When she returned back from Paradise, she found herself wrapped lovingly in the nest of the redhead’s arms, being comforted softly.
“Are ye alright Sweet
Lydia?” Alexia asked in concern.
“Aye, never better. You
didn’t not tell me of the wonder between two people Alexia.”
“I dinna ken it dear one.
Twas nae like that before. Just wi’ ye,” her voice wondrous.
“Truly?” Lydia asked,
thinking it over. “Perhaps it is different with each coupling,”
“I think it twas different
because we love one another sweet Lydia. Surely God would only bless those who
truly loved in this manner.”
“Did you find pleasure in it
when the woman from the camp touched you the same way?” Lydia asked, curious.
“She dinna touch me. I
touched her and nothing more.”
“Then you didn’t find
Paradise in her arms as I have with you?” she asked, surprised
“Nay, I enjoyed her pleasure
in it, but twas all,” the redhead explained.
Lydia turned within the
larger woman’s arms, gently urging her onto her back. “Then it is fine time for
you to experience it for yourself.” Seeking Alexia’s mouth, she kissed her
firmly. Surprised at the taste of her own passion upon her lips, her breathing
turned ragged.
Her hand stroked the woman
below her, finally settling on one generous breast. Drawn to them for some
time, she couldn’t help but moan as her hand kneaded the soft mound, feeling it
overflow her small hand. Alexia’s moan was muffled by her own mouth and she
thrummed from the sound of it. Lydia felt a large hand covering her own as she
squeezed the breast but it didn’t guide her.
Thus encouraged, her fingers
lightly took the pebbled nipple between them, pinching it softly. Alexia broke
the kiss as her body arched high.
“Ye God and little fishies!”
she shouted. Lydia chuckled and gave it another pinch, much enjoying the way
her lover behaved.
A bolt of pure desire shot
throughout her body each time Lydia performed her sweet torture.
“Ye are trying to kill me!”
she complained with a strained laugh. The seamstress felt a giggle bubble up
inside of her. “Nay,” kissing the tip of her nose, “But I do want to send you
to Paradise,” she smiled. Pushing up a tad, she slid her body downward until
her mouth could seek the breast’s sister. Her lips found the peak and chased
after as it hid in the soft cushion of Alexia’s breast. Suckling upon it hard,
the nipple slipped into her mouth and was greedily kept. She worried the
nipple, pushing it roughly against her teeth with her tongue. Alexia’s hands on
her shoulders kept the slight woman from being flung from the bed as the
redhead reacted, shouting the Lord’s name.
Alexia was on fire. Her hips
pressed at Lydia’s leg, trying to ease the ache there. She needed more. Barely
able to think, she took the hand at her breast away and guided it down to where
she wanted it. Lydia lifted her mouth from her pleasing task and looked down,
“What would you have me do?”
“Touch me there, please!”
“Here?” Lydia asked as her
fingers rubbed against slick flesh. The redhead didn’t—couldn’t answer. Her
hips flew upwards, seeking relief from the need inside. Her body writhed from
the gentle rubbing as she gasped and moaned. Her body sought the Paradise Lydia
spoke of but it eluded her.
“I need…Lydia,” remembering
what she had once done to Molly, “put your fingers inside of me!”
“But…I shall hurt thee!” she
said fearfully.
“Nay, I be not a virgin.
Please Lydia!” Alexia reminded her, legs spreading wider.
Nervous fingers traced her
opening and tentatively pressed inside a little. “More!”
Holding her breath, Lydia
pushed two fingers deeper into her spouse, praying she caused her no harm.
Alexia’s hips rose to meet the inward thrust and moaned in ecstasy. Relieved
that her action was welcomed, she slowly began gently thrusting them in and
out. A steady motion began. Once comfortable with the rhythm and how Alexia
moved with it, her lips sought out the other nipple and teased it.
Callused fingers began
moving along her back as an encouraging monolog spilt from Alexia’s lips. As time
passed Lydia wondered why Alexia didn’t yet find her Paradise. Looking up at
her face she saw the redhead was somehow fighting it.
“Alexia, come here love,”
she whispered. Shifting her body, she drew the tall woman to her, rolling her onto
her side, her flushed face in the crook of her neck. Lydia’s free arm wrapped
around her caringly, caressing her nape and hair. Alexia put her arm around
loosely about her upper arm. Now settled comfortably, her fingers began their
soft thrusting once more. The seamstress brushed soft kisses along Alexia’s
shoulder and neck, whispering tender words into her ear.
The powerful woman in her
arms panted and whimpered, still fighting the ending to the sweet torment.
“Let it happen love, let it
happen. Tis sweet, I promise you.” The woman in her arms trembled yet couldn’t quite let go. “I have you
dearling, I’m with you, now and for always,” her voice promised.
Lydia felt her spouse
shatter and tumble over the crest they had both sought. Sobbing, Alexia clung
to her tightly, seeking comfort even in the throes of passion. Kissing away her
tears, Lydia held her gently and waited out the storm. When the larger woman
took a deep breath and stopped shaking, Lydia withdrew her fingers.
“I’ll be right back love.”
Standing, she poured some heated water into the basin. Washing her hands then
wetting a cloth, she returned to their bed. She gently cleansed the limp woman
and slipped the coverlets over her. Rinsing the cloth, she bathed her own self
and got into bed. Alexia didn’t move so she settled into her accustomed spot on
the large woman’s shoulder. Automatically, an arm wrapped around her and lips
pressed a kiss to her brow.
“Alexia, do you-“
“Nay, not right now. I be as
limp as that rag ye tossed into the basin,” she murmured.
“Then sleep love, sleep.”
The seamstress was the first
to awaken. As the memories of the night before replayed in her mind, she smiled
and cuddled closer to the warm woman who pillowed her. Her hands lazily
caressed the redhead, just enjoying the freedom to do so. Her palm brushed over
the soft breast and played with it, grinning as the nipple puckered at her
touch. She pressed it down with her forefinger, watching it spring back up. Her
pillow began bouncing.
“What are ye doing silly
woman?” she grinned, running her large palm over Lydia’s back and kissing her
hair.
“Just playing. It’s fun to
watch it rise up like a loaf of bread.”
“So I be yer food now
wench?”
“Yes!” the smaller woman growled,
pouncing on her spouse’s breast enthusiastically with her mouth. She hungrily
sucked and bit on it, the playfulness gone the moment she could hear Alexia’s
moan of pleasure as it was dragged out of her. Within seconds, the women were
burning frantically out of control. Lydia took the other breast, suckling on it
hard, craving every strangled cry her lover made. Her body thrashed under her.
Driven with the need to feel her lover fully respond to her, her fingers
followed a twitching stomach until she found the dampness she wanted.
Hips lifted, eager for her
touch. Hard fingers slid roughly past wet curls and found the place she knew
drove Alexia wild. Her fingers took control of the pleading woman, stroking her
feverishly. Alexia was panting hard, her body out of control. Just as she was
about to fly off into the heavens, the fingers stopped, hovering teasingly.
Alexia begged for her to continue.
“Look at me love,” Lydia’s
voice demanded gently. Alexia forced open her eyes, seeing the love she had
wished for since the very beginning glowing in those amber eyes. “You’re mine.”
Her honey voice asked and stated at the same time. Alexia nodded. “And I’m
yours,” she whispered as her fingers merely stroked her lightly. It was all it
took. The redhead screamed out Lydia’s name in pleasure, her soul scattering
into the heavens from the intensity.
Caring arms were holding her
when she opened her eyes. It took long minutes before she had the breath to
speak.
“Aye, ye are trying to kill
me,” she grinned. Lydia laughed and ruffled her damp hair.
They were not quite sure how
they did it, but they were both crammed into the small oaken tub. The bathwater
threatened to slosh over the rim with every movement. The women giggled as they
attempted to bathe one another.
“Have you thought of what we
shall do Alexia?” Lydia asked as Alexia soaped her belly.
“Och, not really. I was too
worried about what ye wanted to do,” she confessed.
Hearing something hiding the
words, she twisted her body to look at the ex-soldier’s face.
“What I wanted to do?” she
asked gently. “Like what?”
Alexia’s face turned pale. “I
was worried that ye wanted to part ways,” Alexia whispered. Lydia sighed.
“That was my fault Alexia. I
never told you how I felt before last night.”
“I could hae asked,” she
reminded her, “but I didn’t. Twas too much of a coward I suppose. I dinna want
to hear it if ye wanted away from me. The verra idea nearly killed me inside.”
Tears rimmed in her eyes.
“Never, dearling,” she
vowed. “God brought us together, and until he takes one of us home, we’ll stay
together. And thank you, Alexia.”
“For what sweet Lydia?”
“For bringing me home to
Him. For your belief that He is a loving God. I grew up thinking I should be
afraid of him instead of being one of His beloved children. My faith has become
a comfort, not a rod of punishment to fear. You gave me that.”
“Ye are most welcomed sweet
Lydia,” giving her a warm hug.
The mood became too solemn.
“Brr, the water is turning cold. Help me rinse off.”
Taking a bucket from near
the stove, Alexia poured clean water over her spouse. Lydia raised both hands
to push away the wet hair from her face. Naughty hands immediately took
possession of her breasts.
“Beast! Have you no shame?”
she laughed.
“Nay, and ye love me
anyway,” she teased, bending down to nibble on an ear. Lydia leaned back,
giving her lover better access, then squealed when they suddenly fell
backwards. The oaken tub had fallen apart on one side, toppling the bathers and
tossing the water across the room.
“We need a new tub,” Lydia
grinned.
“Aye, a larger one,” Alexia
deadpanned.
“James is asking everyone if
they want to stay on,” Lydia told Alexia. “although he isn’t offering nearly
what Jonathon had promised you,” she warned.
“What good is working for so
little? I had hoped to open my own shop eventually, but Allen will be leaving
for England on the first ship. I’m not fully trained yet.”
“Could you find work with a
blacksmith in Boston?”
“Probably, if I paid him an
apprenticeship fee.” Alexia sighed heavily. “But I hate large towns. They stink
and there is no room to move about. I suppose I could just become a farmer.”
“I can’t see you being
content as one,” Lydia said honestly. The redhead nodded, glad her spouse
didn’t push her in that direction.
“Has there ever been
something you wanted to do love?” the seamstress asked, curious. Then watched
as her friend blushed. “What? Tell me! It can’t be that bad,” she asked,
piqued.
“Well, I always wanted
to…well, always wanted to learn how to make church windows.”
“Stained glass? Why does
that make you blush Alexia?” The large redhead shrugged uncomfortably.
“Don’t tell me, your loving
father.” Lydia knew from her friend’s stories how he would mock every dream she
had. The pious woman would smack the man soundly if he were still alive.
She sat down and rested her
cheek on Alexia’s shoulder. “I think it is a grand dream. I say we borrow a
carriage and go into Boston. There may be a glass worker there. It couldn’t
harm anything to speak with him,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows, silently
asking what her mate thought.
“I doubt I could grow rich
doing it,” Alexia said nervously.
“I don’t care. I’ll sew for
extra money. We may not be rich, but we’ll be together.” She said simply,
taking away the excuse.
They visited the bank where
Jonathon had opened an account for each of them, withdrawing enough to stay for
a few days in the town. Never before having so much money, Alexia stared at it.
“This is more money than my
father ever earned in his life,” she said dumbfounded. “Do we really need this
much?”
“Not really, but I want you
to buy some new clothing before you speak with the glassworker,” Lydia
explained. Her spouse looked strong and capable, dressed as she had always
done. But the seamstress wanted the glass worker to see Alexia as refined as
well. She knew well the gentle and dedicated person she was. Lydia knew naught
of glassblowing but could imagine it took both traits to work with glass.
Nodding in resignation at
the idea of shopping, the redhead held out her arm to her wife.
Alexia stepped out of the
dressing chamber, the expression on her face bemused.
“What do ye think Mrs.
Browne?” she asked, bowing slightly.
Lydia’s wide grin was
infectious. “You look like a young dandy in those clothes. La, look at thee!” Alexia
chuckled and looked into the large looking glass.
Before her stood a lad
dressed in a costly navy blue coat and breeches. Normally only the wealthier
owned clothing of such a color. Blue, red, and pure black were costly because
of the dye. Beneath her outer coat was a waist coat of pale cream, embroidered with
delicate flowers. Her stockings matched the vest, and upon her feet, newly
polished shoes gleamed.
“Quite striking Mr. Browne,”
the clothier said, brushing off a piece of lint from her coat.
“Tis time I think, to pay a
call upon the glazier—before I lose my nerve.”
The glazier, Phineas Douglas, stared at the towering boy,
wondering why he thought he’d make a good apprentice to such work. His hands
were large and rough, no doubt clumsy as well.
“Nay, I currently have no
apprentice, but have thee no other work? Thou look like a strapping lad.”
“Mr. Douglas, I came to the
Colonies as an indentured servant two years ago. My master was having me learn smithing
until he recently died. It was nae my work of choice.” Alexia saw that the man
wasn’t willing to take her on and changed her tactics.
“Let me be honest wi’ ye.
Since I was a small lad, I have been in love with stained glass. I understand
ye do little of it, but I would like to learn from ye. I hae the means to pay
my apprenticeship fees. I will work hard and diligently for ye. Once I am a
journeyman, I willna compete wi’ ye but move to another place to specialize in
colored glass.”
The redheaded lad waited
patiently as Phineas tucked his chin low, considering her words. He did want an
apprentice. The last two boys proved unfit for such work. Alex Browne was a bit
older than most new apprentices, but he was wed, and perhaps more settled. He made a decision and looked up.
“ I cannot offer more than a
small salary and housing for thee and your wife. There are quarters above not
in use. I will give thee four months to prove yourself Mr. Browne. Either thee
have the talent for such work or thee do not. Only time will tell. In addition,
I could use what skills thee have in iron working. Some prefer iron to wood
frames for their glass plating. I possess a small forge in the rear of the shop
and I could easily acquire an anvil. You will be expected to work from sunup to
sundown, with the Sabbath free to do as thee will. The workdays during winter
shall be shorter of course. I will not burn costly candles after dark unless
necessary.
“If thee prove skilled
enough at the end of the four months, I will begin teaching thee the art of
stain glass. Is this satisfactory Mr. Browne?”
“Aye! And thank ye Mr. Douglas!”
Alexia gushed gratefully.
“Fine. How much time do thee
need to make arrangements to arrive?”
“Perhaps five days time Mr.
Douglas. We must pack our possessions and rent a wagon before returning to
Boston.”
“Hmm, and it will take at
least a day to prepare the quarters upstairs. I’m afraid they have been unused
for several years.”
“Well, my wife and I could
begin cleaning them this afternoon. We need not leave Boston until the morn.”
Alexia suggested.
“Tis fine with me. I will
open the windows and shutters to air the rooms. Until this afternoon Mr.
Browne.”