The Comfort of Cuddles
I stretched out on the couch, my body still aching from a long day at the office. I groaned as a particular sore muscle in my shoulder continued to throb and reached up with my right arm to rub the muscle as best I could.
This is what sitting behind a desk all day does to me: it makes me sore and lazy. I feel like a house cat of some kind. Laze around all day, but still by the end of the day being tired and ready just to lie around and be loved. I huff silently to myself rolling my eyes at the notion. Obviously, I have never been much of a cat person or a sit around person really.
I mean, I am sheriff; the job description, in itself, should entail some sort of excitement about it. Right? That does not seem much to ask, although I do love that there is no random crime rates going up. The kid does have to live here and a nice town that is both quiet and safe is obviously ideal for any child to grow up in. And now I am thinking like an actual adult. It feels weird and oddly out of character to even myself. My brows scrunch up in concentration as I think about that for just a moment as I let the full affects of my being an adult cloud over my mind.
I shake myself out of that as I shift once again on the couch to get into a more desirable position as I try to make the daily stresses melt away from my body. At least that is my goal in all of this, but what it feels like it really is doing is nothing of the sort. My shoulder still aches even with my self massage and I am still a little miffed from my latest showdown with none other than the queen bitch herself: Regina, more formally known as Madame Mayor. How she even got the job title is beyond me. Seriously, who in their right minds would have voted for such a hateful bitch in the first place?
Maybe I really should just run against her, just to give people another option. I might actually have a shot with how many people actually seem to hate the woman. The sound of the door to the apartment opening forces me from my musing as I crack my eyes open to watch as my demure roommate and best friend, Mary Margaret, walks into the door an ever present smile curving her lips, that is, until she spots me, so pathetically sprawled out across the couch sporting, what I know is, a less than pleased expression.
Instant smile killer that is what I should be called; as soon as her eyes landed on me just laying here, that sweet smile died and in its place was erected a frown etching all of Mary Margaret’s soft features in concern. Her eyes seemed to openly scour my body as if she were looking for some obvious signs of trauma before settling back on my face.
Her eyes, still full of concern, never left my own as she closed the door behind her making her way towards me while setting her bag down on the floor. Her slightly cold hand sweeps over my face as she sits on the edge of the coach and, for a moment, she just stares concerned and almost knowingly.
“Rough day?” It’s asked softly as if she does not want to speak too loudly afraid that it might break me in some way and my love for this woman just doubles because of how considerate the woman is.
I just nod an actual pout forming on my lips as I look at the pixie featured woman sitting above me and she smiles back caringly. Her hand soothingly running through my hair and I find my eyes closing as my body seems to melt into the couch in comfort at the sensation. A sigh leaves my lips as I snuggle deeper within the comfort of the couch the soft stroking hands relieve the tension from both my body and mind.
“Tell me what’s wrong” it comes out as a soft murmur, words that are like a gentle breeze flowing right over my ear drums and I hum lightly at the sound.
“Regina…work…the kid…just all stress.” It comes out choppy and slightly grumbled, but I just have a feeling that the dark haired woman heard it all despite that.
“I know that this is all new to you; and at times it can seem overwhelming, but I know that you can and will overcome all of this.” Her words are spoken with such sincerity that it causes a huge wave of hope to crash into my whole body. I can feel myself practically hum with it and it is a great feeling. Mary Margaret always has a way of just making me feel so much better, whether it be her reassuring words or just her presence. It all just rains over me with a comfort that feels amazing. I love it; and I seriously love this woman, too. The thought actually puts a huge smile on my face as I look up into kind brown eyes once again.
“Thanks. It’s just that some days I feel like everything is just too much. And honestly I miss the rush that my life once had; the days where I woke every morning with something new to experience. And now it just seems like my life is on replay from the day to day. I love it here, don’t get me wrong.” I say stopping myself before I end up going on a major Storybrooke bashing while my friend is here trying to comfort me. I will not be that jerk who hurts the one who is helping. “It’s just, all this is not the norm. I feel overwhelmed and sometimes I just want a moment where it all just stops and I can just feel…good. Have those good feelings without the inevitable stress pilling.”
Throughout my whole little spew those soft hands never stopped combing through my hair and somewhere along the way a warm body ended up lying next to mine on what is now the most comfortable couch in the world. I feel so relaxed and warm. I never even realized that my eyes had shut, but now that they are I do not want to ever have to open them again, or leave this comfort for that matter.
I can feel the body next to me shift as Mary Margaret begins to move and instantly my arms have shot up and around her small frame keeping her from leaving me completely, but still allowing her to move if she is just trying to get comfortable. I seriously do not want the warmth of her body to leave my right now it is beyond soothing. A breathy chuckle is all that greets me in return to my actions and a small smile curves my lips at the sound, but all I can really think is that at least she is not trying to move me away.
It is that knowledge that has me once again relaxing my tensed up muscles as I melt back into the couch below. It is not more than a moment later and I catch myself snuggling into the soft, warm body beside me. I feel like a pampered housecat rubbing my body against someone else trying to get love. It feels amazing. I officially have a new respect and understanding for cats.
Small arms have wrapped around my body as Mary Margaret slowly lets her hands slide up and down my back in the most soothing gesture, I think, I have ever experience. I think that if I could purr, I seriously would right now that is how good it feels. But since I am not a feline or some weird human cat, I release a content moan against my will. As soon as the sound registers in my ears as not being in my mind my face is on fire and my body has tensed up causing the soothing rubbing to cease. I am not sure what is worse at the moment: actually moaning because the awesome rubbing that I am getting from my friend, or the stopping of the rubbing because of the moan that I released.
It only takes a few silent moments for me to realize that it is the latter of these that is truly the worst and I am nuzzling into the warmth of the small body giving it a squeeze in hopes that May Margaret will get the hint and continue. This nuzzling business also works to my advantage as now I can hide that horribly embarrassing blush on my cheeks. But Mary Margaret has yet to continue with her lovely petting, I nuzzle more incessantly giving her two squeezes in rapid succession in hopes that it will be enough for her to continue. Again I am disappointed as a few moments later her hands have yet to continue moving.
Finally, slightly miffed, I let out an irritated huff picking up my upper body so that I can give her a glare. “Why’d you stop?” It comes out more as a whine, but I could care less right now. It felt good! And I want that good feeling to come back.
That devilish pixie just stares up at me with the most innocent green eyes, I’m sure, she could muster before breaking out into a large smile and stating in the most offhanded manor “I was just trying to see if you would beg me to use my hands to make you moan again.” And she shrugs before gliding her hands back up my back.
I am so shocked that little innocent Mary Margaret would say such a thing that I have no comeback. Nothing! This is little school teacher Mary Margaret in my defense, but still! I am just lie there like a stunned fool before I glare at the slightly giggling woman beside me. I am just about to open my mouth to shoot something back at the woman when she gives a squeeze to a particularly tense muscle in my back and I crumbled like a teenager’s resolve under peer pressure.
I melt back to the cushions uselessly as another moan escapes my mouth as she continues to need the sore muscle. Burying my face into her chest, I grumble out a “shut up” just knowing that the woman would have something to say.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” She says it far too innocently which lets me know it is a complete lie so I just grunt in reply stretching my body out and along her warm one nuzzling my face into her warmth. This feels like heaven so she can say whatever she wants as long as she does not stop. Of course, I am not going to tell her that.
Instead of speaking and giving my oh so lovely friend (note the sarcasm) I nuzzle myself back into her chest above her breasts. I inhale for the first time and the scent that greets me fills my sense of smell filling my lungs. It is such a calming, but purely addictive scent that I find myself taking in another large lung full of the scent. I know that if I do not stop smelling my friend soon it is bound to become slightly creepy if not, totally so. The only problem with that plan is that I can not seem to pull myself away from the smell so instead of making it obvious I try to just allow the scent to waft into my nose with every inhale.
The kneading of those glorious gifts from the gods, known as hands, continue to work the sore muscles all throughout my back and they finally manage to work their way up to my tender shoulder muscle. I can literally feel my body vibrating with anticipation. It seems like her movements have slowed down and it is the hugest tease that I have ever had to endure. I am just about to complain about how long she is dragging out this torture when her hands finally make it to my shoulders. The position causes her to practically hug my and our bodies to be flush against each other and I have to move a little bit in order to not suffocate so I end up with my face in the crook of her neck. It feels so warm and lovely that I just bask in the feel of being somewhat hugged, that is, until those glorious hands begin to need those muscles.
I let out a long drawn out moan; there is no way I could have held that back that first squeeze was earth shatteringly good. I would say I think I just orgasmed if it didn’t feel wildly inappropriate on some subconscious level in my mind. Who am I kidding? I think I did just orgasm that is how positively good this feels. “Oh my god! Don’t stop.” And I know that came out like a moan and right into her ear, but really I have no shame. This feeling is amazing. If someone tells me that I have died and that I, somehow, managed to make it into heaven I would believe them in this moment.
And the most perfect thing of all? Those hands just have not stopped their magic. I think I have just fallen in love with this woman or maybe I just fell in love with her hands. God, it does not even matter I would marry anything to make this never stop. I am actually quite shocked at how strong Mary Margaret is because she is putting some real muscle behind the massage, trust me it makes all of the difference, if my brain would not be just content mush right now I would totally comment on that. As it is, though, my brain is a wonderful pile of indulged mush and I do not.
More pleased moans are escaping my lips with each especially good rub to my muscles and there is no real way that they are going to be stopping soon. I hear a slight grunt from the dark haired woman and realize that I have been squeezing her to me as she continued to work my muscles and I instantly relax my arms trying to mumble out an apology, but only getting the ‘I’ out before it turns into another moan as she squeezes particularly hard. Something in me says she does not mind the fact that I was squeezing her too much.
And as the massage continues so do the moans. I have seriously never been this vocal even during sex! But there is no way I am going to stop this magic it is like everything that has been bothering me is slowly melting away from me and it is all thanks to these magic hands that belong to this wonderful woman.
I think I have melted, that is the only way I can describe the lip noodle state my body is in at the moment, but there is no way in hell I plan on moving. Mary Margaret has relaxed every damn sore muscle and still minutes late we lie here on this glorious piece of furniture. I demand to never move. I nuzzle deeper into the neck of the woman before me my arms wrapped around her waist as hers wrap themselves around my torso and there is no place that I could ever imagine being better than this.
In no time I can feel myself starting to doze off, but I really do not want to have to leave the comfortable embrace that I have found myself in. Intent on not leaving this spot I snuggle closer to Mary Margaret’s comforting warmth nuzzling my face into the crook of her neck taking in that sweet yet extremely homey smell. I squeeze my arms around her body as I adjust my legs so that our legs are now intertwined. It feels comforting having another body being this close to mine especially when that person is someone that gave me the best rub ever.
It is amazing to me that I can just lie here and relax; be so open and close to another human being without that unconscious fear of being hurt, but with Mary Margaret cuddling on the couch just seems normal and right. I feel her shift and for a moment I fear that she is going to leave me, but instead she drapes a blanket over the both of use cocooning us in a warm cuddled embrace; she must have grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and I am totally grateful that she leaves that there.
I know it is not really late, but still too late for a nap and if I do fall asleep it is going to ruin my whole sleeping schedule. I just cannot find it in me to care. Wrapping my arms tighter around the woman I pull her flush against me delighting in the softness of her body against mine and slowly start to drift.
As I slowly come to the first thing that I have become aware of is that the arms that were around me making me feel utterly safe are no longer there, but I can still feel the presence of another body next to mine. As my mind becomes conscious of what is going on around it, I notice that I am still holding a petite body against my own. At some point Mary Margaret must have shifted during our sleep because her upper body is slightly curved as if she were trying to, subconsciously, get itself into the fetal position. But my body was next to hers causing the progress to stop and her head rests against my breast plate and her hands are folded in front of her clutching my top. As I take this all in, I cannot help but smile. She looks utterly peaceful and innocent in this moment.
I hug her a little closer to my body as I rest my chin on the top of her head letting her get her rest. I mean, I feel like it’s the least I could do for her after the amazing magic she did on my back and shoulders but a few hours prior. It is a slow process, but I take every bit of it in as the dark haired woman in my arms slowly starts to make her way back into the world of consciousness.
First she begins to stir like she can not seem to find a comfortable way to lay and her breathing subtly starts to shift. For a moment I think she has fallen back to sleep because she stopped and her breathing has leveled back out coming more regularly, but then I feel her arms wrap around my waist giving me a squeeze as she leaves a light kiss on my collar bone. It is a peaceful moment that inevitably has to get broken up by a loud banging coming from the door and I groan in annoyance.
She begins to shift away from me and I clutch her a little tighter not yet ready to part from this peaceful moment that has become so rare, but the knocking persists. Finally, I let the woman up and she gives me a soft, understanding smile as she makes her way to answer the door. As she does so I can not help, but believe that this cuddling thing has definitely got to become a more frequent event. And as the door opens and the real world comes crashing back the only thought that passes through my mind is.
"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;
mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">‘Like an everyday occurrence.’