Story: Blue-Haired Gray Eyes, Blue-Haired Brown Ones (chapter 6)

Authors: bleeding.blade

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Chapter 6

They are leaning against Tamao's tree, debating the relative merits of their favorite writers. Tamao treasures these spirited discussions. As much as she and Nagisa had shared common interests, Nagisa had never been her intellectual equal. Miyuki, however, is more than her equal, and she relishes the fact that she can talk about anything in the world with the older woman. It made her relationship with Miyuki, as far as connections on Astraea Hill went, decidedly unique.

Miyuki listens with a smile as Tamao punctuates her points with decisive gestures. A month had passed since the younger woman had been elected Student Council President. No one had contested. Tamao had been the natural candidate in everyone's eyes - which was why Miyuki had gone confidently ahead in mentoring the younger woman to begin with. In that relatively short span of time, Tamao had grown considerably. Leadership had activated her latent charisma. She was less reserved, less diffident, and more comfortable taking center stage. She was still Tamao, nonetheless, and sometimes still acted like a child in Miyuki's presence. Like now for instance.

"I have another love letter for you, Rokujō-sama." Tamao waves the letter in her senpai's face with a mischievous grin.

Miyuki tries to hide her embarrassment with a half-angry response.

"Honestly, why are they giving them to me only now? Where have I been these last six years?"

She tries to grab the letter from Tamao, but the younger girl is enjoying the older woman's discomfiture too much and bats her hand away. They tussle this way for a few moments until a miscalculated grab on Miyuki's part sends her crashing down against the younger woman. Lying against Tamao, Miyuki realizes somewhat belatedly just how much her protégé has matured - physically. The wide gray eyes are narrower, the cheekbones leaner, the breasts fuller, the waist slimmer, the legs longer. And the liquid desire in those newly narrow gray eyes is decidedly grown-up. Startled brown eyes look into smoldering gray ones.

"Tamao-san..." Miyuki breathes uncertainly.

In response, Tamao tugs on Miyuki's tie and kisses her mentor with sensuous abandon. Somewhere above, below, around or beyond them, a piece of paper rustles in the wind.


It is later in the afternoon; they are sitting quietly by Tamao's tree. The dusk is chilly, but the memory of their first kiss keeps them warm...and flushed. After they had pulled apart (after eons, it seemed), they had both been too startled to say anything: Tamao, by her own audacity, and Miyuki by her own blatantly passionate response. They both have a million questions to ask themselves, as well as the other, but their mutual confusion keeps them silent. Several moments pass. Then, unexpectedly, Miyuki begins to chuckle. Tamao looks at her mentor with surprise. Out of the many responses she has been anxiously anticipating from the older woman, she has not expected laughter. Miyuki smiles at the younger woman.

"You have to admit, Tamao...-chan, it is a little funny. Neither of us expected things to turn out this way, did we?"

Tamao looks at her mentor's face, searching for - and dreading to find - traces of irony, guilt, regret or disgust. But what she finds instead is tenderness, affection, amusement, and just the slightest hint of residual desire.

"Oh, I don't know about you...Miyuki-sama." Tamao responds nonchalantly. "But I've always suspected something since you hit me with that snowball."

Tamao scrambles away just in time, laughing, to avoid a missile thrown by a half-heartedly irate Miyuki.

"You've gotten too cocky for your own good, Tamao-chan." The older woman's grin belies the severity of her words.

Tamao replies demurely, "I learned from the best, Miyuki-sama."

They tease each other all the way back to Strawberry House.


It is nearly midnight; a nervous Tamao knocks on Miyuki's door. They both know they will find the other alone tonight. For the last several weeks, Shizuma and Nagisa have taken to sleeping in Kaori's old room. For the last few weeks, they have grown accustomed to their nocturnal solitude. Tonight, they positively relish it.

Miyuki answers the door, dressed only in a man's nightshirt. It is the first time she has seen Tamao with her hair down and with her arms and legs bare. Although she is dressed more warmly than the younger girl, she shivers.

Tamao enters silently and Miyuki locks the door behind her. They stare at each other silently, desire slowly building in the hush, until one of them, they can't remember later which one, makes the first move.

Their first kisses are violent and tender; soft and brutal. Tamao feels Miyuki's lips, tongue and teeth on her mouth, her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. Miyuki half tears the younger woman's negligee away, her mouth fastening on a delicate nipple. Using her tongue and her teeth, she nips, grazes and teases the engorged bud. Tamao whimpers, her back arching. Miyuki's left hand cups her other breast; the other removes the last of her clothing. A hand slips in between the younger girl's thighs, fingers slipping easily between the damp folds. Tamao moans and begins to move her hips rhythmically. Slowly, Miyuki's mouth and tongue abandon her breasts, and inch their way across her belly and thighs. Tamao begins to beg.


The brazen intimacy of hearing Tamao say her name without the honorific snaps the last of Miyuki's restraint. Her tongue flickers lightly at the juncture of Tamao's thighs causing the younger girl to gasp and moan. With bolder strokes, she tongues the younger girl, sucking, licking and biting gently in turns. Then she slowly inserts a finger into the girl, timing the thrusts with the motions of her tongue. She can feel the younger girl's virgin tightness clenching around her finger, and inserts another. By this time, Tamao is thrashing helplessly, wildly, bucking against Miyuki's mouth and hand and moaning Miyuki's name. Her body clenches one last time, then releases itself in a long, spasmodic shudder. When she comes to, seconds or eons later, she can't tell which, she hears Miyuki's throaty chuckle in her ear.

"Punishment for insubordinate behavior, Tamao-chan. And it seems I'm not just good with snowballs."

Tamao pushes the older woman onto her back, gray eyes glinting with mischief.

"You forget, Miyuki-senpai, how good a pupil I am."

They hardly sleep at all that night.


Miyuki awakens to the sensation of lips and tongue slowly working their way down her belly. As she stirs, Tamao stops her ministrations long enough to greet her a mischievous good morning.

"Miyuki-chan. I'm just about to have breakfast in bed." Miyuki closes her eyes and moans as Tamao's tongue and fingers disappear between her legs. It is going to be a gloriously long Saturday morning.

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