Bronwyn would never admit it openly, but as she sat down across from her boss in his office, she winced a little. The night's marathon had left her with more than a few sore muscles.

She had showered at Ciara's place after helping her clean up the mess they had made of her bed. Changing the sheets and bedding after such a pleasurable night, she hoped to be able to slip under the fresh linen with her lover again tonight. They had agreed to meet later for a bite to eat before Ciara had to go to work.

Harrison and she had compared notes, no mention of Ciara and his 'background check'. But Evans was still cautious.

Frowning, she looked at the file they had compiled on the case.

"What do you think, boss?" She leaned back, relaxing a little in the office chair.

Harrison shrugged. "The whole case stinks. The way everyone is closing ranks around the husband is strange. As fast as the crime scene was dealt with, everything is moving at a slow and deliberate pace now. I had to cut through a lot of red tape just to get the bank statements you processed.

Evans nodded. "Do we have any news from the solicitor about a will?"

He shook his head. "More bureaucracy there." He shrugged. "Let's get the cards out on the table. Who inherits the money? Most likely the husband. Who had the opportunity to poison her lubricant?" He grimaced. "Most likely the husband. Who is behaving rather strangely now?" He challenged her.

"The husband." She nodded. "But how do you make it stick? And his reaction to the toys seemed genuine. It really felt like he had no idea."

Harrison nodded, defeated. "We need to spend a few more hours with the man. Check again if he had the opportunity to get the nicotine."

"Do we have the green light again to investigate in Winchester? Or do we have to submit the requests to the precinct?"

He rolled his eyes, "Putting in requests my arse!"

"Boss, I would like to spend a few hours on Mrs Smith. Look at her friends and family again, a bit more thoroughly. Do we have to put in requests there too?"

"I don't think so but be careful. You can go there tomorrow. It's a good idea to have another look. You might find a motive or even another suspect. Maybe even another escort?" He laughed. "Just behave yourself."

"I always do!" Bronwyn grinned as she stood.

"Of course." Harrison got up with her and opened the office door. "Time for a cuppa." He smiled. "How far have you got with the computers?"

"Unless they were both mega hackers and covered their tracks well, both computers are clean."

They were walking past the main desk towards the tea kitchen when Harrison stopped dead in his tracks. Grinning, he turned to Bronwyn. "I think you have a visitor, Evans."

Bronwyn looked past him. In a corner of the busy room stood Ciara, sharply dressed as always, her handbag in her right hand and her cane unfolded in front of her like a wizard's staff. She looked disoriented with all the noise around her, even though the room was well lit, she seemed lost.

Bronwyn checked her watch Ciara was over an hour early.

"Constable, why is Miss O'Riordan standing there?" She approached the young, uniformed officer behind the desk.

"She wanted to see you ma'am I told her she'd have to wait as you were in a meeting."

"You could have taken her to a quieter area."

The officer looked confused.

Harrison's voice appeared close to her ear. "He did everything by the book, don't ride him. We get it, you're in love and protective, and she's a sweetheart. But now go get her and don't make too much noise in the ladies' room." He smirked. Bronwyn glared at him. She opened the desk flap and stepped into the waiting room. "Ciara," she took a few steps towards her. The the smaller woman's face lit up as she heard her voice.

"You're early."

"I know, sorry. Do you have a minute? I reached the Reverend."

"Sure." Bronwyn looked around and saw Harrison disappearing towards the kitchen. "Let's go back to my office."

"Lead the way," Ciara held out her hand.

Squeezing it gently, Bronwyn placed it on her elbow.

"So what's new?" She placed Ciara's hand on the back of one of the chairs and circled her desk to sit down as well.

"I reached Reverend Harris. He apologised for not getting back to me, he seems to have been a bit distracted. He said he had found some interesting things in Smith's congregation and invited me, or rather us, to dinner tonight. That's why I'm here, now.

"Don't you have to be at work tonight?"

"I've already spoken to Nelson. He's keen to help find whoever did this to Mrs Smith. So, I have the day off and just have to call if I need more time."

Evans shook her head, smiling. "Where exactly does he live?"

Ciara had the decency to blush.  "Lee-on-Solent."

"Where?"

"Near Portsmouth."

"Seriously? That's at least two hours! Can't we just Skype him?"

"I suppose we could. He just sounded like, you know. Like he wanted to talk in private."

"Who wants to talk in private?"

Evans hadn't noticed that Harrison had returned.

"Hello Miss O'Riordan, sorry Ciara." He looked at Bronwyn. "So? Do we have a new lead?"

Before Bronwyn could even open her mouth, Ciara had turned to face Harrison.

"Sorry DCI Harrison, I was just telling Sergeant Evans that I had spoken to a friend, a Reverend, who might have some insight into some church matters regarding Mr Smith."

Bronwyn noticed the slight change in tone in Ciara's voice. Her accent was a little more pronounced and her voice had a smoky quality to it. She noticed how it affected Harrison. Who was now sitting in his own chair.

"You've been snooping around?"

"That's one way of putting it."

Harrison shook his head. "I don't really care anymore, it feels like I'm a pawn in a chess game and you've just entered as a knight and brought a bishop."

Bronwyn looked at Ciara, who had a knowing smile on her lips.

"Did I hear this right? You're going to Portsmouth?"

"Yes, if I can get the motor pool car?" Bronwyn chimed in.

"Well. I'd say you finish up here while Miss O'Riordan packs an overnight bag. And then the two of you pop off to the coast. Get a room for the night and drive up via Winchester tomorrow to do a few hours' research." Harrison shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, you took a long overdue holiday today and are on a working trip tomorrow."

He turned to Ciara. "Ciara, I've never seen you in here."

"And I haven't seen you, period." She grinned.

Harrison snorted. "Off you go, you two."

"Did you book us a room somewhere?" Ciara snuggled deeper into the cushions of the car seat.

"Yes, but don't expect too much, I basically grabbed the first booking offered that wasn't too far away." Bronwyn manoeuvred the car through the afternoon traffic. It's a small B&B by the sea. I haven't seen the sea in ages, so I thought it would be nice."

Ciara shrugged. "As long as the bed is comfortable, I'll be fine."

Bronwyn shot her a sideways glance. Ciara's face gave no information. She reached over and found her hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..." She trailed off.

Ciara squeezed her hand. "It's all right. I appreciate the fresh sea breeze." A thin smile formed on her lips. "And some good, fresh fish!"

"Now you're talking!" Bronwyn grinned.

Ciara pulled her jacket closer around her. The car's heater wasn't the best and had barely managed to warm the constant stream of air coming in through the vents. She could hear the full force of the rain drumming on the roof and windows, drowning out even the low hum of the engine.

It had been a dull and dreary afternoon. They had been slowly making their way south. The rain had started around the time they had left the city centre, slowing the traffic even more. Bronwyn had become a little restless, not wanting to be late for their appointment with the Reverend. Ciara had felt her tense up, but she wasn't sure if Bronwyn was just one of those terribly punctual people or if it was the strain of driving through the heavy rain.

Normally she didn't like days like this, when her vision was more or less, reduced to zero. But today she didn't mind too much. In her mind she replayed the events of last night and this morning. The pleasure she had seen on Bronwyn's face, the depth of her ice-blue eyes. And that amazing tattoo. It had taken her some time, and she had to get really close, to finally see more details of the dragon crouching on her right shoulder blade. It wasn’t the typical welsh dragon it was a more realistic approach with scales and shading, the dragon itself ready to pounce.

"We're going to be a bit late because of the traffic. Should I pop by the B&B, drop the luggage, get the keys and we'll go to the Reverend?"

Ciara snapped out of her thoughts as Bronwyn’s melodious Welsh accent enveloped her.

"Sure," she shrugged. "I'll wait in the car. I don't feel like stumbling around in the rain."

Bronwyn stopped the car, leaned in for a quick peck on Ciara's cheek, and opened the driver's door. She grabbed their bags from the back seat and ran to the cottage's door.

Listening to the constant drumming of the rain, she almost missed the hurried footsteps running towards the car again. The driver's door opened, and Bronwyn slid into the seat, dropping a few drops on Ciara.

She sighed deeply. "The old lady we're renting from wanted to cook us dinner. I had a hard time explaining that we're on our way to a dinner date. She showed me to the room and took the luggage."

Ciara heard a key jingle.

"Here, you take the key."

She held out her hand and Bronwyn put a keyring with two keys in it.

"And remember, it's room 3 on the left."

"How is the room?"

"A bit stuffy, haven't really had a look around, she just showed me the en-suite, which they'd managed to squeeze in somehow. The bed looked big enough. We'll check out the rest later."

The engine started and Ciara smiled. A big bed was indeed a pro.

As Bronwyn pulled up to the Reverend's house, she saw the silhouette move against the illuminated frosted glass in the front door. As she switched off the engine, the door opened and an elderly man rushed out, holding an umbrella against the rain and another in his hand.

Bronwyn had got out of the car and was opening Ciara's door when he reached her.

"Sergeant Evans, I presume?"

Bronwyn nodded, "Yes, Reverend Harris?"

He smiled and held the second umbrella over the open door, covering not only Bronwyn but also Ciara as she got out of the car.

"Milton!" She beamed at the frail, balding man.

"Ciara, how wonderful to see you again! But please, you two, come inside before you're both soaked!"

Ciara held out her hand to Bronwyn and the three of them hurried up the path to the front door.

The Reverend's wife, Bunny, was already waiting for them at the door, and she hurried them inside.

They sat down to a nice, cosy dinner, Bunny watching intently as Bronwyn explained the layout of the table to Ciara, and the contents of her plate and drink, before concentrating on her meal.

 Keeping the conversation light during the meal, the Reverend and Ciara reminisced about how they met, earning them a scolding from his wife, who wasn't too keen on her husband's secret cigars.

After dinner, Bunny started clearing the table, vehemently refusing Bronwyn's offers to help.

"My husband tells me you three have things to talk about. I'm going to busy myself in the kitchen, clear away the dishes and maybe fix a bite to eat with your coffee later." She winked at her husband, who blushed slightly.

"I admit I have a sweet tooth, and she knows it." He looked lovingly at his wife. She left with another pile of dishes. "Please, let's go to my office, I'd like to keep the business talk to this room." He led the way to a small room at the back of the house. Dominated by bookshelves and a wide oak desk, the room seemed even darker than the rest of the house. The Reverend gestured to a small Edwardian two-seater, "Please sit down. I'm sorry it's a bit crammed in here.”

As the women sat down, they realised that the sofa was barely wide enough for both of them. Their thighs pressed against each other, both smiling at the necessity of sitting so close.

"Milton, Ciara told me you had some information for us?" At the mention of her name, Bronwyn had taken Ciara's hand in a gesture she hoped looked casual enough.

The older cleric nodded. "Yes, yes, of course." He sat down behind his desk. "You wanted to know a little more background about Mr Smith's business in the church and, if I understood correctly, his religious conduct."

Ciara nodded. "Yes, I suppose you found some irregularities?"

Harris chuckled. "Indeed." He turned a little more towards Bronwyn. "Did you know that Mrs Smith didn't start out as a Catholic?"

Both women shook their heads.

"Her family are C of E and that's how she was brought up. When they married, she not only took his name but his religion. And as far as I've been able to find out, his family and hers didn't approve of the union at first."

Bronwyn shrugged. "Okay, but that was, what, thirty years ago?"

"Roughly, yeah." He nodded. "But that's probably why he never took control of her money. Her father tied it all up in various trusts and funds."

"We didn't find any prenups or anything like that." Bronwyn shrugged.

“You probably wouldn’t, as the father did all the work. But more interesting to our little story is the husband, wouldn’t you say?”

Bronwyn nodded. She felt Ciara’s grip tighten around her hand.

"He comes from a long line of traditional Catholics. You could call them fundamentalists. And the most important thing I learned is that he doesn't belong to the cathedral parish."

Ciara tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Harris shrugged. "Even though he works for the Cathedral, he doesn't worship there. I suppose he attends services occasionally, but his main parish is a remote little church called St Agatha."

"Please don't tell me they've canonised Agatha Christie!" Bronwyn grimaced.

Harris laughed. "No. Well, not yet." He winked at her. "On the surface, it seems a quaint little church with a quaint little congregation."

"On the surface." Bronwyn's interest was piqued.

"Yes. You see. At first, I didn't really bat an eyelid. When Ciara asked me to look into it, I thought it was nothing to write home about. In a church like Westminster Cathedral, the congregation always has to share. There are so many tourists that the parishioners' worship is sometimes interrupted. It is not too far-fetched that a devout Catholic might seek a smaller parish. Especially since his family used to worship at St Agatha's".

"That doesn't sound like much of a clue. I suppose this is the surface?"

The Reverend nodded. "My first task was to check the online church records and look at the church website in general. There's not much there. The only thing I noticed was a lot of fairly conservative clubs and groups."

"Fits the type of man he is." Bronwyn shrugged.

"I don't know him personally, but I was intrigued because it all seems so outdated and very male-oriented."

"What do you mean?" Ciara had kept quiet so far, not wanting to interrupt the conversation, but she was beginning to wonder why Milton Harris had asked them to come here. Not that she minded a little outing with Bronwyn.

"Usually, you have a lot of women running groups and clubs, being appointed as church elders or heading up the fundraising. With St Agatha, I would say 95% of the names on their website are male. There's hardly a woman in their photographs.

“Winchesters first gay catholic congregation?” Bronwyn smirked.

Harris shook his head. “I don’t think so. That’s why I dug a little deeper and called a colleague, we used to play tennis together, he’s a catholic priest and has a little parish not far from Winchester.”

“And he was able to shed some light?” Bronwyn mused.

“He told me there’s something off. And I think here you come back into the story.” Harris sighed.

“As I said, I only scratched the surface, but there are rumours about this little parish.”

“Rumours? What kind of rumours?”

“Rumours about a very rigid and conservative group of men. Men who…” He wrung his hands on the desktop. “I don’t know how to say this.” Harris looked at Bronwyn. “I think they are doing things.”

Bronwyn felt Ciara press against her side. “Things like what? Dan Brown Davinci Code things or Jimmy Saville things?”

“Worst case scenario a bit of both.” Harris sounded defeated.

“You’re trying to tell me that a proper police background check came up empty and you just called up a bloody tennis mate and uncovered a secret society or a pedo ring within a few hours? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Ciara could hear Bronwyn’s accent becoming more pronounced as she tried to rein in her temper.

“No.” Harris shook his head. “I don’t think it is a secret society, and I also don’t think they are doing unspeakable things to children. Or at least I hope so.”

“Reverend Harris, Milton, please. You have to be a bit more specific.”

“That’s the issue. I don’t have specifics. My Friend told me that the men of this parish keep a tight reign over their wives and daughters. There had been rumours about domestic violence. You, as a police officer, can check the police records to see if there is a cluster of police reports around this church".

"If they have been reported." Bronwyn sighed. "Besides, I don't know if we can filter our records by parish. I dare say we don't collect that data."

Ciara squeezed her hand gently.

"So, you think Smith might be involved in some sort of group that might be violent towards women?" Ciara furrowed her brow.

Harris just shrugged.

"He shrugged." Bronwyn's voice was amused as she realized, she was not the only forgetting to reply verbally.

"My apologies. I forgot."

Ciara smiled. "It's okay. I'm getting used to it."

"Hey. I'm still learning." Bronwyn played hurt. "But back to the point. I can check the police reports, of course, but I need names. Or lists of community members. And I need something more substantial than the rumour that they 'do things'." She made air quotes with her free hand, unintentionally drawing Reverend Harris' attention to her other hand.

A thin smile played on his lips.

"I see. If I may, I will give your contact details to my friend and ask him to contact you directly. He has agreed to help, so why not cut out me, the middleman."

"Of course."

"Also, I believe Mrs Smith still visited her old parish quite regularly. It might be an idea to check there too. I've already emailed Ciara the Reverend's address and contact details. I believe Mrs Smith did some volunteer work there."

"Yes," Bronwyn nodded, "we already have the addresses of the places where she volunteered, I'll probably check them out tomorrow.”

The door opened slightly, and Bunny's head appeared. "If you're finished here, I might have a cup of coffee in the dining room and some Torta Negra I made today, an Argentinean recipe I've been meaning to try for ages.” She smiled at them.

Harris beamed at the promise of cake. "Yes, dear. Perfect timing, we're about finished."

Bronwyn looked at Ciara, "What do you say, coffee and a snack for the road? It's getting late anyway."

 A wry smile appeared on her features, "I think a hot coffee would be a nice way to end the evening."

 As they got up to follow Bunny into the dining room, Milton stepped closer, "You know I also officiate couples like you?" He winked at Bronwyn.

A broad grin appeared on Ciara's face. "We'll think about it."

"I think I need to be wooed a little more." Bronwyn stifled a laugh.

Bunny had already set the table and when they sat down. She started pouring the coffee, taking a second to explain the setting to Ciara, just as Bronwyn had done during dinner. She served her a slice of torta before handing the plate to Bronwyn, who happily helped herself to a slice as well. She looked at the fruit bread like the torta from all sides before taking a bite.

It tasted delicious and, to Bronwyn's surprise, rather familiar. "What's it called again?"

"Torta Negra." Bunny replied happily.

"From Argentina, you said?" Bronwyn frowned.

"Yes."

Bronwyn felt Ciara's hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently. "We had an Argentinian chef in the hotel a few years ago, he swore by his Torta Negra." She giggled.

Bunny seemed to be in on the joke, smiling too. "The recipe was brought there by Welsh settlers."

"I knew it!" Bronwyn laughed out loud. "You tricked me! It's a Bara Brith!"

She felt Ciara's hand slide a little further up her thigh.

Bunny laughed. "I had Milton ask what to bake, since I love baking. It was Ciara's idea."

Bronwyn dropped her hand from the table and cupped Ciara's. "Thank you. I haven't had a proper Bara Brith in years!"

"I really like it when you speak Welsh." She blushed and Bronwyn noticed Ciara's finger slipping between hers, moving back and forth in a familiar rhythm. A clear sign of Ciara's plans for the rest of the evening. Plans, that made a pleasant warmness spread from between her thighs.

Bronwyn smiled knowingly as she caught the tip of Ciara's finger and rubbed it with her thumb.

She disguised her little sigh as a blow on her hot coffee, but Bronwyn, sitting closest to her, noticed the faint blush.

Bunny had packed a large portion of the fruit bread as a travelling snack for them. A gift Bronwyn wasn't about to refuse. She was rather fond of the traditional Welsh bread but had never found the time to revive the recipe her grandma had given her.

When they had left, Ciara had kept her cane in her bag. Instead of just grabbing her by the elbow, she had linked arms with Bronwyn and held her close, matching her stride along the garden path. She had been so close to her all day, and Bronwyn had enjoyed every second, every casual brush or touch, and the way her perfume mixed with her own scent.

She had parked in front of the B&B, the lights were still on in the little house.

"Honey, we're home!" She opened the driver's door and got out of the car.

Ciara opened her door and got out as Bronwyn collected their provisions and bag from the back seat. "You've got the keys, right?"

Ciara jingled the keys in her hand in reply.

Evans came around the car as she unfolded her cane, and locked arms with her again as they headed for the door.

"Looks like we won't be needing them." A light came on in the house and the front door opened.

"Hm?"

"The landlady just opened the door." Bronwyn nodded at the woman. "Good evening, you didn't have to wait at the door, you already gave us the key."

The older woman looked from Bronwyn to Ciara and down at the white cane swinging slightly in front of her.

"Oh." She just caught herself. "I just saw you park and thought I would give you both a proper welcome."

Bronwyn noticed how she looked at Ciara, a frown creasing her face. "So, you're her caretaker? Shall I put you in the other room? I mean the one with the two separate beds?"

She stepped closer to Ciara and waved her hand in front of her face.

"Excuse me?" Bronwyn was taken aback. She heard Ciara smirk next to her.

"Thank you for the offer, but we can manage for this one night." Ciara's tone was friendly and polite.

She leaned closer to Bronwyn. "Let's go inside, I need you to take care of me." She giggled.

Bronwyn huffed and gritted her teeth. The elderly landlady was still blocking the door.

"Thank you, we can manage, but it is quite late, and we have a long day tomorrow."

"Are you quite sure?" the landlady reluctantly stepped aside.

"Quite." Bronwyn took another step.

"But the bathroom is inaccessible."

There was an odd grin on Ciara's face.

"Ma'am, I assure you we will manage just fine." Bronwyn's hand tightened around Ciaras’.

Looking to her for further reassurance, the landlady finally stepped aside, watching them closely as they crossed the threshold.

"Good night," Bronwyn murmured as they passed her.

"Room three, on the left." Ciara whispered in her ear, nodding politely in the direction of what she assumed was the landlady. "Good night."

As soon as the door closed behind them, Ciara started to laugh. "Oh dear!"

"How often does this happen to you?" Bronwyn's tone was still tense.

"Oh, more times than I care to count. Just to confirm, did she wave a hand in front of me?"

"You didn't see it?" There was concern in Bronwyn's voice. "Yes, she did."

Ciara pulled her closer, hugging her tightly. "It's too dark, it has been all day. It's OK though."

"If you say so." The taller woman sounded doubtful.

"As long as you're close." She kissed her.

Bronwyn sighed, pulling her even closer. "So much to learn."

"Yes, true, and we should take advantage of this learning opportunity. Since I've never been in here before, I can teach you how to map a room with me, so I won't cause a ruckus when I have to use the lavy during the night."

"Map the room, sure. Let me get the lights first. It might help if one of us can actually see what she's doing."

"You have a point." Ciara grinned as she heard the light switch click and a sharp intake of air next to her.

"Bronwyn?"

"Oh shit."

"Bronwyn? What is it?" There was concern in Ciara's voice.

Bronwyn started to giggle. "You won't believe this."

"What is it?"

"Remember I told you the room felt a bit stuffy? Well, as I'd just dragged the bags in and the sun was already setting, I didn't turn the lights on. Barely gave the room a second look."

"Yeah?"

"Well," Bronwyn sighed. "The room is crammed, there are doilies on every surface and two dolls sitting on the sofa. And," she swallowed audibly, "there's an oil painting of a crying clown."

"You're kidding me." Ciara laughed again.

"No." Bronwyn looked around the crammed room, "I think for the first time I envy you."

"That bad?"

"Worse." She shuddered. "But I will survive it for a night. Now explain the mapping to me."

Ciara grinned and began to explain to her how to map a room. They spent the next fifteen minutes walking back and forth between the bed, the chairs and the bathroom. She taught Bronwyn how to count steps and give directions.

Bronwyn couldn't help feeling that it amused Ciara to no end to hear her describe the horrible decor in excruciating detail.

"Thank you for teaching me." Still standing in the middle of the room, Bronwyn took her in her arms. "I think I understand a bit more now. And hopefully I won't feel so awkward."

"I never got the feeling you felt uncomfortable around me?" Ciara began to tug gently at her shirt.

"Well, there were moments."

Bronwyn felt Ciara's hands move up the front of her blouse, slowly unbuttoning it. "I think, as my caretaker, you should start taking care of me." She grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

As she broke the kiss, Bronwyn sighed. "Sorry, love, I can't, not with that clown watching."

Ciara's laughter filled the room. "Then turn off the lights!"

Bronwyn did as she was told and a few minutes later they slipped under the covers together, completely naked. Ciara crawled up to her and held her close.

She sighed as she felt her fingers run between her breasts, caressing them gently, playing with her slowly hardening nipples. She shivered at the light touch on her hardening buds as the moisture spread between her legs.

Ciara still rubbed her nipples gently.

"Do you know how to read Braille?" Bronwyn wondered.

"Yes," Ciara's fingers flicked between her nipples. "But these Braille dots are too far apart to read," she giggled. Her head disappeared under the blanket and a second later Bronwyn gasped as she felt Ciara nibble her nipple gently.

"Ciara bach?" She nudged her a little. "I really appreciate your efforts, but..."

"But?" Ciara's head reappeared beside her.

"The residual light from the lanterns outside."

"Yes?"

"The clown is watching us."

Ciara giggled. "Just don't look."

"I can't!"

"Hm," she felt Ciara's weight shift and suddenly they were nose to nose. Ciara blinked several times. "You wanted me to teach you."

"Yes?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes?" Bronwyn watched curiously as Ciara got out of bed. She quickly rifled through her bag and hurried back under the warm covers.

Ciara pulled out a thin silk scarf. "Time to prove it." Her hands found Bronwyn's face and she carefully wrapped the cloth over her eyes.

"Do you think this is a good idea?"

"Well? Does the clown still bother you?" Ciara giggled.

"Nope."

"See?"

"Nope." Bronwyn joined in the giggles.

"Just relax and enjoy."  

She felt Ciara's weight shift again as her thigh pressed against her pubic mound, spreading her legs gently. Cautiously, her hands found Ciara's body. Exploring by touch what she could no longer see. Ciara's nose brushed against her cheek, finding its way to her lips, they locked in a playful kiss, their tongues exploring each other's mouths.

It was different than just making love in the dark, Bronwyn's eyes were closed under the scarf, and thus the last residual light was completely blocked out. There were no shapes or shadows. With both of them blind their lovemaking was slow and sensual. Holding each other tightly, they massaged each other's clits, finding a common rhythm. For Bronwyn every touch seemed to intensify, she felt her orgasm building and felt Ciara stir in her arms as the first waves hit her too. They held each other tight. Bronwyn could feel Ciara's heart beating against her own chest.

Still blindfolded, she carefully turned Ciara onto her back. Her face was so close she could feel her breath on her skin, her nose brushing against her cheek, and she understood how Ciara would find her lips for a kiss. Using her nose as a guide, she moved closer to her lips. She found them partially open, and her tongue slipped inside. Ciara gave her a warm, wet welcome, their tongues entwined. Bronwyn's hand slowly explored her body, her skin feeling so soft and delicate under her touch.

When she touched the first pubic hairs her touch became even lighter, and she followed the swell of her outer lips with a single fingertip. Ciara moaned into her mouth, and she spread her legs, inviting her closer.

Bronwyn broke their kiss and began to map her body with kisses, her finger still gently circling her lips. She found her breasts and took her time, circling the erect nipples, kissing and softly biting them. She could feel Ciara's pleasure rising as she began to arch into her touch. Sucking one of her nipples over her teeth, she finally dipped her finger between her lips. Feeling how wet she was turned Bronwyn on even more and she continued her journey downwards. She found Ciara's navel and although she had never really paid attention to the small, inverted button, she now began to circle it with her tongue. Ciara moaned with pleasure as Bronwyn's finger finally brushed her clit and her tongue plunged into her navel. Bronwyn felt her own juices slowly trickle down her thigh, turned on by Ciara's sounds and scent, by her very being.

She wanted to smell it, taste it, feel its wetness covering her face.

Licking and kissing her way down, her finger was soon replaced by her tongue. Ciara moaned loudly as Bronwyn began to suck on her clit, flicking her tongue over it. With ease she slid two fingers inside her, slowly fingering her as she savoured the taste. Bronwyn felt like she could orgasm just from the taste and smell of Ciara. From her warmth and movement. She felt she was close, but there was one more thing. She kept her rhythm on her clit as she slowly withdrew her fingers, carefully following the swell of her form until her lubricated forefinger found her sphincter.

Ciara felt her finger and tried to press down on it. That was all Bronwyn needed as an invitation, and she slowly pushed her finger deep inside her lover. Ciara's moans grew louder, her breathing harder. Bronwyn buried her finger inside her and began to move it back and forth, matching the rhythm of her tongue on her clit. Ciara couldn't stand it any longer. Bronwyn felt her move before she arched her back off the bed, grunting and moaning.

Bronwyn loved those sounds. Making someone come like that felt amazing to her.

Carefully, she slid her finger out and planted a final kiss on her clit before crawling up and lying down beside her.

"Are you still blind?" She felt Ciara's fingertips find her face, searching for the scarf.

"Yes, are you?" Bronwyn giggled.

"Pf!" Ciara gave her a little nudge. "Although," she kissed her cheek, "that orgasm made me see all the colours of the rainbow."

"On that note..." Bronwyn pulled her closer. She found her hand and slowly led it south. "I may have some unfinished business for you." She spread her legs as Ciara's hand slid between them.

"Wow, you're wet." Ciara parted her lips and immediately slid two fingers inside her. Bronwyn's hips buckled.

"Oh God!" She pressed against Ciara's hand.

Ciara held her close, pressing the length of her body against hers as she added a third finger, picking up a more forceful rhythm. Resting her head on the taller woman's shoulder, she thrust deep inside her until she felt her move and then came the moan. That pleasure-laden groan she so loved to hear. Bronwyn squeezed her thighs together, trapping Ciara's fingers inside her as she writhed and moaned.

Relaxing her thighs again, she released Ciara's hand from its prison. She felt her fingers slide out, leaving a wet trail across her belly.

For a while they just lay there, lost in each other's arms, enjoying the warmth.

"You know you can take the scarf off?"

"I don't want to the clown scares me." Bronwyn giggled, but eventually took off the scarf.