<strong>Susan Cochrane<br/>4855 Pinetree<br/>Alone with Cherry, feeling poleaxed  </strong><br/><br/>Susan heard the door shut behind her.  Dimly.  If she hadn't been wearing a bra under her t-shit, her nipples would have shown through like headlights.  The look in Linda's eyes left her no doubt at all that everything she had been thinking about since helping the fighter out of that pit could come true right this very instant.<br/><br/>Her slight tremor had vanished, it always did when her adrenaline was up.  Boy was it ever.<br/><br/>But that bruise really did need looking too, and a massage to work out the kinks from that fight... an excuse.  Damian was quite capable of giving her a trainer's rubdown, he obviously had no trouble treating her like a daughter, a fighter, not a....<br/><br/>Lover.<em> Five months.  Five months since I kissed a woman, touched a woman that way, let her touch me.</em><br/><br/>Susan looked around again and sighed.  "The bench, Linda.  Face down.  Fold your arms and pillow our head on them."  It was low to the ground, she could straddle it and her without sitting on her hips, wouldn't put stress on the body, wouldn't pull at the bruised muscles, wouldn't  feel Linda's firm ass against her mound.  She fished a small bottle of unscented baby oil out of her bag, dabbed a little on her palms, just enough to smooth her touch, allow her hands to glide across that taut skin.<br/><br/>It was taut, all right.  feet on either side of the bench, leaning down, putting some of her weight on the hands tha started on Linda's shoulders, fingers gripping, kneading along the sides of the neck, working to the points of the shoulders, back, gliding across the back of the neck, thumb on each side of the spine moving down, down, say down  all the way to the beginnings of the part in Linda's rear, then heading back up in a slow firm glide.<br/><br/>The cost, what it cost her to not run her hands across the globes of that lovely derriere.<em>Do the job, give her what she needs, then I'll worry about what we both want.</em><br/><br/>She moved out from the spine a half palms-width on either side and another slow glide down, and back up, firm, gentle pressure.  But not tender.  Shift out a half palm, down and up again.  Very slowly, rinse and repeat until she had covered the back, was getting close to that bruise..  Forget that side, long slow srokes of her hand, dabbing a little more oil on her hands, woriing the knots out of that side.<br/><br/>"OK Linda."  her voice was steady, a bit thick, but steady.  "I'm going to work on that bruise some, and this will hurt a bit.  Don't play Iron Woman, let me know if it's too much, you hear?"<br/><br/>She swung her leg over, knelt on the fighter's wounded side.  "Nasty.  With what little you wear in the pit, it just screams Hit Me Here."  Her fingers probed , kneaded, massaged,  she dipped into her medical bag again, came out with a blue capped jar.  "Blue Emu oil,  It seems to work, yo can have this jar."  She worked some into the bruise, very very gently.  "OK, it looks worse than it is.  You wouldn't have been able to go into that V pose if it was too deep in the muscle.  But whoever you go up against is gonna try to hammer you there, it'll draw the eyes as well as the fist."  Susan gave her a light kiss on the cheek and whispered in her ear "Use that.  Play it up, you know they'll be aiming there, you can mess 'em up with a riposte.  But you already know that don't you, you little shark."<br/><br/>Susan went into her standing straddle pose, working her way down on the right thigh.  Starting just ust below that magnificent ass.  If she touched that, there was no going back from what they both wanted to happen.  That smooth thigh was bad enough.<em> My nips are going to explode right through my bra and my shirt.</em>And by the time she had worked her slow way down to the back of the fighters right knee, Sue suspected that "soaking  her panties" might be more than just a figure of speech.  By the time she was gently tugging on Linda's toes with her fingertips, she was sure of it.  And when she finished working her way up Cherry's left leg, pausing with her finger tips just brushing round flesh she insanely wanted to bury her face in, she might have been capable of babbling incoherency  if somebody had asked her a question.<br/><br/>Well.  This was it.  No going back from this.  Linda had a dreamy smile on her face, her eyes half closed, enjoying the touch.  And turned on as well, Susan didn't doubt it at all.  But not as much as the medic was.  Susan took a breath and placed a hand - hands that were not trembling, she was happy to note - on each cheek, and her fingers started to work, to knead, her palms stroked.<br/><br/>The same firm, neutral touch as on the back and legs.  But this was different and they both knew it.  Susan covered every inch of round flesh with her hands, slowly, repeatedly, circular strokes this time.  And the way Linda was rolling her hips was so delightful.<br/><br/>The bed was just over there.  Susan had taken her time with this, she didn't know how long it had taken, didn't remotely care.  Linda was smiling, looking at her, looking at the bed.  Well.  Susan reached behind her and tugged her shoes off, her short socks off, stood up and hauled her t-shirt over her head, reached behind her, unhooked her strapless bra, let it fall.  She had tan lines, she sunbathed on the roof of her apartment building when she could, but not nude not in that part of town.  Nothing like the unlined skin she saw below her.  She unbuttoned her light khaki pants, pulled them down, pulled her panties down with them, stepped out of the clothing pooled at her feet.<br/><br/>She reached down and took Linda's hand, helped her rise to her feet, and held her, just held her close, one leg slightly forward, pushing between Linda's thighs, face buried in her hair, just holding her, feeling her, taking in her scent.<br/><br/>And with no clothes in the way, it was just as glorious as she had hoped it would be.