Squire’s Isle Created by Geonn Cannon

First Night

Summary: Jill and Patricia spend their first night alone in the mayor’s mansion.

(connected to, but not necessarily a follow-up to Don and Sancho)

After Nicholas left with Michael, Jill and Patricia were too busy unpacking boxes to realize they were alone in the mayor’s residence. Jill was the first to realize it but she kept quiet to see how long it took Patricia to come to the same conclusion. The windows were darkening with the early twilight of winter when Patricia walked to the front foyer, pushed her hands under her hair, dragged them down over the collar of her blouse, and then turned to see Jill watching her with bemusement.

“We don’t have to leave, do we?”

Jill shook her head. “Not unless you want to. I brought blankets and pillows, so if you want to camp out here tonight…”

Patricia looked at the front door again, then reached out and nudged it shut with a brush of her fingers. It shut with a loud thump, shutting away the rest of the world. Patricia turned in a slow circle and looked up the stairs, then to the rooms on either side. She laughed and said, “Our house. This is our house, because I’m the mayor. Sorry I keep saying crap like that.”

“No, it’s good. You have to make it real to let it sink in.” Jill crossed the foyer and embraced her from behind. “I did the same thing after you asked me to marry you.”

Patricia stroked Jill’s arms. “How about I go grab some dinner and we picnic in the living room?”

“Sounds great. I’ll set up somewhere for us to sleep tonight.”

“Okay.” Patricia turned and kissed Jill. “What do you feel like? Chinese, pizza, chicken?”

“Chicken. I have a craving.”

Patricia kissed Jill’s temple. “I’ll be back soon.”

Jill reluctantly let go of Patricia and waved goodbye as she left the house. Once the car had pulled away down the drive, Jill went upstairs. She passed Michael’s room and stopped at the door to what was currently a small study. A year earlier she had been a guest in the house attending a Christmas party being held by her domestic partner’s boss. Now she was a resident of the house, wife of the town’s mayor. Maybe in another year’s time the study would have been transformed into a nursery.

She let the fantasy linger for a moment, picturing where the crib would go and what color they would paint the walls. She brushed her finger over the door frame and then walked to the master bedroom on the other side of the landing. The room was separated from the entrance by a walk-in closet on either side before expanding into a space that was luxurious even when mostly unfurnished. The bed was still there, but it had been stripped of sheets and linens. They had a lavish bathroom, and a window seat that looked out over the eastern side of town.

Jill knelt on the padding and pressed her cheek to the cold glass. She could see the elementary school but, more importantly, she could see part of Spring Street and the laundromat where she had first met Patricia Lynn Hood. An incidental meeting, a quick bout of sex that was meant to be casual, and the creation of a bond that neither of them could fight. Almost six years ago now, but it felt like days.

She stepped down off the window seat and faced the bedroom, eyeing the boxes before she committed to opening one of them. She took one down and knelt with it in the center of the room. She removed the blankets and sheets to make the bed, then dug deeper and found framed photographs. Her family. She touched their faces through the glass.

She had grown up in foster care. Her mother, sixteen years old and deaf, never really had the option of keeping her. The only thing she’d been able to contribute was Jill’s name. Fingerspelling the name used the pinkie, index finger and thumb, and when combined they formed the sign for “I Love You.” Her earliest memory was when she was three or four and being taken to a foster home, lying in a strange bed that first night. She’d shared a room with two brothers and three sisters.

After lights-out, she’d heard scuffling as her new siblings got out of bed. She was too scared to move as they placed their shoes on top of her blankets. Eventually all five pairs were lined up down the center of her chest. When they were done, one of the boys matter-of-factly said, “We don’t want you here.” Then they went back to their own beds and went back to sleep. Jill was too afraid of accidentally knocking the shoes off and waking her new parents to move, so she lay perfectly still and stared at the support braces of the bunk bed above hers until morning.

Things settled down after that first hazing. The other kids warmed to her, and eventually she even became friends with her sisters. But she never forgot that first night, and she never let herself feel like it was her home or her family. They were just her guardians. She left the house when she was eighteen, taking only her new surname with her when she went to college. As a result, she had never really felt wanted anywhere. She chose where to go to college, she chose her apartment when she came back to the island.

Then one night, Patricia whispered, “Move in with us,” against her neck. It was the first time Jill had been invited into a relationship, had been offered a home. She felt wanted and loved, and she accepted on the spot even before they worked out how, exactly, to break the news to Michael. But he’d welcomed her as well. At some point when she wasn’t paying attention, she had changed in his eyes. She wasn’t his former teacher anymore, she was his mother.

She sighed to steady her breathing and put the pictures aside. She didn’t want to hang any pictures, and she didn’t feel like doing anything strenuous. Just getting the boxes from one house to the other was enough of a workout for the day. She picked up the sheets and carried them to the bed, deciding she could get that task out of the way before she and Patricia retired for the night. She had gotten the sheets in place and was working on the blankets when she heard Patricia come home.

“Jill?”

“Up here. Master bedroom.”

Patricia arrived as Jill pulled the blankets from a box and arranged them against the headboard. The smell of fried chicken made Jill’s mouth water.

“I’m almost done in here.”

“Very nice work. I didn’t know the house came with a live-in maid, but I could get used to it.” Jill chuckled. “I got some paper plates. Cups?”

“Uh, kitchen counter, I think.”

Patricia nodded. “Okay. And be sure you dust above the doors. It was terribly dusty the last time I did the white-glove test. I’d hate to punish you again.”

“Yes, Madam Mayor,” Jill demurred. Patricia chuckled as she went back downstairs. Jill smoothed her palm over the bed again and started to follow her, but she thought about the small backpack she had brought along with them. It had been stuffed under the passenger seat so neither Michael or Nicholas would spot it and get curious, but she’d transferred it to the master bathroom just after the boys left. She hadn’t brought it along as part of a plan, but she wanted to have it available in the event it became needed.

She rearranged a couple of boxes until she found one labeled clothes. She dug through them carefully so she wouldn’t ruin the neatly folded items until she found what she wanted. She took off the jeans and sweater she’d worn for the move and changed as quickly as she could into black stockings, a black shirt, and a black button-down blouse. She put her hair up, not minding that it was a sloppy job when time was of the essence, then retrieved the backpack and headed downstairs.

Patricia had taken the time to set up a meal on the kitchen counter. Four candles formed a square between the plates, and Patricia finished pouring the wine before she looked up.

“I figured this is the closest we’ll get to a honeymoon.” She ran her eyes over Jill’s outfit. “Oh. You changed. Should I…?”

“No, Madam Mayor,” Jill said. “Where is the kitchen box?”

Patricia pointed, head tilted to the side as Jill opened it and retrieved something. She wrapped the strings of an apron around her waist, cinched it tight, and turned to face Patricia.

“I would be honored to dine with you, Mayor Hood, if you don’t think it inappropriate.”

The corners of Patricia’s mouth curved in understanding. “Not at all. Please.”

Jill passed close to Patricia and leaned in to whisper. “I didn’t know you were going to make this so romantic. We can drop it and just have a honeymoon–”

“No, I love it.” Patricia raised her voice to regular speaking level. “Despite the invitation to join me at dinner, I do expect a little more decorum than speaking to me with such familiarity, Ms. Colby.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

Jill deposited the backpack by Patricia’s stool as casually as she could before she went around to her side of the counter. She smoothed the back of her skirt against her thighs and settled in. Patricia bent down, opened the backpack, and looked inside.

“Oh.”

“Just a suggestion.”

“It’s a good one. Well done, Miss Colby.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

They ate, breaking character when necessary and talking about real-life topics while they established their roles in the little scenario Jill had set up for them. Jill was the house maid and Patricia was, of course, the new mayor. Although the game’s Mayor Hood was a bit more of a dominating bitch than the real Mayor Hood-Colby.

“So it’s the mayor you would have been if we’d never met,” Jill joked.

Patricia shook her head. “Then it’s a total fantasy. I wouldn’t be mayor if we hadn’t met.” She took Jill’s hand. “You made me want to be better. You made me happy with my life in a way I hadn’t been in a…” She chewed her bottom lip and looked down at her food. “I was never happy, Jill. I didn’t want to be gay, so I married a man. It made me miserable, and even when I started sleeping with women, I was just content. I needed to be in love with a woman. I needed to be in love with you. If I hadn’t found you, I’d still be working in the payment department at City Hall, processing water bills and scheduling maintenance. There could never have been a Mayor Patricia Hood. Only Hood-Colby.”

Jill squeezed Patricia’s fingers. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

“You know how many times I wanted to give up this past year? And how often I needed you for strength, and you were always right there. If you hadn’t been, I’d have backed out. Thank you, Jill. In case I haven’t said it enough, thank you.”

Jill kissed Patricia’s hand, then lightly returned it to the counter. “Thank you, Mayor Hood. Shall I clear the plates?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She wiped her lips and fingers, then slid off her stool. She picked up the backpack and slung the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll be upstairs getting ready for our nightly ritual. Don’t be late, Miss Colby, or I shall be very cross with you.”

Jill dipped her head quickly. “Yes, Madam Mayor.” She patted Patricia on the rear end as she passed, smiling at Patricia’s chuckle. She deposited the chicken bones in a plastic bag, double-knotted it and placed it in the otherwise empty garbage can. She rinsed off the plates and cups and set them aside to be reused, dried her hands, and took a moment to fix her hair into a more serviceable ponytail before she walked through the eerily silent house.

When she arrived at the master bedroom the door was open, and the only light came from a few candles on the nightstand and bureau. Jill smiled when she saw Patricia had left the overhead lights off. The electric service was still on, but something about the evening required candlelight. She paused at the threshold and waited, seeing Patricia’s shadow moving in the bathroom. “Ma’am?”

“Come in, dear. Stand by the bed.”

Jill walked to the foot of the bed and turned toward the bathroom. A second later Patricia came out, backlit by the candlelight. Her hair was down, and the last two inches of a realistic cock peeked out from under the hem of her red camisole. Jill wet her lips and dragged her eyes back up to Patricia’s face. She smiled, and Patricia stepped into the room.

“How do I look?”

“You look lovely, ma’am.”

They had first discussed sex toys after they’d been dating for a few months. They went to an adult bookstore on the mainland with the purpose of buying a few DVDs and maybe a few props to play with in the bedroom. Patricia had guided Jill over to a wall display of dildos, and Jill had raised a skeptical eyebrow. Patricia had been surprised.

Jill shrugged. “I’ve never been a big fan of… insertion. Nothing bigger than–” She lifted Patricia’s right hand and held up two fingers. She considered it for a moment, then pushed up a third finger as well. “That’s my limit.” Patricia had started to pout, but Jill cut it off by pressing against her side and whispered, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t buy you one. Pick one out for me.”

That night they inaugurated James. He was followed by John, Joseph, Jeremiah, and Jack. Attachments of various length, girth, curve and ability (Jeremiah could vibrate, whereas Jack had an attachment that pressed up against Jill’s clitoris in a… very… acceptable way). One night Jill had papers to grade, so Patricia went into the bedroom to enjoy a DVD with Jack. When Jill joined her she watched for a moment, then slid under the blankets and began kissing her neck.

“Want to take over?” Patricia whispered.

Jill hesitated and then said, “I want you to use it on me.”

Patricia looked at her, gauging to see if she was sure, and Jill nodded. “I trust you,” she said softly. “I want you to.”

Patricia had been gentle with her, taking her time to ensure it wasn’t too much too soon. After that night Jill had been willing let Patricia use toys on her from time to time.

Now Patricia walked out of the bathroom and approached the bed. She gestured and said, “You changed your hair.”

“I did… do you disapprove?”

“Put it down, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She undid the ponytail and threaded the hair through her fingers as Patricia stood in front of her. When it was down, Patricia reached up and stroked it, letting her fingers drop down to Jill’s breast. Jill closed her eyes as Patricia gently squeezed it, then moved to the other and repeated the gesture. Jill lifted one foot and put it over the other to cross her ankles, hands behind her back to push her chest out.

“Very nice,” Patricia murmured. “I don’t know what responsibilities you had before, but under my supervision you will be required to take on several additional responsibilities. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She lowered her voice to a near-whisper. “I want to make you happy, ma’am.”

Jill saw the true response in Patricia’s eyes, but out loud she said, “We’ll see if you’re able. I’m not above firing you if you displease me.”

“I’ll do whatever you say, ma’am.”

Patricia stroked Jill’s cheek. “Get on your knees, Miss Colby.”

Jill did as she was told. She lifted the lingerie off Patricia’s dildo, bunching it near the base where it would obscure the harness, and used her tongue to guide the tip into her mouth. Patricia sighed and stroked Jill’s hair, smiling down at her as she stretched her lips around the head and took the shaft into her mouth. She hadn’t been able to tell just from a glimpse, but now that it was in her mouth she recognized Joseph. Or, since Patricia was wearing it, maybe its name was Preston.

She put off naming her wife’s dick and focused on getting it wet, the true purpose of the blow job. She sucked the tip, swept her tongue under the ridge of the head, and then took it as deeply into her throat as she could without gagging. She pulled back with a gasp, letting the cock fall from her mouth. She wet her fingers on her tongue and stroked the lower part of the shaft, sucking the tip again.

“That’s good, baby.” Jill could hear the need in her voice and pulled back. She wiped her hand across her mouth and waited for the next order. “Stand up and turn around. Put your hands on the bed.”

Jill rose, the muscles of her thighs burning as she pushed herself up and twisted. She bent forward slightly, hands resting on the mattress as she looked over her shoulder. Patricia stroked the curve of Jill’s ass, eyes on her face, and she smiled and winked as she pinched the material and slowly lifted the skirt like it was a veil. She pulled down Jill’s stockings and panties, kissing the smooth skin before she lifted up and stepped into position.

She rubbed a circle in the small of Jill’s back and Jill closed her eyes. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“No…”

“Trish?”

“Yes.” It was a gasp, a growl, and Patricia cleared her throat as she circled Jill’s sex with the blunt tip of the toy. After a moment, just before Jill was going to say please, she pushed inside of her. Jill hissed quietly and balled her fists in the blankets. If pressed she would still say she wasn’t a fan of penetration, but when Patricia was inside of her… there was no question that she loved it. Patricia made a quiet sound of pleasure as she pulled back out, her thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of Jill’s ass cheeks.

Patricia moved slowly, the way she knew Jill liked it. Fast was too much, but slow was just right. She tightened around the shaft, looking past her hunched shoulders to watch Patricia’s face. As much as she had learned to enjoy being taken this way, Patricia was a natural. She loved the position, the rhythm, and part of Jill’s enjoyment came from watching Patricia get off on it.

She dropped her head and pressed back to meet Patricia’s hips, the dildo fully inside of her now. “Touch me,” Jill whispered, and Patricia’s hand slid around her waist. She grunted as two of Patricia’s fingers found her clit. She wet them with Jill’s juices, pinching the clit between them as she continued to thrust. Jill trembled and bit her upper arm gently, wrinkling her nose as she tightened around Patricia.

“Gonna come?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jill murmured. She stretched her arms out in front of her and dropped so that her cheek was resting on the blanket. “Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Patricia laughed.

Jill smiled, but the expression was short-lived. “Oh, shit… Trish…”

“Come on, baby… c’mon.”

Jill squeezed her eyes shut and didn’t fight it when she felt her orgasm building. She reached back and Patricia found her arm and gripped her wrist. Jill gripped Patricia’s wrist and moaned her name as she came. Patricia leaned down, Jill’s hips fitting neatly into the bend of Patricia’s, and kissed her hair and her neck. When Jill was able she straightened out, pulling away from Patricia’s cock as Patricia leaned back and eased it free.

Jill watched as Patricia undid the buckle and let the harness drop. She pulled the camisole over her head and tossed it. Once she was naked, she joined her fully-dressed wife on the bed and kissed her, covering Jill’s body with her own. Jill ran her hand over Patricia’s breasts, down her ribs and over her stomach before she found the soft patch of pubic hair between her legs. Patricia sat up to break the kiss and Jill looked into her eyes as she pushed her first two fingers against the folds. Patricia exhaled sharply in response, and Jill smiled.

“You’re… so bad,” Patricia sighed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Patricia’s laugh transformed into a groan. She rested her forehead against Jill’s and made a quiet mewling sound in the back of her throat. “ComingI’mcoming,” she said, then rested her full weight against Jill’s hand. “Ah God, yes, Jill, sweetheart.” The words came out on a single flood of breath, and then Patricia went stiff. Jill admired the lines of her body, the way the tendons in her neck stood out and the red flush that spread across her chest, rolling her thumb against Patricia’s clit until she sagged limply forward.

They cuddled together in the middle of the bed, kissing and whispering to each other. Finally Patricia plucked the collar of Jill’s shirt.

“You’re still completely dressed.”

“No, I’m not. My panties are over there somewhere.”

“Still. Not fair.”

Jill kissed Patricia’s eyebrow. “So undress me.”

Patricia sat up and took her time, discarding each item as she went. She stroked the curves of Jill’s breast and the plane of her stomach, bending down to kiss her navel, then her nipple, then her pubic hair before she moved on. When they were both naked, Patricia untucked the blankets and drew them up over their bodies. Jill nuzzled Patricia’s throat and held her tightly.

“I think this will be a good home,” Patricia whispered.

Jill smiled. “I think it already is.”

Patricia smiled. “Good night, Mrs. Hood-Colby.”

“Good night, Madam Mayor.” She grinned against Patricia’s collarbone, Patricia’s hand stroking her hair, and fell asleep assured that she was welcome in this house as well. Any house of Patricia’s was hers as well. It may have taken her longer than most people, but she had finally found her place in the world.

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