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Subject: {ASSM} A Journey Resumed Ch 01 (FF, Rom)
Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2000 23:10:05 -0500
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A Journey Resumed
By James Bellamy
Chapter One
"Francesca?!!"
"Uh ......yes?"
The voice was vaguely familiar. But, Francesca couldn't quite place
it. She disliked phone calls that started with this guessing game. It
made her uncomfortable - someone familiar enough to use her first name,
but not quite recognizable.
"I'm just calling to see if I'm still the only person who is allowed to
call you 'Frannie'?"
"You're kidding me! Emma? .. Not good old Em? It can't be you, ..
really?" She felt a strange excitement mixed with incredulity. Emma,
her best friend from ........ how many years ago .............. Twenty,
twenty-five?
"Yes!!!!!"
"Good grief, how long .......... How long has it been? I guess it is,
can it be ....twenty years? I remember you as an annual post card from
Paris, or Timbuktu. Good grief, how are you? I mean, where are you.
How did you find me? All those questions!!!!!!!!"
"Well, I am back in the USA and just visited the old home town, found
your Mom still there and 'Voila', here I am practically on your
doorstep! And stop asking me how long it has been, you snot, it will
make me feel old! And I'm not, by the way. Bet you're not either,
right?"
Emma had been her best friend up until the age of 17 when her family
moved to, first, Texas, then Paris, then someplace in the Far East.
They had long since lost any real touch with each other. Francesca
thought of her sometimes, relishing the memories and sometimes feeling
creepy about the "growing-up" insecurities they had shared. All the old
neighborhood childhood games, going to camp together, figuring out
boyfriends together, it sprang back easily and sometimes uncomfortably,
but mostly it was a warm place to retreat to. She missed that kind of
friendship in adulthood.
"Right! I'm still just the same, haven't gained a pound or formed a
wrinkle. Lucky, eh?"
Their easy laughter still came bubbling to the surface quickly, easily,
like a warm friendly spring flooding over them.
"Well, where are you, Em? Are you really here? Here in Chicago?
Where? How can we get together? You better not be kidding me!"
"It is a little strange, babe, but we just moved here; here to Chicago.
I live about ten blocks south of you! I just walked in the door and
couldn't wait to call. Can you come over here? Can you come now? We
need to catch up, big time! I'm literally dying to see you. Say you'll
come!"
"Why not, I really planned to get at that laundry, but I guess I could
break the date! How do I get there?"
The taxi ride was a short one. Just ten blocks down Outer Drive
Parkway. Francesca passed her mind's eye over a fairly normal
childhood of fond memories - slumber parties at Emma's house, sharing
intimate details and questions huddled on her bed in the big pink
bedroom that had been their home and haven from the world. She felt a
strange tingling as she thought of it.
Really, Emma had probably been the first person she really felt love
for -- probably only recognized now, from the vantage point of maturity
and a well-developed understanding and appreciation of life. Yes..
love, that was definitely the word for it.
"Now what is it going to be like. God, what if we hate each other?
What if we are bored? Think of all the memories sullied!" She
couldn't get over the excitement of seeing her again. "Mustn't raise
the hopes too, high," she thought. We've both gone off and found our
part of the world, both changed in god knows what ways."
The door to Apartment 1510 opened immediately and a still willowy, now
blond, grown up version of her friend Emma wrapped her in a welcoming
bear hug.
"Frannie - you look wonderful," a big kiss followed. "I promise that's
the last Frannie' I'll utter, promise!"
"Emma, look how you grew up. God, you're a Vamp!"
She led the way to an opulent sunken living room with deep pile rugs
scattered over a white carpet. Emma handed her down two steps and into
the arms of a large curved sofa, so soft and plump that Francesca felt
engulfed.
"How about something to drink?" Her smile was just as it was when she
was fifteen -- wide, full of teeth and warm.
"Yes, please, white wine would do fine?"
Over a bottle of Chablis, their conversation sprang immediately back to
life in spite of the years that had passed. It was amazing, especially
considering that they were seventeen years old the last time they were
together. It soon seemed as if there had not been a lapse and really,
they filled in the gaps with fast talk between reminiscences of growing
up.
In a pause between stories, Emma finally said:
"You know, I worried that we would have trouble talking after all these
years, or that we would have grown in completely different ways! But,
look, we haven't stopped talking and it's already eleven o'clock.
Especially since our prime interest the last time was sex and boys, sex
and boys!" Her peels of laughter were infectious.
'Right, and look we haven't even talked about that. How's your sex
life, Em, wasn't that the way we used to say it?"
Emma got up to get more wine and Francesca couldn't help admiring the
full beautiful curve of her bottom under the tight white slacks. It was
simply a beautiful bottom, an artist would kill to be able to paint the
curves. She shook herself.
'Whoa, what is that about? she asked herself, laughing quietly to
herself. She also noticed that two buttons on the silk blouse were
unbuttoned. "Weren't they buttoned before? she asked herself.
"Well, since you ask, pretty good, I'd say. James and I have been
married for lo' these past fifteen years; fairly compatible, I'd say.
You've not married? How about lovers?"
"Well yes, they've come and gone, haven't found one yet I couldn't live
without I guess! No one I found worth giving up my privacy for. Some
very nice people though, for the most part. Maybe I'm too fussy?"
"Ugh, can't be too fussy about that subject! Anyone currently?"
"Not at the moment, I seem to need an occasional celibate season, I
guess that's what I'm in. Sound crazy?"
"Nope, being married has its down side, though I think we are fairly
happy. It is a long time between ........... well, how should I say it.
........... You don't get exactly stale, but something like that.
Sometimes you want something new and different to happen and it usually
doesn't. At least you can pick your poison -- even change it!" she
laughed.
"Yes, go onnnnnn! That sentence sounds like it needs a "but........" at
the end."
"Well, it doesn't matter really whether you are married or not, if your
bod says I want a new adventure, you will eventually do it, won't you?
I mean it just makes it a bit more complicated to be married, eh?" Emma
was getting borderline philosophical. She laughed and shook her head.
"What is going on, Em? Come on, you can tell me."
She slipped off her shoes and swung her feet up on the couch, slipping
her nylon covered toes under Francesca's thigh as if seeking warmth.
They had each done that same maneuver back in the old days; a sign of
affection and intimacy. Francesca felt the same warm glow it had given
her years ago. She waited for Emma to continue.
"Oh, never mind, what are we getting serious about? Remember when we
were twelve you were trying to decide to let Billy Bowman play with your
boobs or not? We sat there and play-acted for practice and I played
Billy? Then I put my arm around your neck like in the movies and put my
hand on your tit?"
"Yes, then we fell on the floor giggling so much that your mother came
up and wanted to know what was so funny?"
"Yeah, I was afraid she'd decide to throw a bucket of water on us!"
Emma guffawed.
"You must have been good, though, because I remember that on the next
Saturday, Billy got his dreams fulfilled! I thought he was going to
have a heart attack, he was so surprised!" Francesca squeezed the arch
of Emma['s foot, strangely attracted by the sleek nylon and warmth of
her friend's foot. She withdrew her hand quickly, regretting the
squeeze a little. Then, embarrassed at the feeling, she put her hand
back and squeezed again. They looked at each other and smiled happily.
"It is nice to be together again, isn't it, Francesca?"
"So, how about this James guy you married?"
"Oh, You'll like him; I'm sure. He's a true Texan. All oil man, as
they say. He's funny, easygoing, and actually quite sexy. This sounds
like a joke but is actually true. The only compatibility problem we
have had is size!" Emma giggled wildly.
"Size?"
"Yes, size, you remember when you had that theory that a boy's penis
size could be predicted by the size of his pointer finger? Well, wait
'til you shake hands with James!"
They fell about laughing on the couch, ending in a mutual hug.
Francesca was aware of her breast brushing Emma's and felt her nipple
bristle at the touch. It was strangely erotic, touching this old friend
even in this casual way. At least it should have been casual. "But why
this ticklish feeling in my stomach," she wondered.
Francesca had her coat on, ready to leave, when the door swung open and
the Texan himself strode in like the Marlboro man stepping off his
billboard.
"Hey, howdy, where y'all headed? I'm James, and you would be the famous
.......... Fran .....cesca????" He waited expectantly, his big open
smile and craggy good looks immediately making her feel comfortable, to
say nothing of the sincere blue eyes smiling into hers. He held out
his hand and she took it. Its size dwarfed hers and she turned to Emma
to greet the expected laughing face.
She slipped her hand around his pointer finger and squeezed. The two
women laughed and leaned against each other, weak from giggling while
James stood by with a quizzical look.
"Inside joke," Francesca, managed to gasp. "Good to meet you, James.
I'm too embarrassed to explain, but I'm sure my best friend won't be
able to keep her mouth closed, so next time we meet I'll be embarrassed
again! ............. Promise you won't hold it against me."
They nearly had to hold each other up with laughter as poor James stood
helplessly wondered what the hell was going on. He felt strangely left
out.
"Hey Frannie, remember at girl scout camp we had the sex lecture and got
scared that everyone would think we were queer if I kissed you, my very
best friend. And I said I'd have to take you behind the door to kiss
you? Want one behind the door before you go?" It had amused them then
and here tonight, the memory was fun again as Emma squeezed her behind
the door and planted a slightly wet kiss on her lips. Again that
tingling in her stomach. What the hell was that. A childhood crush
revisited? Good god, not with another girl?
Francesca was a little perplexed as she stepped onto the street and
stood waiting for a cab. A frown crossed her forehead as she pondered
the evening. It had been a sheer delight. What a treat to find that
the years could melt away and reveal an apparent soul mate. Seemed
impossible, but there was nothing about the evening that wasn't
................ well, ...... terrific. Impossible. But what about the
tingling sensation she kept getting from the closeness, and especially
the touching..........?
The cabby opened the door and asked "where to, Miss?" she started to
get in, then stopped. "Sorry, I changed my mind." She slammed the
door. She had spotted one of those white horse drawn hansom cabs.
"I need a new adventure, is this where you start? She asked the driver.
"You bet, hop in! What's your pleasure?" He dropped the lap robe
across her lap and tipped his hat before swinging up to his seat.
Francesca leaned back into the seat, inhaled the crisp fall air deeply
and thought over the events of the evening re-living the stories from
her teen years. She put her feet up on the other seat and leaned back,
her hands in her lap under the robe. The glow of the streetlights cast
their shadows as she passed. She found herself unbuttoning one button
of the tailored dress, rubbing slowly across her stomach and then
fondling the tuft of curls marking her prominent mound of Venus. (She
giggled at the old-fashioned romance novel term).
Slowly, she pulled her slip up until the warmth of her mound was under
her fingertips, the silkiness of her panties enhancing the sensual
feeling. Her finger slipped under the elastic and lace and found it's
way to the center crease of her body.
As she parted herself and slipped the finger along the very wet valley,
she muttered. "I thought so. You tramp! All lady on the outside, but
a tramp underneath it all."
"Beg pardon?" the driver turned.
"Oh, nothing, drive on! Just muttering to myself." She thought, 'if
you only knew.'
She gazed at the stars and continued her stoking and found her clitoris,
now rigid and longing for attention. She was very moist, ........ she
loved the feel of the creamy thick juices lubricating her way. With the
other hand she pulled the blanket up and cupped her generous breast,
remembering how her nipple had tingled when they had bumped
accidentally. 'It was accidentally, after all, that was the right word,
wasn't it?'
They hit a bump, her legs tensed, and then she felt it beginning. Her
fondling finger, rubbing from side to side rapidly now, was bringing a
rising warmth, a rattling, raging shudder up from the root of her
clitoris, up over her mound, the point of her body, into her stomach and
now exploding behind her breasts somewhere. Francesca clamped her legs
together and hung on as the big shudder of orgasm cascaded around her
body. She tensed her shoulders, seeming to squeeze her large breasts
together for their combined pleasure.
"Ohhhh!" she heard herself gasp, her eyes closed in pleasure.
"We're here miss. How did we do?"
"I beg your pardon?" she started, looking at him quizzically.
"How did we do? .......... I mean, at starting your new adventure?"
"Oh,........." she laughed, "Well, we'll see. We'll see. Very promising
so far, though. Very promising!!!"
She turned to go, then came back.
"Excuse me? Could I shake your hand for luck?" He extended his hand;
she found his pointer finger long and thick. She smiled at him. "Have
a good one!"
End of Chapter One
Comments to jbellamy@renman.net
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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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