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TRAVELOGUE OF TWO SOULS

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That was a pleasantly early morning. Birds behind the windows started to chirp, and the sun was practically on full display, brightly illuminating the room. The sunbeam jumped from Bridget’s crown of the head to her nose, which made her stir. The honey-colored skin glowed under the sun. The heat out of it caused the blonde to turn to the other side of the bed. 

Franky appeared in their chamber with a bouquet of Mansfield Park Garden Spray Roses of a pink blush color. They were neither white nor pink but extremely beautiful with an adoring smell nourishing the whole bedroom. She kneeled in front of the sleeping birthday girl with flowers in her hands and placed a light kiss on her nose. Bridget moaned and tried to awaken from a dream world. With only one eye open, she noticed the green eyes of her beloved woman hidden behind the roses and smiled gently at the sight. She thought it was a blessing to wake up to those loving bright gaze. She rubbed her eyes, and raised herself on the pillows, muffling herself up in blankets, smiling. Franky made herself seated on the bed, stretching the bouquet, singsonging: ‘Happy Birthday, baby girl!’ Bridget eagerly accepted fresh roses, smelled them and with a delighted ‘Mmmm…’ kissed the brunette.

There was a tradition in the family, to congratulate each other early in the morning, to be the first out of the rest of their family and friends. Despite it being a tradition, every time such early wake up congratulations were perceived with unexpectedness.    

Suddenly, both women heard a howling from the hall. They smiled at each other.

‘Franky, is that what I think?’ Bridget jumped out of bed fully awake, fully naked, running towards the sound in the hall.

The brunette made an instant note to herself again that her woman was just the best person on the planet and shouted to her: ‘Barry! He is Barry!’ As she got up from the haunches she went to the hall to see the best set ever: her birthday girl was sitting on the floor with Barry in her arms licking all over her cheerful face making Bridget giggle.

‘Who is a sweet little boy? Ha? Barry!’ Bridget was cooing. 

Franky, unable to restrain her emotions, crouched closer to the both of them and held Bridget from behind, stretching her legs on either side of her lover’s hips, leaning her back against the sofa. Bridget rested on Franky’s chest and turned her head to the left and slightly up to meet her brunette’s lips: ‘Thank you, baby!’ ‘How are we feeling?’ Bridget smiled at Franky, fidgeted a little so as to be still between the brunette’s legs but not leaning against their still invisible baby bump.

‘We are perfect, babe!’ Franky smiled back.

‘I love you!’ Bridget protruded her lips, as if a child asking for a kiss, which made the brunette chuckle.

‘Love you, Gidge!’ Franky kissed the blonde with a smile on her lips. 

They were sitting like this for some time until Barry fell asleep on Bridget’s chest. Franky thought Bridget would look amazing with their children in arms.

Bridget’s head was resting in the crook of Franky’s neck, allowing the brunette to fully observe the picture. She kissed the blonde on the forehead, stroking with one hand their little puppy and with her other hand resting on Bridget’s toned stomach, drawing feathery patterns there.

And so their morning started.

 




 

Bridget loved attention on her Day, as every other person on their birthday. But she loved spending this special occasion with Franky and always left the celebration as it was for the other day. All her friends were aware of this habit and those, who wanted to congratulate personally, always came in the morning, the rest of her friends and acquaintances called, sent messages or emails knowing that they would meet the blonde at some appointed date. It wasn’t a superstition or eccentricity. Somehow, she always felt strange before her birthday. There was never any kind of childish joy but an awkward feeling, as if she didn’t know what to do on this day, as if planets collided in space which prevented her from reacting and feeling exhilarated. That was the main reason she didn’t have the wish to organize posh celebrations. She needed to recharge. The following day was always much better, and she felt freer.

Knowing this feature of her fiancée, Franky didn’t ask about the plans for that occasion, she knew they would spend it together. They both had a bee in a bonnet towards their birthdays. They had different reasons, however it resulted in the following: they both were happy doing something common on the day of their birthdays, nothing extreme or overwhelming, only pleasant and positive activities together and from that moment with Barry. 

The couple decided to spend the whole day at the seaside. They packed all needed things into the car, took some water and feed for Barry and left their house. They agreed upon a take-away breakfast from a beach restaurant to be eaten watching the rippling water under the yellow sun. They also wanted to have fun with their Barry and teach him to swim.




Franky and Bridget were standing a couple of meters away from each other in the sea with water slightly covering their hips. 

Bridget was holding Barry under his armpits and was guiding him to swim to Franky. ‘Barry will have been more than a year old by the time our children appear. Do you think they will get along well?’ She expressed her worry. 

‘Sure, Gidge, we chose a Golden, and they are extremely sensitive and friendly, considered to be family dogs. Also, we have several months ahead to teach him to be nice and careful.’ Franky tried to put Bridget’s mind at ease. 

‘I am just anxious he could jump at you and hurt you deliberately, he is still a little puppy.’ Always calm and conscious psychologist was nervous, which at some point, amused the lawyer.

Franky guided Barry to swim back to Bridget. ‘Gidge, surely that should be me to worry, writhe in hysterics, and you should be the one to hold my hand saying ‘I got you!’ and ‘do you want to talk about it?’ and ‘how are you feeling?’ Franky laughed.

‘Franky!’ Bridget stretched the last syllable of the brunette’s name, being insulted. Splashed playfully some water in the direction of Franky. Carefully enough not to water Barry’s ears. The brunette answered with a bigger splash.

Barry, seeing this unknown to him game, quickly swam to the shore and sat at the bank watching his two mommas behaving like kids. He didn’t bark, on the contrary, was silently sitting and turning his head to the right and then to the left, to the right, to the left. Bridget and Franky were cheerfully laughing and were totally wet. All of a sudden, the brunette submerged into the water and swam to Bridget from behind, enveloped her in her arms and made them fall into the water. They jumped out of the sea together, laughing loudly and looking around to see if Barry was still sitting on the shore. When they saw him staring at them, they took each other by the hand, exchanged looks, giggled and went out of the water with a guilty look on their faces. They both kneeled in front of Barry and stretched their arms for him to go for an embrace. Barry, slightly waving his tail, came closer to his mommas and licked their faces.

‘Sorry, Barry!’ The blonde said, suppressing her giggle, and patted his head.

‘And you were concerned about his behavior?’ Franky laughed and got a look from Barry. ‘Oh fuck! Gidge, he is a too serious doggo!’ The brunette couldn’t stop laughing. 

‘At least we have several months to teach her good vocabulary, right, Barry?’ The blonde hugged their puppy-son and kissed him on the smooth wet nose.

‘I also want a kiss!’ Green eyes pouted the lips.

‘Will you behave?’ Bridget asked, playing seriousness.

‘Yes, mom!’ Franky looked at Bridget, ‘Yes, dad!’ She looked at Barry and started to laugh again. 

‘Unbearable!’ Bridget kissed Franky on the nose and patted her back. 

Barry, watching his crazy mommas and accepting his family as it was, fell down to his right side with his head on Franky’s lap and touched her belly with his cold wet nose. He sniffed it, tickling Franky with his little whiskers, making her giggle and licked it. 

Bridget, seeing this adoring moment, sat hip to hip to the brunette. She kissed Franky in the temple then in the clavicle and was stroking their clever dog enjoying her birthday.

It was definitely one of the best days spent together.


‘Would you like us to cook or order something for the evening?’ Franky asked while they were gathering home after practically a whole day spent at the sea.

‘Cook! Tender duck fillet with veggies on me and you surprise me with a dessert if you don’t mind?’ Bridget suggested. She absolutely loved when Franky baked something, she was amazing in the kitchen. 

‘Anything you wish, my birthday girl!’




Franky was mixing coconut flour with cream for their chocolate caramel slice. Bridget was combining spices for the sauce to marinade and bake duck fillet. 

The call startled them both. Somebody wanted to reach Franky. And that somebody was no one else but her mother. Franky’s brow raised. She silently picked up the phone from a counter, showed Bridget the caller ID and went to the living area to talk. Deep inside she felt that call wouldn’t be one of the pleasant ones. 

‘Yes? Hi mom.’ Franky mumbled, prepared to listen to another reproach to her address. She worked out some tactics in communicating with her mother, mainly, she was listening, then trying hard to forget whatever negativity it would be spewed out on her. ‘Thank you, I will tell her.’ ‘Yes, everything is fine.’ ‘Yes, bye, see you.’

Franky came back to Bridget, who was utterly occupied in cooking.

‘Is everything fine?’ The blonde asked tentatively. She knew quite well what such calls could make Franky do. At the least, mow the lawn until the soil was visible.

‘Ah?’ She asked bewildered. Still coping with a positive result of a conversation. ‘Yes, she, actually, called to say her regards, congratulate you on your Birthday.’

‘Oh!’ Bridget didn’t expect Franky’s mother would remember, as well as be eager to congratulate. ‘That’s kind of her, thanks.’ A small smile appeared on the blonde’s face. ‘Does she know...?’ Bridget didn’t finish the question, knowing Franky would understand the implication. 

‘About us? Yes. About the rest - no.’ She shrugged her shoulders and concentrated on shredding the nuts for their dessert. The next second, the knife slipped out of Franky’s arms and landed on the floor. Franky jumped off, so it didn’t hit her toes. ‘Fuck!’ She cursed silently.

‘Why don’t you tell me?’ Bridget uttered, calm as a freight train, as if asking to switch on the kettle.

Never expecting the blonde to go willingly into details of her and parents’ relationship, Franky decided to finally talk. 

‘It’s your day, Gidge!’ She hesitated.

‘Just the occasion, ha?!’ The blonde chuckled. 

 

 

‘Well, nothing fascinating. Somehow, I do not want to talk about it, as well as I want to share it with you.’ She sighed. 

‘Years of digging into my own mind made me realise the whole situation. As my father’s catch-as-catch-can working style prevailed, it meant that other members of our family had to adjust and accommodate to his work, that he never negotiated with us, should be said. My mother became a linchpin of the family, without discussions or conscious decision making. And I wasn’t even born yet. She felt abandoned.’ Franky breathed out. 

‘She was an abuser on level ‘minimum’. I never had the right to voice my opinion, or simply talk. I was afraid of her. Every day I was experiencing fear of coming home, of waking up, of her coming up to me. I was always ready to be beaten, have my hair pulled, shouted at, reproached, whatsoever.’ She paused.

‘On weekends, if my father appeared to be home, not fucking some slag, he would be hiding behind a book. They both were depleted and irritable, hurt, anxious and angry. And in such a state they did parent me. As a little kid I couldn’t possibly understand the motives of two adults, however I was able to witness unhealthy interaction, evil conversations, violent behaviour toward each other, and as a result I had to become a victim of those activities as well.’

‘Thanks to my grandparents I never experienced the feeling of abandonment, but I felt lonely. I believe that was the reason for me to be comfortable single, no strings attached was the best attitude towards life. Nevertheless, I always knew subliminally that there were things in the world much more important to my parents than me. I felt there was something wrong with me, I thought I was stupid and unworthy, apart from that I was always told I was that type of kid. Unconsciously I started to believe in that, just until I became a teenager and learned to filter all shit I heard.’

‘I remember how I was covering the signs of her evil on my skin by wearing long sleeves. There was a period when I cut myself, you know. * Franky’s face cringed* I couldn’t cope. And when I felt the blade against my skin, it’s cold and sharp edge, the way it stung into my arms, I was as if in another world, silent and safe. *She smiled weakly*  I felt anxiety and pressure all the time. That process of self-harming calmed me down.’

‘There were some good times, when I felt occasional care and love. We went together to the park or...There was a good time when we went together to the park. We rarely spent time together. There were some circumstances when we had to do that, like holidays, for instance.’

‘When I entered the Uni I left home and for the first time in my life I was able to breathe. I needed several years to forget the pain out of her nails dug  deep into my body. As well as I learned not to shrug in my head when somebody was raising their hand near me. I was learning to talk. You know, as if from the very beginning. As it turned out I was unable to bind two words to make up a sentence. For the lawyer it’s shitty.’ She smiled to herself and nodded her head, being embarrassed. 

‘Whole my life, just until my mid twenties I was afraid to become an alcoholic. There were times when they got drunk to oblivion, I had to clean after them, had to search for them around the city, etc.’ She still didn’t raise her eyes to look at Bridget.

‘I learned to deal with anger. The only thing that I cannot still learn is to block her bullshit. Somehow my inner self takes it to the heart. Still. I do not blame her. I am not angry with her anymore. She is my mother and I will always help her, but unfortunately something inside of me broke. *Franky sadly looked at Bridget* I am not that scared child anymore. I am not afraid of her. I see her, and can read her. I cannot understand why she doesn’t want to change her attitude towards life, but anyway, that’s not my problem. *She breathed out* That’s in brief. I do not remember my childhood well. There are some flashbacks, but I do not remember many years from that life. I wanted to block it so much, that now I know the consequences of the cause-effect relationship, that’s all.’ She tapped her fingertips against the cooking surface. 

‘The emotional climate was always unpredictable and confusing. I never got that attachment, feeling of tenderness, reasonable parenting, secure and reliable parental presence, mainly I got a stick not knowing exactly what the carrot was.’

‘It has been hard for me to open up because I was never listened to or made talk. I remember that once I did say something about the way I felt or thought and was instantly cut, it wasn’t interesting for them, I was proved wrong, so eventually I chose to be silent. And when you are silent for more than 25 years it’s hard to start, Gidge! I am sorry for that.’

 

 

Franky’s eyes were filled with pain towards the past and appreciation towards the person in front of her, listening attentively. Her voice calm but harsh. She was holding tight to the table in front of which she was standing. That cool marble surface cooled her temper that second. Her whole monologue was presented as if in one breath. Actually, she felt pride that she, being a child, was able to cope with all the bruises her mother gifted her. She was proud she was clever enough to filter abusive remarks in her address. And she was proud she didn’t feel anger towards her parents anymore.

Bridget stopped doing what she was busy with. She was astounded Franky finally shed a light on her story of childhood. She clearly understood it was only a sketch, full of a dark palette, though she was happy, her partner decided to crack open the door to the past.

When Bridget was little she never came across such things like being beaten, or else. She was respected by her parents even at a young and vulnerable age. She was happy to do what she wanted to, she developed, learned about the world. As a psychologist she had to work with many victims of abuse and she knew quite well what way it influenced their life. She was so proud Franky managed to cope with everything herself, to make right decisions and come to reasonable conclusions. She sensed her partner became more beautiful for having been broken, thanks to the golden clay, the mixture of comprehension and devotion they were using to mend each other and highlight positive mesmerizing sides of one another. She was proud to be by her side. 

‘Thank you!’ Bridget finally spoke.

‘What?’ Franky never expected to hear that , as a reaction to what had been said. 

‘Thank you, Franky. For being strong. For being nothing like them.’

How Bridget could know Franky’s fear was that she could resemble her parents. The blonde just pronounced the words Franky needed to hear. 

‘You really think so?’

‘Yes, I do!’

‘Thank you, Gidge!’ Franky smiled. ‘Would you like some ice cream for dessert?’

Bridget giggled, that the brunette switched off to another topic so quickly: ‘Yes, that would be great, baby!’ Bridget’s heart pounded. She was terrified by even the story of how parents could treat and presumably ruin their own child’s life. She was trying hard not to show her sorrow to her girl. And at that very moment it dawned on her, they would be really good parents and allies to their kids. 

Franky was thinking about their future children every day now. Those thoughts invaded her head. She was restless. She was whipping the cream and looking at the blonde. She couldn’t help but evaluate their family for a stable and positive environment to bring up two healthy children. 

‘I love you, Bridget!’ Franky left aside the activities, to come up to Bridget to kiss her, as a sign of affirmation of her thoughts.

‘I love you, Franky!’ Bridget leaned in for a soft kiss. ‘I’m happy with you!’ She came as close as she could to Franky to be held. Her hands were all in the sauce and spices, so she didn’t dare to embrace the brunette. 

‘I am happy with you too, Gidge!’ Franky enveloped the small of Bridget’s back and placed another soft kiss on the forehead. 

They heard dovelike clinks of Barry's clawies against the parquet in the hall. His sleepy little head appeared to be funny for both of the women. They laughed when they saw him.

‘Would you like some water, Barry?’ Franky added some fresh water to the bowl for their puppy.  ‘Or some food?’ 

Barry wiggled his whole body, approving the offer. 

‘You are an adorable little boy, Barry!’ Bridget commented, while arranging the fillet in a roasting pan. She loaded the dish into the oven, cleaned the hands and sat on the floor, petting their puppy while he was eating. ‘You are so soft!’ 

‘Just like his mum!’ Franky giggled, petting Bridget’s crown of the head.




‘Every time you are in my arms I want to merge with you.’ 

Franky whirled at the sound of the deep husky voice and drew in a breath. Bridget looked like a star from some erotic movie with tempting fuck-me body. When Franky bent over her limp form, she was astonished to see white silk lingerie under Bridget’s shirt. She circled her elegant shoulder for ampteens consecutive times, considering the possible options of how to proceed. 

Bridget eyed her partner cautiously, as if she was puzzled by her new inclination to review her activities. She was suddenly flipped to back face Franky. The brunette’s hands were motioning from the blonde’s waist up to the shoulderblades to unclip the bra. A soft moan escaped Bridget’s mouth. Franky leaned forward, peppering tender kisses on the honey back. She was trailing her arms down the hips to tug the jeans down.

Another flip, and now Bridget was in front of Franky, lying beautifully on the bed. Her hair was no longer accurately held in a ponytail at her nape and was now in disarray, with hundreds of strands of blonde hair loose and haphazardly framing her face. The brunette considered Bridget’s face to be sexy, very damned sexy, with lips full and tantalizing, an elegant nose with a slight tilt at the end and sharp, elegant cheekbones. She was so slender and fit. Her firm breasts heaving within every passionate breath. Her straight bare legs made her calves look so delectable, and feet so kissable. That sight made Franky feel like a starved wolf wanting to take a bite or two. No, to eviscerate the blonde, long and pleasantly hard. She  kneeled down to tug on the last attire the blonde was wearing and substitute those lace panties with her hot wet kisses. 

Bridget arched her back, feeling Franky’s tongue brushing against her core. The brunette was as if painting a landscape, applying impressive violent brush strokes against Bridget’s labia. She embraced her legs around Franky’s neck and gave in to a savage artist of her body. 

Their bodies entwined, fingers interlaced, groans merged.


Franky leaned her weight into Bridget. Hardness of their chests crushing against each other, the strength of her slightly bigger body suddenly made the blonde feel tiny and vulnerable. Bridget’s breath caught in her throat at the feel of a persistent leg pressed snugly between her hips, touching an already tortured bundle of nerves. 


Vibrant voice, belonging to Franky, made Bridget shiver: ‘I love you, Gidge!’

The blonde’s lips brushed over hers, the fleeting touch sending sizzling jolts of awareness to every nerve ending in her body. Slowly her hands slid from her face, down her arms and toward her olive buttocks: ‘I love you, baby!’


Having gained strength again, none too gently, Bridget cupped and squeezed Franky’s butt, pulling her forward as she collapsed against her pelvis. She turned them both to be atop of the brunette. Thick veins strained in the blonde’s neck as she clutched her beloved woman tightly to her hot body, rambling her urgent fingers all over the heated flesh. 


Franky exerted her own remarkable efforts and bit back a string of whimpers, knowing she would surely climax only from sheer, pure desire that had been boiling inside her. As if on cue her bosom flooded with feverish, immodest juices, and just for a wink she worried that any second Bridget would be able to actually see the steam emerging out of her pussy.


The feel of their balmy, gentle palms on the tender skin and their all-powerful tongues mercilessly thrusting into each other's mouths drove their insides into a frenzy. Whatever insanity this was they both didn’t want it to end, because they felt magnificent, wonderful, marvelous.

Fantastic.


‘Do not tell me he was watching us all this time?’

‘He is going to be quite experienced!’ 

They laughed looking at Barry, lying at the end of the bed, attentive watching their already favorite humans.