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Flower takes her by the hand and leads her into the house. She's giggling at the way Hetty's blushing, seemingly to enjoy the affect her words have on her.
"I am a lady!" Hetty protests. "I- I- I could never! That is so-"
Flower tilts her head and the words die upon her lips. Being ashamed of female pleasure is some bullshit thing that men made up control women. Hetty is still learning. She is still caught up on the idea that the world now is different from now she knew it. If women can have opinions that contradict a man's, why is this any different?
Still, this is perhaps a step too far.
Touching herself, that's simply obscene!
"Ladies can!" Flower smiles warmly. "You will see!"
Hetty lets her lead up the stairs and into her room. Warmth spreads through her chest and she quickly let's go of Flower's hand.
"But-…" she struggles. "But… I don't…"
"Didn't the washing machine make you feel good?" Flower doesn't seem put out. She sits down and pats the bed next to her. "Didn't you enjoy it?"
"Well, yes. But…" She closes her eyes as the memory sweeps over her. The rumble beneath her hips, the heat that spread through her body, the way she felt more relaxed that she had in years. "I've never…" She inhales sharply and shakes her head. "I'm better than that. I have control."
"Control?"
Hetty opens her eyes and looks at Flower.
Flower has pulled her legs up next to her on the bed, rucking her skirt up to expose a length of leg. Hetty has involuntarily become used to seeing uncovered skin—Trevor literally doesn't wear pants. But something about the look in Flower's eyes and the way she crooks her finger has her blushing.
"Why do you have to control yourself?" Flower asks earnestly. "Because they told you so?"
Hetty bites her lip. She grew up in a society that taught her that her body wasn't her own.
"When I was in the commune, I was involved with many different people. I-"
"Yes, yes! I am aware of your-" Hetty gestures vaguely, "-liasons with multiple people."
"But not all the time. Sometimes I was by myself. And I needed to feel more."
Flower beckons her again and this time Hetty walks over to her. She sits on the bed next to her and tries to not think about Flower with other people. She has heard her stories before. Two others, sometimes more. Many nights of passion between them. She tries not to compare them to her marriage. She never quite understood that intercourse could have any use beyond bearing children. But after her experience with the washing machine, doubts begun to form.
"The body is so sensitive," Flower says. "Ghosts can't come but that doesn't mean we can't feel good."
Hetty clears her throat and shifts uncomfortably. They aren't sitting in a sunbeam so why does she feel so warm?
"And by good, you mean?"
"Imagine the washing machine but double. Triple." Flower leans towards her. "You're in control of your body. You control your pleasure."
Her pleasure. A shiver rolls down her spine.
"Maybe you need a demonstration!" Flower suddenly beams. "Why don't you watch me."
"Watch you?! What, touch yourself?" Hetty gasps in shock. "I couldn't!"
But her eyes follow Flower's hands that have started to wander. Up to her chest. Palming her breasts over her clothes. She can't help but watch as she gathers herself in her hands and makes a noise that has Hetty blushing.
Everything in her tells her that this is wrong but if that's so, why does it feel so right? Why does her mouth dry and why can't she look away?
Flower touches herself and groans. She squeezes and plays with herself, eyes closing as she gets into the moment. She is a vision of beauty, a wonderful freeness to how she doesn't shy from herself. Hetty swallows.
"It feels good," Flower breathes. "Here. Here. Here."
Her hands roam over her body and Hetty can't tear her eyes away.
"And when you can feel it burning-" how does she know how Hetty feels inside? "-you can move downwards."
Flower slides her hand her stomach and under the waistband of her skirt. Hetty knows where she's heading and the thought makes her head spin. She has never considered another woman's body before. But her mind runs wild. She can't see where her fingers end up but she can imagine. From what Flower has told her before and from the noises she's making.
Flower moans deeply and her hips shift with her. She finds a rhythm, rocking back and forward in front of her.
Hetty's hands squeeze together until her knuckles go white. Ghosts don't need to breathe and yet the air has been completely stolen from her lungs. The room suddenly seems so much smaller, shifting from the large bedroom of the B&B to just this bed and the two of them.
She aches but she doesn't know exactly what for. It must be the arousal that Flower spoke of.
A deep need in her bones, begging to reach out to her.
"Oh god," Flower exhales. "Yes, that hits the spot."
Her eyes open and she looks curiously up at her. Hetty, suddenly overcome with embarrassment of what she just watched, quickly looks away. But she can't hide the tension in her body or the way her cheeks are flushed.
"Did that help you?" Flower asks.
"Help is not the word I would use," she replies very normally. "But. I suppose it does make it more clear."
Flower laughs. "Does it?"
Hetty fixes her gaze on the floor and nods. "Yes. Yes. Uh. Very explainable."
"You don't sound very sure." Flower's voice suddenly comes from right beside her ear.
Hetty jerks away as if she had been electrocuted. She refuses to look at her because she doesn't know what would happen. She doesn't know what she wants to happen, only that she suddenly feels incredibly weak.
Flower lightly touches her shoulder. When she doesn't meet any resistant, her hand slides down her arm and a warm body presses to her back. Flower wraps around her like poisonous ivy on stone walls and exhales against her neck.
"Maybe you need some help?" she says softly.
"Help?"
"I can show you."
"I think you have shown me quite enough." But still she can't push her away.
Flower pauses. "Well. I could leave."
And Hetty bristles. Because she knows and Flower knows that that isn't what she wants.
They stay still, pressed against each other, for a few moments before Hetty heaves a weak sigh.
"Please. Flower. I… I don't know what to do."
It's an admission unbecoming of her but it's the truth. She doesn't know but she wants to. She wants to feel more. She wants her to help her feel more.
Flower nods, and then Hetty feels lips on her neck. Soft, gentle, exploring. Letting her get used to the feeling of another on her skin. Flower is careful to take it slow and while part of her burns for something quicker, she is glad of her consideration.
Hetty has been kissed before but it lacked heat. It lacked passion. She never felt like this.
Flower kisses her neck as her hands slide down to Hetty's wrists. She gently pulls them apart and it's only then that she sees the red marks from where her nails dug into her skin.
"Your dress is such a nuisance," Flower titters in her ear. "How on earth are you supposed to get under it?"
"You're not supposed to get under it," Hetty retorts.
But it's true. She doesn't have a waistband to slide her hand under. There are many layers and ruffles and it's awkward to try maneuver around. But somehow, they manage it. Somehow her hand finds itself on bare skin.
Flower guides her fingers upwards and the wetness startles her. It makes her feel gross and sticky. But all those thoughts are erased when she brushes over her core.
"Oh!"
She can almost hear Flower's smile.
"Yes, that's a good noise. Very cute."
"Cute?"
She should feel offended but she can't, not as she explores new territory. It is a part of her body that she is unfamiliar with it. And it feels so so good.
As she finds herself, Flower gradually releases her wrist. She hands the control back over to her and Hetty finds herself grabbing it. She presses down against her digits and weakly whimpers.
Flower returns her attention to her neck, murmuring words of praise. She gently strokes her arms and for the first time, Hetty understands the longing for another in the bedroom. She never wanted this with her late husband. She never thought it could feel good for herself. But this, oh god, it's simply amazing.
Hetty doesn't know how long she goes for but she loses herself in feeling her pleasure. She touches herself like she hasn't before.
It's electric and burning and brilliant. A head to toe feeling. She can't contain herself. She leans back against Flower and takes the comfort of another for her own.
This is hers. This is her control.
And she loves it.
Eventually, they collapse onto the bed together and Hetty lets out a weak breathy laugh.
"Oh my…"
"Yeah?" Flower grins. She rolls over until she's propped on her elbows next to her. "See? What did I tell you?"
Hetty's body hums pleasantly. She adjusts her skirts and tries to ignore the wetness on her fingers. She feels dirty but also so good at the same time. It's such a strange sensation. Contradictory but also very right.
"Ah. Perhaps, there is some truth in your commune's idea of pleasure," she admits.
Flower laughs again. "This isn't from the commune. This is just the modern woman's sexual freedom. You are doing so well."
"Hm. The modern world is fascinating."
There isn't much else she can say. It's all new to her but she is learning.
"Thank you."
"Anytime!" Flower claps her hands together. "This is so up my alley. There are so many other things I could show you."
"I think that's enough for today." Hetty finally sits up and gathers herself. "But yes. I suppose you could show me more."
Flower smiles and Hetty's warm cheeks flush even more if that's possible. She can't believe she just did that. With Flower nonetheless. But it does make an odd sort of a sense. And she thinks she likes it quite a bit.