Trading Places

A couple of hours later both women lay naked on Erica’s bed, relaxed and sated.

“We have to talk,” Erica said. “We should discuss…”

“I know. Wait.” Franky interrupted. She got up from the bed and put on her knickers and shirt. “You got a coffee machine?”

“Yes. Would you like me to…”

“Nuh, I’ll figure it out,” Franky finished buttoning up her shirt so her breasts were no longer on display. “Coffee machines are one of my many areas of expertise.” Franky winked at Erica then retreated from the bedroom and walked to the kitchen. Erica could soon hear the sound of coffee grinding. She followed Franky’s lead and put her knickers back on and wrapped herself in a satin robe.

When Erica reached the kitchen Franky had just finished making two espressos. “All done,” she said. “Where do you want ‘em?”

“How about we sit on the couch?” Erica gestured to the living area.

“No worries,” Franky took the espressos and placed them on coasters on the coffee table then took a seat on the lounge suite.

Erica put some almond croissants on a plate and brought them over to join her. “I bought these this morning from a cafe downstairs,” she said.

“Expecting company were you?” Franky replied cheekily. Erica smiled and blushed but didn’t respond, placing the croissants on the coffee table.

Franky discovered she was ravenous. She ate her first croissant at lightning speed and quickly picked up a second. Her eating was interrupted only to take an occasional sip of her coffee. For a few minutes she and Erica ate and drank in silence. When she had finished her second croissant Franky looked over at Erica who had only eaten half of her first. She leaned forward and took a flake of croissant off Erica’s lower lip.

“We’ve got to talk,” Erica said again. Franky waited. “I mean, we should catch up on things. What have you been up to since you were released from Wentworth? It looks like things are going well for you?”

Franky smiled broadly. She wasn’t going to make things easy for Erica. “Nah, we can talk about me later. You wanna catch up then you go first. What have you been up to since you were released from Wentworth?”

Erica gave a frustrated sigh but she played along with a smile. “Well, as far as work goes, I threw myself back into law as soon as I left. I worked at a couple of private firms, focused on criminal law. And for the past year I’ve worked at the Legal Aid office in the city.”

“Impressive. Still a softy for the disadvantaged, then?”

Erica laughed softly. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.” She felt slightly foolish that she had only just got to telling Franky this basic information about herself. A few minutes ago they’d been making love and staring into each other’s eyes with rapt attention. It was almost surreal.

“What happened to the lucky guy?” Franky didn’t muck around, quickly changing to the topic that she was most curious about..

Erica furrowed her brow questioningly.

“I take it the lucky guy isn’t so lucky anymore?” Franky continued. She pointed to Erica’s left ring finger. “No rock.”

“Oh right,” Erica looked down at her coffee cup. “We broke up not long after I was forced to resign from Wentworth.” She took a deep breath. “I guess losing my job wasn’t a big enough life change for me. I decided to break up with my fiancé, too,” she added in a sarcastic tone.

Franky laughed. “Well it was a good move, I say. i never met the bloke but it’s obvious he wasn’t the one for you.”

“Yes, well it only took me ten years to figure that out.”

“Ten years? Fuck!”

“Yes, yes, I know. Anyway it’s over now and I’m just glad I came to my senses eventually.” Erica paused, then decided to ask about the topic she was most curious about, too. “What about your girlfriend? How long have you been together?”

It was Franky’s turn to look down at her coffee. Even though she had been the one to tell Erica that she had a girlfriend, the thought of talking about it made her feel sick with guilt. It was almost as if talking about Bridget behind her back was an even bigger betrayal than sleeping around behind her back. Her fingers began to tremble slightly as they gripped the coffee cup.

“Look, sorry, but I don’t wanna get into all of that.” She leaned back on the couch and sighed heavily. “I know this is wrong my being here with you when I’m living with another woman. I spent the weekend deciding that I should never see you again. But I also spent that whole time knowing that I couldn’t stay away. What’s going on between me and you has nothing to do with my relationship with my girlfriend.” She sipped her coffee. “That’s all you need to know.”

Erica placed her hand on Franky’s knee. “Of course, I’m sorry Franky, I didn’t mean…”

Franky finished the last of her drink and placed the cup back on the table. “Don’t worry about it.” She leant forward into Erica’s personal space. “So are we done talking now?”

Erica put both hands on Franky’s chest to stop her advance. “Just one more thing,” Franky sat back on the couch with a huff. “Franky I need to know if you got my letter. The letter I sent you just after I left Wentworth.” She looked at Franky with trepidation.

Franky had gotten the letter. She found it under her pillow a week after Erica had left. It had clearly not gone through the usual prison channels. Not only had it been delivered to her bed, but the envelope was sealed and untampered with so it mustn’t have been read by the screws. If she hadn’t been so familiar with Erica’s handwriting from their many months of tutoring she probably wouldn’t have believed it was actually from her. Franky could still remember exactly what it said.

Franky,

I apologise for leaving - I didn’t jump, I was pushed. If you want to reach me I will be working at a law firm called Staden & Jameson. I sincerely hope you continue with your studies and stay on track for your parole.

Erica

P.S. I don’t regret our last meeting.

The postscript was undoubtedly the most memorable part of the letter for Franky. To her it confirmed what she had always known. Erica had feelings for her, wanted her, and she had enjoyed their kiss in the governor’s office. Those six words had given Franky hope for a future with Erica.

But that was a long time ago. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since then. And right now Franky didn’t want to let on to Erica the affect the letter had had on her. She played it cool.

“Yeah I got it. How’d ya manage to sneak that in?”

Erica gave a proud smile. “I had a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“You’ve still got a few tricks up your sleeve,” Franky grinned flirtatiously.

Erica ignored the tease. “Well I’m glad to hear it made it to you.”

“Yep, it did. Thanks heaps.”

Erica looked at Franky questioningly. “Why didn’t you respond?”

Franky sighed. She was thinking on her feet but she thought it would be easiest not to tell Erica about the letters she had written in response. Maybe she would eventually. But the heartache of discovering the letters were confiscated by Channing and subsequently read by Ferguson - and who knows who else - was something she definitely didn’t feel like rehashing at that moment. Plus, she figured Erica would probably want to know what was in them. Amongst other things, Franky had shared many sexual fantasies in those letters. There was no need to tell her about them. She’d much prefer to just act them out.

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “Just decided to focus on my parole.”

“I understand,” Erica said solemnly, nodding her head.

The blonde had a worried look on her face. Franky could tell she had hundreds more questions about everything that had happened in Franky’s life since they last saw each other at Wentworth. But Franky had become more in touch with how her own mind worked in their time apart. She knew talking about the past was bound to bring up negative emotions - anger, sadness, disappointment, more guilt. She intended to enjoy this day for what it was. And she knew a surefire way to get Erica to stop asking questions.

“Come here,” she said. She reached over and grabbed Erica’s arm and pulled her onto her lap so the blonde was straddling her. “I’ve got a far more interesting question for you.” She undid Erica’s robe to expose her breasts and cupped them with both hands. “Have you ever fucked on this couch?” she kneaded Erica’s breasts tantalisingly, looking up into her eyes. Erica shook her head, no. “You wanna change that?” Franky asked.

Erica didn’t answer, she just pounced. She kissed Franky fiercely on the mouth, pulling her in close so she could undo the buttons of her shirt. Franky’s body responded instinctively. Erica moved her head down and Franky was soon arching her back, pushing her tits into Erica’s willing mouth. She put one hand on Erica’s tight, round ass, while the other gripped onto a couch cushion.

“You wanna fuck me?” Franky asked.

“Uhmm hmmm,” Erica hummed in response, her mouth still sucking on Franky’s nipple.

Franky gripped Erica’s hair and wrenched her head back, forcing her to look her in the eye.

“Tell me,” she said forcefully.

Erica gasped for breath, looking up at Franky, her eyes burning with lust. “I want to fuck you, Franky,” she licked the curve of Franky’s breast then looked up again, “so bad.”

Franky smiled. Hearing Erica talk dirty was so fucking hot. She let the blonde push her down onto her back and then continue with her ministrations. She closed her eyes and let herself feel, just feel. Erica was new at this she suspected, but what she lacked in experience she made up for in pure, raw, burning desire. Erica wanted Franky, and Franky wanted Erica to want her.

Erica’s hands were everywhere, trying to stroke and to hold and to possess every inch of Franky’s long athletic frame. Her mouth followed, gently nibbling Franky’s ear and nuzzling her neck, and then it was making a line of kisses down her arm, or across her belly, or up the inside of her thigh. Franky laid her head back and let it happen, all of it. She couldn’t stop it, and she didn’t want to.

Franky felt hands caressing her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples. Then wet lips replaced fingers and Franky moaned. She spread her legs, aching to feel a hand or a tongue between them but Erica made no move to satisfy her. Erica was intent on exploring Franky's body slowly, and she discovered sensitive spots that Franky didn't even know she had: the crook of her elbow, the crest of her ear, the bottom edge her ribcage. Whether this was a deliberate plan or simple inexperience, the effect was the same - it drove Franky mad with desire.

When Erica's hand brushed up against Franky's center, already slick with arousal, Franky actually screamed. Nobody had ever made her scream before during sex. Nobody had even come close. There was something about Erica, something beyond simple physical desire, that connected her to Franky in a way she hadn't experienced in years, or perhaps ever.

After Franky screamed, Erica finally got the message. She swiftly removed Franky’s underwear and her open mouth landed right between Franky's legs, licking and sucking. Her fingers soon joined in. Franky closed her eyes and willed her body still, so that she could take in every swipe of Erica's tongue, every caress of Erica's fingers inside her. After what could have been twenty seconds or twenty minutes, she heard herself screaming again, her back arched, and the most amazing orgasm crashed over her.

The physical sensation, centered in her clit, wasn't sharp and intense, like she was used to. It was bigger; it spread throughout her whole body, making her scalp tingle and her toes curl. It seemed to last forever, and Erica just kept feeding it with her fingers and gentle tongue. That was the release Franky desperately wanted.

******

Franky spent the rest of the day at Erica’s. They made love, and they chatted about books and television shows and movies. They settled into a comfortable rapport, teasing and laughing at each other when their opinions differed and revelling when they were shared. At lunch time Erica put on her jeans and sweater and went down the street to collect them take away Pad Thai. In the afternoon they had a couple of beers and Franky utilised the ingredients in Erica’s kitchen to make bruschetta. Sex and talk and food blurred into each other. Franky wanted the day to go on for ever. She felt so renewed she hardly recognised herself.

“I have to go,” Franky said at last. It was dark outside.

A look of grim resignation passed over Erica’s face but she made no comment. She simply helped Franky collect her things and walked her to the door.

“Will you text me? Or call?” Erica asked tentatively.

“Yep, for sure.” Franky knew that she would. Erica wrapped her arms around Franky’s neck and kissed her slowly and thoroughly. Both women lingered in the kiss for as long as possible before the inevitability of their parting. Eventually, Franky reluctantly ended the kiss and turned to leave. Erica grabbed her hand to stop her.

“I just want you to know I had a great time today,” she said.

Franky smiled. “Me too.”

Then she headed for home. For Bridget.