Falling Leaves

It's getting cold here now, and it was when the leaves were just turning from a lush green to mottled yellows and golds that it happened for the first time. But we were only 14 then, and the first tumultuous rush of puberty was settling down into an afterglow of developing womanhood for both of us.

It was inevitable we compared ourselves I suppose. We were similar on most ways, but I had the smaller breasts while Anna had curvier hips.

It was perhaps inevitable that sleepovers became more than two friends snuggling down for the night, and I remember as if it were yesterday the first touch of her hand on my thigh and the tentative spreading of my legs as she worked up to that secret place between them. I can recall with absolute clarity how I felt the gentlest pressure of her hand and how, in response, I opened my legs a little further each time, nervous, unknowing, yet terrified she would stop until her fingers brushed the soft moist cotton of my panties.

It felt wonderful to have my very first orgasm into her hand and to have her convulse against me with her own release. That first time, that first exploration with each other became more than two girls experimenting. The rush of sex gave way to love. Oh, not in a burning torrent of passion, but like a slow ember, our lust for each other grew into a real, soul-mate love.

When we were 17, I couldn't bare to be apart from her or she from me. We both took University courses that we were not really interested in so that we could be with each other. Anna, of course, effortlessly gaining a First, while I struggled my way to a 2:2.

We explored not only our bodies, but our fantasies, and when Anna wanted to experience sex with a boy, even though it cut me deeply, she did so with my blessing. Afterwards, we fell into each other's arms. She weeping and apologising and me hungry to make her mine again. It felt totally right as my fingers slipped inside her, that the boys sperm was covering me too. We shared everything, Anna and I. We talked that night of the future, of how I would have 'her' baby when she would go out, make love with a man and come home and inseminate me in an act of love.

We made love outdoors, in the libraries, on the sports pitches, and even when I begged her to tie me up and whip me, she did so with such unutterable love. We explored the edges of perversity and sometimes, purely by accident, like the afternoon in the woods when Anna got the giggles and laughed so much she wet herself. As she stood there, her skirt up and pee running down her legs, the moment changed from frivolity to absolute lust. I pushed her onto her back and sat across her hips. I leaned forward and kissed her, my hand cupping her breast. In my mind I was thinking how much I would like to pee my own panties right onto her. How typical that she broke the kiss and looked up into my eyes and said 'Oh yes. Please. Do it.' She knew. As we kissed, our hands on each other's breasts with our t shirts pushed up, I let the tension build until I slowly released. Ohhhhh the feeling of it, and it was enough to make us both cum.

Oh, she would dominate me and me her. We would be strong, masterful. We would even draw blood sometimes, but each time led to such complete fulfilment. I knew without a word how she wanted to make love, whether tenderly, slowly, or passionately and urgently. Have you ever torn a girls pantyhose off her and practically raped her with your tongue and fingers? Making Anna cum so hard she would lose all control and soak me was the ultimate accolade. The cathedral of her sex weeping its benediction of her love onto my body.

Nothing was forbidden. Even at that time of the month, we would hold, kiss, cuddle and talk. Oh yes, how we talked. Anna could use her voice and her voice alone to drive me to orgasm, and I could do the same to her.

We would watch each other masturbate over and over, time after time, noticing each subtle nuance, each slight change in taste and behaviour. If you really want to know your lover, watch them masturbate to orgasm.

We both had piercings done on the same day. Nipple rings and a clit ring each. Oh how THAT added to our masturbation. We would sleep, a thin gold chain linking through all our piercings, joining us through the night and waking us with burning desire the next morning.

It is getting cold here now. As cold as it was when we knew she would leave me. As cold as it was hearing the news from the consultant. Yet her leaving was far from cold. She packed a lifetime of love into those eight short months, and at the end, she left me so gently, with her head on my breast and her arm around me.

It's getting cold here now, and soon the snow will fall. I come here often to her small space that will be forever hers. I won't brush the snow away, as she always liked the smooth whiteness 'A renewal of virginity' she called it.

Few have or will ever have what we had, and few will ever know the completeness of one soul in two bodies. Anna is still here, in every breath, every movement. When I masturbate it is for her as much as for me.

Am I sad? How can I be? That such a person lived, and that she loved me is enough.