The Best Day Ever

”Stars shining bright above you…”

It was late, late, late in the penthouse suite at the Four Seasons Marunouchi. 10:30? Something like that. Truth told, Mariah hadn’t checked her watch for the past hour. She didn’t have time to, really. The past two hours of her life had been overly eventful, to put it the most PC way imaginable.

”Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’...”

First, there was the match, with Bubbles - her wife, her love, her conqueror - taking on a newcomer to the Friction scene, Faheema Salih. It had all seemed so simple to start out with, just a regular exhibition match, a good way to build up credit in the league. But then words were exchanged, Mariah wound up raising the stakes, and what was supposed to be a regular hentai match ended up as an all out war, a mad tribute to sex and violence, with Bubbles and Faheema both putting their freedom on the line. The match that resulted was one of the most physical, barbaric, carnal displays to ever grace a Friction show, and it had done all that Mariah hoped it would for her client’s career. Now, more than ever, management wanted Bubbles to be a permanent fixture on the program, and not just a guest wrestler passing through.

”Birds singing in the sycamore tree…”

But that was a thing for another day. Any other day. Not tonight. Bubbles had won the match, and that meant that Faheema was hers for the next 24 hours. The only problem was that, after the match, she wasn’t even awake, thanks to climatic finish putting her through a table. She and Bubbles and took care of her afterwards, brought her backstage and let the doctors give her a look, but there didn’t seem to be much they could. Faheema wasn’t seriously hurt, but she wasn’t waking up, either. She needed bedrest, they said. Luckily, Bubbles and Mariah had just the bed for her to rest in.

”Dream a little dream of me…”

It was a queen-size bed, though the woman laying on it right now wouldn’t have been mistaken for royalty anytime soon. She laid there, naked save for a large, white AFW shirt that Mariah had bought from the store. It was pretty much the only way that they were able to get Faheema around the city without alerting more attention than absolutely necessary - even in a city as weird as Tokyo could be, it wasn’t exactly normal for two women to walk around carrying an unconscious Nubian.

It had taken some doing, a close call with the police, and a little bribing with an employee downstairs, but they’d managed to get Faheema up to their hotel room, a luxurious suite that the AFW had set up for them while they were staying in Japan. It had everything that they could’ve asked for - big screen TV, plush furniture, a lush carpet, even a bearskin rug by the fireplace, and exceedingly thick, soundproof walls. It was high enough to offer an amazing view of the Tokyo skyline, one that she and Bubbles had enjoyed every night since they came here. One they hoped Faheema would love, too.

They’d find out soon, too, since it was only a matter of time until the wild woman woke up. It was just a matter of waiting now, and Mariah sat on the bed, singing to herself and occasionally glancing at their ‘guest’, waiting for any signs of her return to the waking world. She’d long since stripped down, wearing nothing but her lacy blue lingerie, clinging tight to her pale skin.

Bubbles was in the bathroom at the moment, freshening up in preparation for their playtime, and she’d warned Mariah not to get too close to Faheema - the two of them hadn’t exactly hit it off during the match, with Faheema threatening her on several occasions and clearly trying to hurt her on one. It was probably not the best idea to be in this dangerous woman’s personal space when she woke up, but...well, Mariah couldn’t help but take a closer look.

”Say ‘nighty night’ and kiss me…” Mariah continued to softly sing to herself as she crawled across the bed towards the sleeping beauty - and she was a beauty, just as Bubbles had said. It wasn’t easy for her to see when she was so mad at the woman, but now that things had calmed, she could much better appreciate it.

The t-shirt covered her upper body, but there was still plenty to see below - long, powerful legs, brimming with muscle. She placed a hand on Faheema’s thigh, gave it a tender squeeze, and ran her fingers over the contours. Just enjoying the feel. In that moment, everything seemed so serene. The room was quiet, save for the sound of Bubbles washing in the bathroom and the steady tap-tap-tap of raindrops on the terrace window, as a light drizzle settled in. Somewhere in the distance, in another world, car horns pierced the night air.  A soothing quiet.

The calm before the storm.

Being touched caused Faheema to stir. She had been out for a long time, long enough for her body to recuperate, and the outside stimulus proved to be all the help she needed in waking up. The first sensation that greeted her was pain, the omnipresent background noise of her life. Aches assailed her from head to toe, and her back was throbbing. To Faheema's great and pleasant surprise, however, she didn't feel much worse than she always did, a real treat considering the endurance contest she had just been through.

Everything else was unfamiliar to her, though, and that worried her. Her eyes opened, becoming aware of the warm colors of her new environment. It smelled nice, clean with just a hint of another person's scent, a pleasant scent that she recognized. As her vision focused, however, she quickly realized that she was being watched, fixated on by a pair of big, bright, and hungry eyes belonging to a somewhat familiar woman hunching over her.

It was startling, to say the least. The shock awakened Faheema's muscles all too quickly, and her facial expression tightened into one of anxiety. Yelping loudly, the Nubian firebrand tensed up and rolled away from her observer before darting off of the bed with the enthusiasm of a soldier leaping away from a live grenade. She wouldn't stay out of sight long, however, as Faheema stuck her upper body back up to glare at the woman sitting on the bed.

Waking up in strange surroundings after being knocked out in a fight was one of few life experiences that Faheema genuinely feared. It didn't matter how tough she usually was; she was trembling right now, terrified that someone may have tried to hurt or abuse her while she was helpless. Trouble was soon averted, however, when her memories kicked in.

“Uhh...oh, I-I remember you...uh, river parasite?” Faheema mumbled, calming a little as she stared at the woman with the platinum hair. She couldn't remember her real name, so she repeated an insult that she had used to refer to the woman earlier. “B-but what...where's the other one, the...Bubbles, from the arena? And where...where...where am I?!” she gasped, taking in the dwelling they were gathered in for the first time. The room was large and luxurious, and it felt calming and safe just to reside in it. Had Bubbles killed her and sent her to heaven? Because this opulent den was like nothing that the Nubian could ever imagine, much less hope to live in!

Waiting on answers to her questions, Faheema stared down at herself, inspecting her body. She was a little worried that the two women had...done things to her while she was asleep, worried enough that she inspected her crotch for signs of misconduct. Rubbing her own folds a bit, she didn't find any stretching or secretions, other than a little dried fluid from earlier. Good. It seemed that the women had done nothing but slip her into a brand new shirt, but her heart wouldn't stop racing, like she was still forgetting something...

It was surreal watching Faheema sleep, just seeing her lay there. Still. Serene. Calm. Not wreaking unimaginable levels of  sensuous destruction on her. Mariah had watched so many women fight in her lifetime, witnessed more styles than she could count if she had all day to do it, but she'd never witnessed anyone with the level of savagery that this woman brought. She and Bubbles had talked about it on the way over, trying to come up with some guesses, and the best they'd managed to figure out was where her name came from - it was Arabic. Which, combined with her ragged garb and accent posed a few questions. Chief among them being how a woman like this ended up in Toyko, of all places, wrestling for one of the biggest promotions in the world.

An interesting question. One of many  that was about to be answered, because the sleeping beauty wasn't sleeping anymore.

”Well, hello there.” She prepared to give Faheema her best Sunday smile, something pleasant to see when she opened her eyes. ”Welcome back to-”

In hindsight, Mariah being the first thing that Faheema, the woman who’d threatened to do her bodily harm pretty much just for being near her, was a bad idea. She realized this about a 1/10 of a second before the Nubian sprung to life like a tightened coil, bouncing off the bed and giving it a major shake. It was enough to make Mariah, who’d been sitting on the edge, fall off onto the shag carpet with an undignified squawk. Not one of her better moments.

She rolled to her knees and popped up, just in time to see Faheema doing the same, and the two of them stared at each other like soldiers popping up from the trenches. It was awkward. When Faheema spoke, it didn’t become any less so.

Mariah threw her hair back, making sure Faheema could see the full irritation on her face. ”Again with the river parasite thing. What does that even mean? What even is that?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and huffed. ”Mariah. It’s Mariah. You’re at the Four Seasons, and Bubbles is-”

”Babe?” Bubbles called out from the bathroom. From the muffled sound of her voice, she was talking with a toothbrush in her mouth. ”You okay out there? Is Faheema up?”

”Yeah, she’s up. Just having a little girl-chat.” Mariah kept her eyes locked on the woman across from, only occasionally wavering to look at her hair. Nice color, but she felt the desperate need to introduce it to a hairbrush and some shampoo. She was also curious why Faheema was checking her body out, like she was expecting to find something that wasn’t there.  

”Good, good, almost done.” She called back with a sing-song tone, and Mariah could hear the sink going full blast. ”Faheema? Don’t maim my wife, please. Be out in a minute, just relax.”

Running water. Faheema heard the sound of running water. The noise sparked a signal from her brain, a realization that she hadn't tasted water in several hours. Her mouth was so dry it stung, and she still felt lightheaded, delirious. No wonder her memory was failing; her faculties weren't all there.

“Now that's a sound I like to hear,” Faheema stammered, rising onto two legs that felt much less strong than they actually were. It was a short, clumsy dash from the bed to the bathroom, and Faheema's eyes didn't even grace the rest of the suite on her way. Luxury could wait until necessities had been met, and clean, running water was a feature of Western life that Faheema truly appreciated.

“Out of the way!” Faheema bowled past her hostess as she slammed into the bathroom counter, grabbing a nearby cup and filling it to the rim. With the urgency of a creature at a desert oasis, Faheema downed the liquid in a matter of seconds. Two refills later, each consumed more calmly than the last, the Nubian finally breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, turned toward Bubbles, and smiled in a warm expression of gratitude.

“I feel much better now. I'm sorry, Bubbles. It's nice to see you again,” she said, taking a moment to tip her head down, a sort of informal bow to show appreciation. Mariah's greeting would be much less excited, but no less polite. Walking slowly with her new shirt billowing from the movement, Faheema sat down on the bed, opposite where Mariah had landed.

“Sorry Mariah, I didn't mean to insult you,” not this time, anyway, “but I forgot your name. The Four Seasons...where is that, exactly, and where...where is my tank top?!” Faheema asked. She had just remembered what she was missing. This new shirt that the couple had given her was nice and soft, but no matter how many holes it bore, the tank top Faheema had worn to her debut match was special to her.

As a show of good faith, Faheema kept her temper in check and her disposition warm. Deep down, Faheema already suspected that Bubbles and Mariah hadn't thought to retain the garb for her, but the two of them deserved an opportunity to prove her wrong. It would be...regrettable if they couldn't.

Bubbles, for the moment, had a simple plan. While she was eager to do all sorts of mischief with and to Faheema, she preferred to do it while she was relatively clean. To be frank, she  smelled bad. All the sweat and sex had mixed on her skin to create an unsavory mix, one that would hamper their activities tonight if it lingered. So, some washing was in order.

She’d been in the process of getting that started when she heard the commotion outside of the bathroom, as Faheema woke and had her inevitable clash with Mariah. That made her more than a bit anxious to come out - as much she loved Mariah, Bubbles knew her wife had a talent for pressing buttons when she wanted to, and Faheema had some decidedly lethal buttons to push._

Yes,, it would be a good idea for her to get out there. She was just about to do so, too, right after she finished brushing her teeth. It seemed like Faheema had other ideas - ones that had her bursting through the door and scaring the hell out of her.

”Whoa, whoa!” Bubbles, naked save for a white bathrobe that was a size too small, hopped out of the way as Faheema went straight for the fountain and drank from it like she'd just been walking through the Sahara. Mariah was up and standing in the doorway a moment later, and the two of them watched as their new friend/prisoner had her fill. Awkward glances were occasionally shared as well. ”We…” Bubbles raised a hesitant hand as Faheema downed another cup. ”We have bottled water in the fridge…”

After she had her final cup, Faheema seemed to calm down, though there was still some noticeable tension in the air, and it didn't seem like it was just coming from the obvious places. Mariah moved out of the way as  she stepped out and sat on the bed, then stood side-by-side with Bubbles when she came out. The two of them, looking on with concern, albeit for different reasons.

There was second of silence after Faheema apologizes, a single moment that felt like ten. Bubbles gave her wife a quick elbow on the shoulder and short ‘say something’ glare, hoping to break the mounting tension. ”It's...fine.” Mariah finally spoke up to answer Faheema, bringing back as much of her smile as she could manage. ”You're in our hotel room, the AFW set us up with it while we’re in Tokyo. And your tank top is…”

She looked back up at Bubbles as Bubbles looked back down at her. Shrugs and confused stares were shared, before Bubbles looked back Faheema’s way with a sullen frown. She'd thought there had been something to the way  Nubian acted after she used her top like a clothe. She hadn't made much note of it since then, figuring it was just her imagination, but now doubts were forming.

”It’s probably gone, babe.” Bubbles took a rare hesitant step forward. ”Chances are they tossed it. It was kind of torn up, you know?”

Mariah thought that was a nice way to say it was a dirty, cum-soaked rag, but she kept that to herself.

Oh, dear. Her tank top was gone. Bubbles and Mariah hadn't bothered to retrieve it.

Faheema sat in silence, her smile slowly fading. Eyes darted rapidly between Bubbles and Mariah as a frown overtook her expression. Anger consumed her thoughts, and for more than a brief moment, she entertained the possibility of a violent reprisal, or at least a good tongue lashing. To her two captors, it probably seemed inevitable.

Fortunately for them, nothing ever came of those furious fantasies. Inhaling a deep breath, Faheema sighed, in and out, before falling backwards to lie flat on the bed, legs hanging over the side. She was still mad, but the urge to cause harm was receding, her face slowly relaxing until the fire faded entirely from her eyes.

It would have been easy to give in to her violent urges, but the bitter truth was that Bubbles and Mariah had been kind and patient with Faheema, despite her temper. The lost tank top had been special to Faheema, but neither of the women standing before her could have known that. Faheema's personal demons were her own burden, and she didn't want to hold others responsible for them. She had come to Japan in the hopes of starting a new life for herself, and even though she was deceptively young compared to Bubbles and Mariah, she was still an adult. It was time she learned to let go.

“Don't worry about it. My fault, really,” Faheema said as she laid her feelings out for the couple. “I shouldn't have worn it to our match, but I was nervous going into the arena for the first time. That tank top was the last reminder of home that I had with me, and wearing it helps...helped me stay calm,” Faheema said. She wasn't fishing for pity or trying to guilt either woman, but her words were the truth, and both women deserved some honesty.

Now that her little explanation was off of her chest, Faheema felt better. She could mourn her lost shirt another time. Today was a day to lose herself in depravity with two of the most beautiful women she had ever known. It was all thanks to Mariah's last minute rules change, of course, and from now on, Faheema would strive to treat her with a little more respect.

Smiling once more, Faheema sat back up from the bed and looked at Mariah. “So, I could not help noticing that your room has its very own shower. May I use it to clean myself? If I am to surrender my body to you, it must be unsoiled.”

When Faheema’s smile frown came in, slowing taking over her face like a ghastly pall, a chill came over Bubbles. She didn’t know why she cared so much about the top, but she clearly did care, and if there was one thing she hated to see, it was a sad, beautiful woman. Faheema was a raw treasure, inside and out. Rare and precious.  Such a woman deserved to be happy. Such a woman shouldn’t have had reasons for her eyes to be filled with so much sorrow.

Mariah, on the other hand, took a more pragmatic step back, ever-so-slightly shifting behind her large, powerful She-Hulk of a wife. If Faheema was about to blow and restart the match in their hotel room, she wanted to be as close as possible to the bathroom’s lockable door.

Fortunately both them and the hotel’s furniture, that wasn’t what happened. She explained, she got it off her chest, and some of the fog lifted between them. Bubbles’ smile return only a moment after Faheema’s did the same, glad that this woman was so comfortable speaking freely between. While she was curious and wanted to know more, she had the tact to save those questions for another time. There’d be time for it. Quiet moments between the three of them. She could wait.

”Oh!” Mariah popped back from behind Bubbles, more than a little surprised she was being addressed over her more affable partner. ”Well, yeah, you can. Sure.” She stepped to the side and cleared the way to the bathroom. ”Didn’t want to say anything, but you do smell a bit ripe.”

Bubbles scoffed, reached over and gave Mariah a playful slap on the shoulder, before turning to Faheema with a softer look. ”We both do. Was thinking about taking a shower myself, honestly.”

She extended her hand and looked Faheema over, her half-lidded eyes hiding the same lust she’d brought to their match. ”How about we kill two birds with one stone? Hm?”

Happy to see that she had alleviated the tension that she herself had caused, Faheema hopped up and took Bubbles by the hand. If fortune favored her, she would manage to keep the mood light at least long enough for the three women to enjoy each other's bodies for awhile. Walking toward the bathroom door, she stopped to tease Mariah a little, her luscious lips curling into a sultry grin.

“You have strong opinions about my scent do you? I've never had a lover who would hold my grooming to any real standard, let alone two,” she said, getting a bit close, close enough to let Mariah smell her armpits and get a real look at how unkempt her hair was. “Here's hoping I don't disappoint.”

She probably was going to disappoint, but Faheema would submit herself to any demands that the two ladies had for her. From the bottom of her heart, she wanted both women to be satisfied with her looks and her smell. Stepping into the shower with Bubbles, Faheema removed her big, white shirt and placed it nearby while Bubbles was left to fiddle with the shower knobs to get the water going.

It was tough enough baring herself while Bubbles was so close, able to look at her without the distraction of the fight to stop her from taking in the detail. Most of Faheema's skin was smooth to the touch, and her muscles and curves spoke for themselves. Too bad the scars were so much easier to notice. They were her legacy, telling the story of a life defined by war, like a book that had been carved into her skin. None were pretty, and the memories attached to them were all unpleasant, especially the long, thin lines that had been etched into her back.

Keeping her back to the shower wall, Faheema gazed longingly at Bubbles, appreciating her much more unmitigated beauty. Scattered nearby were several bottles of varying shape, size, and color. Presumably one of them contained the soap, but which one? The appearances of the many containers didn't provide any clue, and she couldn't read the instruction labels either.

“Now then, which of these do we use to clean ourselves?” Faheema asked, narrowing her eyes at the bottles as if she were inspecting a lineup of police suspects.

Bubbles took Faheema’s hand and immediately noticed it coarseness, how rough and ragged the palm felt against her own. She could help but wonder all the things this hand had done, what it had been through, what it grasped and torn and punched and scratched at before their paths crossed.  Small wonder her slaps had been so painful, with her skin tougher than leather.

She was eager to start trying, though she had to be pause when Faheema took a moment to get Mariah's dander up - not that Bubbles minded, so long as it didn't get physical. Her wife recoiled back as the Nubian leaned in, taking care not to breath too much until she was out of the danger zone. ”We’ll...see?” She scratched her nose as Bubbles lead Mariah, following right behind. ”I'm just a big fan of hygiene, that's all.”

The shower stall was, unfortunately, too small for all three of them. It could’ve squeezed in three regular woman, but Faheema and Bubbles were too far from the norm. A shame, but her wife would at least get too watch, and watch she did as she took a seat on the sink counter, obviously expecting a show. She would get it.

”Okay now, just twist this, here, and…” Bubbles tweaked the fancy, gilded knobs and the water came out in short order, cascading over her body and Faheema’s behind her, hitting them with a quick blast of icy chill before the warmth took over. Bubbles sighed as the droplets pelted her skin, soothing muscles that had been brought to the brink only an hour so ago.

That was when she turned to Faheema and saw the scars - really saw them. While it wasn’t the first time she’d seen this woman in the nude, it was the first time she’d been able to do so in a calm environment, when she wasn’t engaged in brutal combat, or trying hard to whisk a naked woman away with causing a commotion. Now, though, as the water brought made that dark skin shine and glimmer, every scar became plain, every imperfection was clear.  

The look on Bubbles face wasn’t one of revulsion, though, but awe. So many stories on this woman, so many tales to tell. She was a puzzle to unravel, and she needed to know her. Really know her. She didn’t answer Faheema’s question at first, and instead reached out, running a hand down the middle of her former opponent’s chest, tracing her finger along what looked like an older scar. She sighed, as a part of her wished she could go back in time and stop it from being made, protect Faheema from whoever or whatever did all this to her...but then, they wouldn’t be here, now would they? Fate was fate.

She shook it off and returned to reality. There was a hot woman in front of her, ready and waiting and willing to do anything. Philosophy could wait.

”Close your eyes.” Bubbles gave her first overt command of the evening, before she grabbed a bar of soap in one hand and a cloth in the other, lathered them up, and pressed them to Faheema’s chest. She cleaned in earnest, sliding along the war torn battlefield of the Nubian’s skin, going up, over, and around, working lower and lower - but all with a gentle, loving caress.

”So, tell me.” She leaned in and planted a kiss on the side of Faheema’s neck, savoring the taste of sweat on her skin while it was still there to be enjoyed. ”Where are you from, exactly?”

“You should know something about me, Mariah,” Faheema called from inside the shower as water started drizzling down on her. “When I arrived in Japan a month ago, that was the first time in my life that I had regular access to bathing facilities, and this is the first shower I've ever been in that wasn't public,” just to give Mrs. Hygiene an idea of what she was up against.

Inside the shower, Bubbles had started inspecting her more closely, but she didn't seem too put off by what she saw. Disturbed, maybe, but the caress of her hand seemed reassuring, an intimate act of kindness. Her finger traced the contours of a knife wound that had gotten infected. With proper medical treatment, most of Faheema's trophies could have been prevented, but poor care was a part of life where Faheema had come from. Now more than ever, she was feeling glad that the knife had swept her body just above the breasts. A little lower, and the scar would've been a lot harder to ignore.

“As you command,” Faheema drawled as her eyelids slid closed. What followed was undoubtedly worth obeying the simple order, as a warm, slick cloth and a bar of soap started massaging their way down her muscular body, soothing skin that had never been cared for so gracefully. Humming with delight, Faheema draped her arms over Bubbles' shoulders in a loose hug, with a giddy smile visible beneath her sopping canopy of hair.

“When you are done, you must let me return the favor,” the Nubian sighed as Bubbles continued to transfix her. With her eyes closed, she didn't see Bubbles leaning in for a kiss until she spoke, the sultry whisper registering so close to Faheema's ears.

An enthusiastic moan echoed out of her mouth when Bubbles planted a kiss on the tender muscle of her neck. Feeling the need to reciprocate, she lowered her arms, slipping them underneath Bubbles' own to capture her around the waist in a hug that pulled her close. Her chest was clean now, so Bubbles was in a good position to reach around to get her sides and back as Faheema cuddled her and pressed their chests together.

“I was born in Sudan, and lived there until about a year ago,” Faheema responded, tilting her head up to let the water hit it from a different angle. “My village was situated near the Blue Nile, a river in the eastern part of the country. The Nuba Mountains, nearby, are the origin of my people's name,” the Nubian Exile remarked.