The Storm by patricia51

(The third of my Denise/Claudia Joy stories, following first "The Moment" and then "What Now?" It takes place a couple of weeks after the latter. Femslash. The characters are property of Lifetime TV. Denise's POV.)

There's a rumble of distant thunder. As I zip up my jacket I look through the window and see the glow of lightning on the horizon. The light is bright and sharp against the dark and brooding clouds.

I have no business going out in this, least of all on my bike. I can see the bushes and treetops already shivering in the strengthening breeze but I can't just sit here anymore. No matter how it goes I have got to see Claudia Joy and find out just where, if anywhere, the two of us are going. I can't take this halting unsure friendship anymore. I can't accept the artificial smiles we give each other, the pleasant nods, the meaningless remarks.

Just two days ago we were all gathered at Roxy's place. I chatted with Roxy, with Trevor, Pamela and Joan, with others who dropped in throughout the afternoon. And Claudia Joy and I danced about the room; talking to everyone else and looking at everyone else. Except out of the corners of our eyes. She would watch me and I would watch her. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs and I nearly walked into a door frame as I drank in the view of them. By the time I got home I spent an extra fifteen minutes in the shower, imagining her with me.

I was the one who crossed the line and I may have ruined the best friendship I have ever had but that's moot now. I dream about her at night, I fantasize about her during the day. We have to clear the air. One way or another I have to know.

I open the door and stop. I didn't even hear her drive up. But there she is, standing on the front porch, her hand still raised to knock. For a moment I'm seized with an insane desire to laugh at the sight. It fades away instantly as my heart leaps in my throat. I step back and with a gesture invite her in, closing the door after her.

She turns and we look at each other. She's dressed in a white springtime outfit again; blouse, skirt and heels. I can see the pulse beating in her throat and I swallow.

I cannot think of a single word to say. Neither can she. I just look in her eyes. Those beautiful deep eyes, swimming with emotion. Finally I simply reach out and touch her face with my fingertips, stroking her cheek gently. Still holding our gaze she turns her head slightly and kisses my fingers. That slight touch of her lips runs all the way through my body. I can feel my toes curl inside my boots.

I trace the line of her jaw with one finger. It glides down to the hollow of her throat and then to the opening of her blouse. Joined by my thumb I twist the top button of her blouse and it slips from the button hole. She shivers but makes no move to stop me. One after another I release those button until her blouse is open to her waist. Her bra is white too; white lace and I can see the darkness of her nipples through the material.

My palms settle on her stomach. It's just a bit soft, showing the signs of her age and of the children she's had but also the exercise she does to keep that softness at bay. I rub gently, in small circles that get bigger. My hands slide around her waist, pulling her blouse free. My fingers find the zipper to her skirt and draw it down.

She moans, the first real sound either of us have made. She wiggles just a bit and her skirt falls to pool at her feet. She takes one step forward, to me, leaving that skirt and her heels behind. Her bra is front opening. A quick twist of my fingers and it falls open and she shakes it down her arms. Now only a pair of skimpy white bikini panties clothe her. A flash of lightning, much closer now, makes her look almost ghostly. Her body is so white, set off by the brown of her nipples and the darkness of her hair falling around her shoulders and the hint of the triangle between her legs.

Claudia Joy reaches for me. I capture her wrists and guide her hands to my jacket. She unzips it and waits while I shrug out of it. When I threw my clothing on after my shower I hadn't bothered with a bra. She pulls my tank top over my head and my breasts spill free. She unsnaps my jeans and struggles to unzip them and push them down my hips.

I take the opportunity to touch her. Just barely. The tips of my fingers meet the tips of her nipples. This time the gasp from her is echoed by a deeper one from me. The thunder is so near now. The storm is building and about to descend on us. Her fingers graze my thighs as she slides my jeans down my legs. I lean back against the door and manage to lever my boots off so that when the denim finally falls I can get out of them. I reach down and pull off my socks.

Claudia Joy looks me up and down, just as I have been doing to her since she walked in the door. Hell, since that first kiss we shared weeks ago. A slight grin crosses her face and amazingly I feel myself turning red. I know what she's looking at. I'm wearing a tiny black thong. The scrap of lace that's the center has worked it way between my legs until now it's not only not hiding anything, it's accentuating me.

Before I can stammer anything she's right up before me. Our bodies are still not touching but the heat from her is coming in waves over me, making my head spin. I can feel her fingers on my hips, running along the thong, first back to where it disappears into my bottom and then forward to my belly.

She stands on her tiptoes and I have just a moment to marvel at the flexing of her legs before her face blots everything else and she kisses me. The kiss turns open mouthed at once. Then thunder crashes right around us and the winds blow the rain against the roof and I seize her in a passionate grip. The storm is upon us, outside and here at the same time.

Our mouths lock. I can feel her heart hammering, nearly as hard as my own is. Our bodies plaster together. We kiss deeply, break that kiss to shower each other's faces and necks with more kisses and then our mouths close on each other again. We reel across the room and down the hall to my bedroom, never losing touch with each other. I have dreamed so long about this. We topple onto the bed together, our bodies straining against each other. As the winds and rain pound the house we explore one another's bodies.

Neither her lace panties nor my thong are much of a barrier as we make love. They're gone in seconds after we fall into bed together. I spend literally hours exploring every inch of the body I have desired for so long now. And she returns the favor. Before the storm has gone outside the one inside has exhausted us both and we fall asleep in each other's arms.

When morning comes she dresses and leaves as first light creeps across the bedroom. Words have not been needed. When she goes the touch she gives me and the kiss promise that no matter what happens, this is not the end of us. I want to tell her that I love her, but I look in her eyes as she pauses just before leaving and I know that I don't have to do that. She knows. And I know too.

(The End)