.

  Mal was already in the kitchen, a cloth apron around her waist and a big pot of pasta on the stove. She was launched into her chicken cacciatore, the tomatoes and mushrooms already sliced; the herbs and seasonings assembled on the side.

  “I thought we should both have a ‘red’ tonight,” she declared as she turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand.

  “Can I?”

  “You hardly take those pills any more Jells. You’re good. In fact I think you’re all bet
ter.” She approached the table where Jellie had taken a seat. The spoon still in her right hand, she lightly tapped her on each shoulder: “I, Mallory Jane Mason, pronounce you Nigella Violet Patchford, from henceforth completely sound in mind and body; fully permitted to partake of the odd, odd mind you, glass of wine.” Chuckling, she kissed her then added: “Get us a bottle Honey will you?” Laughing happily, Jellie took off to their storage cupboard where they had stowed the left-over bottles and found a Merlot. We really could do with a wine-rack, she thought.

  After dinner they took the bottle and their glasses to the living room and sat together, sunk deep into the soft cushions on the couch. Mal chose to play one of her favourite groups INXS, their album: After Glow, just softly as background.

  “Mal, you won’t be offended if I ask you a personal question?” Before she could answer she blurted out: “You can say ‘no’ if you want.”

  “Ask away. You can ask me anything darlin’, you know that.” The arm around her shoulders tightened and she bestowed a light kiss.

  “I feel you know everything about me and I know nothing about you.”

  “You know more about me than anyone else on this earth, my love.”

  “For example: when we met I took you for a man …” She stopped, unable to articulate the words from that difficult time, but she needed to know.

  “Oh yes …” she disentangled herself to reach forward for the bottle: “… when we met.” She refilled their glasses and took her time before she spoke. This would not be easy, but Jellie deserved no less than the truth, a sip first.

  “I know you know about the time warp; so me.”

  Jellie realised she had been holding her breath. She tried to relax, but was all ears.

  “Before I get into that Jells, I should explain something.”

  Crikey! How’s this going to sound? The last thing I need is to come across like some weirdo. “Not all women who love women are pretty and feminine like you Jells.” She paused and turned her head to face her. “Some of us are more masculine. Perhaps I should say, have varying degrees of masculine traits.” She stopped. Was this getting through? Jellie didn’t respond, only continued to look at her with those big, round eyes, struggling to make some sense.

  “Well … this doesn’t mean we have to be exactly the same as men. It’s like being on a continuum. We can fall at the extreme end, or somewhere along the scale.”

  “But you aren’t like a man,” she blurted out. “I love you as a woman.” This was getting more and more involved and abstruse.

  “Yes, you’re right Jells but … I have more male in me than you have. You would agree with that?

  “Well yes, I guess so.” She watched her fingers curl and uncurl and had to admit to herself that she never had seen her wearing a dress.

  “It can be like this when we make love, too.” She stopped and looked at her glass. How could she explain this part?

  Now she was baffled and barely above a whisper said: “I don’t understand, we are both female, there’s nothing ambiguous about that.”

  “Yes darling, I’m not trying to confuse you. It’s just that you and I are really very different, although … although we are both women.”

  “Explain it to me.” This time she sat back, lost as to where to steer her emotions.

  Mal swung around and her mouth twisted slightly. “I don’t want you to think I’m somebody strange Jellie … if I tell you about me.” She fixed her with a watchful stare.

  “Tell me, tell me. I want to know!” She gulped down a rising alarm.

  “I like making love to you the way a man would.” She must be honest now; no evasions, no pretence. “I love your softness, the feel and taste of you. I like being on top of you and feeling the pressure of your breasts beneath me.” Say it all Mal; don’t hold back. “I like being all over your body and if I could, I would like to be inside you when we make love.”

  This thought excited Jellie. A ripple of desire flooded through her, wild and extravagant, but she tried to keep her features impassive. She must not be distracted; must pay attention, but she knew her body would love to feel Mal inside her. To be really that close.

  “Do you find these appetites bizarre?” Mal was anxious. She hadn’t shown repugnance, but no understanding either. “You see what’s in my head isn’t exactly the same as what’s in yours.” She couldn’t go on. She needed to hear her perspective.

  “No, I don’t think it’s bizarre. I’ve loved you from the beginning. I always have.”

  “Yes Jells, you loved me when you thought I was a man … as a woman would love a man. That would be natural, but what about now … now that you know? I don’t think you love me the way I love you … do you?”

  Jellie couldn’t say anything. She felt out of her depth; too much analysis. “All I know is that I love you and I want you to love me … any way you want to.” She stopped there. It was so simple. This other stuff … what was she going on about? Mal could see her agitation and the last thing she wanted was to cause further upset.

  “That’s great Jells. I just needed to be sure you were happy.”

  “Oh darling I am. Just to know that you love me, the way I love you …” She stopped, abruptly distracted by a compelling thought. Enlightenment had come in a flash and left her flustered. Unexpectedly, she had seen what Mal was getting at. What she had wanted last night was all Mal’s attention. She had wanted her focus; her passion and her drive. Perhaps it was this mystery of their differences that was the secret source of their desires; that formed the attraction between them.

  Mal took the glass from Jellie’s hand. Her need for this woman was consuming her; desire burned her up. She held her chin and tilted her face to her. Her mouth took commanding charge of the trembling lips as she drew her body next to hers. She pressed her close then trailed her tongue down towards her neck where she sucked persistently; unrelenting in a slow, defiling bite. Constrained against the cushions, head tilted back Jellie was deliciously helpless, consumed in the smouldering heat of this sensuous and tormenting lesion. She felt wantonly tarnished and gloriously shameless, in giving herself over to this woman’s power.

  Mal moved her hand to the top of the shirt to undo the series of buttons, down to the waist. Her pulse beat pounded; her breath heaved. She pushed back the fabric until her hand could feel the full mound of flesh, held captive in a lace cup. Her hot mouth returned to Jellie’s lips and she lost herself in a long, licentious kiss. This was her supremacy; her domination.

  The hand, circling the nipple was sending fire directly to the heated centre between Jellie’s thighs. Her body moved of itself under the stimulation, until Mal released her lips and with both hands, exposed her breast to the new pressure of her tongue. Abruptly, she withdrew her attention and Jellie looked deep into her lover’s fiery eyes, ablaze with a lust that would not be denied. Mal broke the spell, returning her face to the engorged breasts. She gave one nipple a series of quick licks; darts of spiking sensation, the other she shaped between finger and thumb. Then, taking it into her mouth she sucked and pulled on the erect hardness, totally lost in her sensual ecstasy, until Jellie exploded into a climax that took her completely by surprise. She called out terms of endearment she didn’t realise she was uttering, as she clung to Mal and felt the shuddering waves of her orgasm sweep through her.

  “Come dearest. Lie here in my arms.” She pulled the shirt back into place as Jellie nestled her head on her shoulder.

  “That was so wonderful darling. It amazes me what you can do to me.”

  “You’re so responsive Jells. You make everything such a pleasure for me, too.”

  Jellie’s eyelids began to droop and Mal could hear the change in her breathing. After only a short space of time they flew open with the declaration that her arm had gone to sleep. She could feel pins and needles.

  “I think it’s time we got ourselves sorted for bed. It’s an early start tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I’m going to shower first, though.” S
he gave Mal a kiss then looked at her mouth and kissed her again.

  “Now, now … don’t start. Off you go, I’ll be along soon.”

  When Mal finally arrived it was quite some time later. She had decided to take a shower and cool herself down. Jellie was already asleep. Gently, so as not to disturb, she raised a corner of the bedclothes and slipped in. Jellie’s warm body smelled of lavender. She was wearing her satin and lace nightie, the blue one. In the night-light, Mal took time to gaze at her flawless face. Momentarily, she had forgotten the impact of her presence and the energy surged inside her as her attention was commanded by the beauty that now lay open to her. With her dark, glossy hair unbound like this, she so reminded her of that first day when she had come upon her lying amongst the brown, crisp beech leaves in Featherstone Copse. In sleep she appeared too pure; untouchable, but she knew that was only an illusion.

  Jellie felt her presence and turned to reach out. She gathered her to her in a warm embrace and whispered: “I want … to do to you … what you do to me. Will you let me?”

  “I’m happy to have you do what you want Babe.” She sat up and lifted the blue satin up and over her head.

  “Now you, darling.” The PJ’s came off. They lay facing each other.

  She began with a kiss. At first her tongue was hesitant; the exploration tentative. Everything felt so good, she grew bolder and let her hand caress down her back, so broad and strong, to the muscular buttocks, prominent and firm. Her fingers kneaded the taut flesh as she pressed her closer to her belly. The small, firm breasts were crushed into her and the erect nipples, hard next to hers. Her excitement was immediate. She must taste this tempting flesh. She moved her torso down to lie on top; her thighs spread either side of Mal’s hips. For the first time she experienced the tantalising excitement of that prone, hovering touch. Mal tried her best to lie still, but her physical response took over and despite her resolve to be passive, she found her hand seeking the hot slipperiness that was Jells. She came from behind and slid her fingers from the back to the slit and back again, until there was nothing but soaking wetness and the easiest access to that tight hole. For now she allowed barely more than a soft pressure, her control well in hand.