General Copyright Disclaimers

Characters and backstory of Xena: Warrior Princess are the property of Renaissance/MCA/Studios USA.  This story is not meant to infringe upon their rights.  This story was not written for monetary gain.  Anything not copyrighted to the above mentioned parties is copyrighted to me.  If you wish to archive or link this story, please contact me.

Content Disclaimers

This story is rated R for sexual situations.

This story contains themes and descriptions of a loving, sexual relationship between two consenting adult women.  This story is intended for a mature audience with an open mind.  If it is illegal for you to read this story for any reason at all, please close this web page and find something that is legal for you to read.

Author's Note

This story came out of a gentle spring shower; something simple, but precious and God-given.


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Just Because

Copyright December 29, 1998

Just because it is raining, she asked me to find shelter. So, against my inclination to continue, I found this cave. There is nothing spectacular about it - it is simply a hole in a craggy rock face that was shaped some time long ago.

What made it special, however, was the smile she gave me when I guided her into its dry protection. What I would not do, to see that smile on her lips and that light in her eyes. I would die if it were asked of me.

After years of travelling with me, she has discovered this power that she holds over me. If I worshipped any gods, I would thank them that she is a sweet soul that would not take advantage of that power for her personal gain. Her only goals in life are to help people and to save an old warlord from the pits of Tartarus.

Gods or not, I silently thank her for that with every breath, for she is the closest thing to a divinity that I worship.

She has her faults - I am not deluded to that fact. She is impetuous at times; withdrawn in her own confusion at others. I do what I can to curb her rash decisions; I stand by helpless when I cannot comfort her in her times of desperate self-discovery. I can only be there for her to dry her tears and to offer my strong arms when her darkness calls.

As I lay out our bedrolls, I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She is innocently unaware of how she makes my heart beat faster; of how she tempts feelings buried deep within me for so long. This tender emotion that seizes my soul when I see her is almost as foreign to me as the love she so willingly offers me.

After seeing to our fire, she grins recklessly at me. I know what she plans next and my loins burn with memories of her doing the same in the past. I am ever grateful for the warmth of the summer rain as she quickly undresses and lays her damp clothing near the fire to dry. When she finishes her chore, I watch breathlessly as she stands and walks to the cave entrance. I smile crookedly at her graceful back when she steps out into the gentle shower.

I stand and watch openly as she raises her arms to the weeping sky. I lick my lips when her head falls back to accept the rain upon her face. She is the most beautiful thing I have seen and her innocent sensuality beckons to me.

In the past I always resisted the urge to go to her, but this time, I am defenseless. I endured the torture of being without her body for so many years that I surrender with a word for forgiveness to the gentle wind.

Instinctively, my fumbling fingers manage to remove the armor that shields my aching heart and the leathers that deny my body hers. I stumble silently towards her as she closes her eyes and begins to hum some nameless tune. The breeze stirs the fine hairs across my naked body as I answer her siren's song.

The notes drift to me as I get closer. As I approach, my other senses delight in the floral scent of her body and the golden glow of her skin. My hands itch to feel its satiny texture twitch in love's ecstasy.

I am so close to her now that I can feel the cool heat radiating from her body. I yearn to lean into it and feel myself burn from shared passion. If she knows this, if she hears or senses me, she does not indicate. She only continues to hum her soft song as the rain caresses her body.

I stand as close as I dare; I can feel the muscles of her back reaching out to me. I mirror her stance and raise my arms. My face, however, falls so that my eyes may drink in the sight of the wild tangle of her wet blonde hair. I am so consumed by her presence that I do not notice when her staff-coarsened hands curl around my forearms.

When she leans her body back into mine, however, I am jolted with the kisses of a thousand flames that scorch along my length. I sigh when her powerful shoulder muscles mold and shape my breasts to her desires. In contact with her, finally, I lose what little willpower she left me over the course of our friendship. I bury my face into her wild mane and I moan out her name. I need to tell her how my body cries out for her touch before I dissolve under her spell in the summer's sweet rain.

She responds with a whisper - a gentle calling of my name - and it stirs more than the passion that I barely contain. She calls forth from my soul the love I thought I had lost.

She easily guides my eager hands lower and closer to her body until we are both embracing her slight body. When she is sure that I will never let go of her, her delicate fingers begin to trace idle lines along my arms. And all the while, her face is raised to the sky and she continues to hum.

I lose myself in those sweet tones; never realizing that our bodies have picked up its haunting rhythm. We sway together as the rain comes a little harder, although neither of us seems to acknowledge the fact. I know only her and the song she begins to sing.

I was lost in the shadows of the night.
Then you came along and gave me light
To see by when I could not find my way.

My heart was dark 'til I met you.
You are blind to what you do
When I die on every word you say.

Come touch me now under the rain.
Soft blue fire that drives me insane;
My soul is the cost that I want to pay.

Her voice is low; the words are raw as she raises her own hands to cradle her breasts. I lower my chin to her shoulder so I may watch the erotic display. When she bends her head to the left, my lips naturally find that spot I've been aching to kiss. I feel her pulse speed up under my tongue as my eyes narrow in response to her growing ardor.

The scent of her need rises to tempt my animal passion and I growl to voice its intentions. Her only response is to seize her nipples between her fingers. As she pinches and pulls at the hardened nubs, I begin to consume whatever flesh is convenient while I watch. My left arm tightens around her defined abdomen; as the other begins a journey of discovery.

Still, we speak no words, although her humming has been reduced to long sensuous moans of pleasure. It is as if we have already spoken what was necessary before our bodies were surrendered to our love.

And so we stand here in the rain. Her head is now resting on my shoulder as my mouth pays tribute to any flesh it can reach. Her hands continue to stimulate her breasts and my one wandering hand is tracing lines over firm thighs. I long to feel her inner heat, but still, I am uncertain of our path. We can stop here and call it tenderness; we can continue and give voice to the truth of our desires.

The decision is taken out of my hands when she turns in my embrace. She pauses for a moment to look up at me; her green eyes are smoky with need. At once, she lifts her lips, presenting and then pressing as her body fuses with mine.

I tighten my arms around her back, afraid to let go of a promise. Part of me expects her to laugh temptingly and dance away. To my relief, however, she stands on her toes to get better leverage and she pulls me even closer. My fears are blown along the four winds when her tongue escapes to tickle along the throbbing width of mine.

In that moment, I open to her.

My mouth, my soul, my legs - they were all opened to her; they were from the moment I understood what she had done to me with her sweet words and gentle, friendly touches.

When she buries her fingers in my hair and begins to bite at my now-swollen lips, I know that it is going to be magnificent. My surrender will be my victory. Her love will be my prize…

…as we stand under a sweet summer shower just because we all need to let go sometimes.


The End

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