14 comments/ 64737 views/ 27 favorites She Moves Me By: Esperanza_Hidalgo Author notes You can skip to the story. This is all vanity stuff. This twisted tale is a Harlequin Romance on steroids, or perhaps, on aphrodisiacs. The next submission of this novella completes the story, but this portion stands on its own. If time is friendly, part two will find Literotica within two weeks. It's finished and needs the edits of grammar friends. Thanks to the efforts of beta buddies, a queer young woman's small fingers found yellow crinkled paper and then a computer. SexyLatina19 helped her think things through, and the two fell in love. She feels Noira is officially the Venus of beta readers, and pretty coolio to boot. I have it on good authority, the strange author is ready to run nekky on the freeway for both of them this evening. She hopes they chase her. A couple of people helped her with grammar. She did much of the grammar herself because she's trying to learn. She hates to mention the folks who helped her due to all of the remaining errors. They're her fault (she's hard headed). Queer young woman found exciting words to scribble on yellow crinkled paper thanks to all of you. Uhm, something tells me she is extremely grateful. I simply know these things. Plot builds before sex, but the sex is ribald, tawdry, and hot. This young woman works hard and does not hold orgasmic lesbian frenzy from the inevitable, so she insists you enjoy. The queer young woman told me so. ******* She Moves Me "A lesbian?" she asked with no embarrassment. "Well, yeah," I said. "Miss Myers." "Miss Myers?" "Yeah, third grade teacher. She had beautiful ankles." "What?" "Beautiful ankles! She was kind of a Jewish hippie. Wore these sandals, had the cutest ankles." "I never thought of ankles as beautiful." "Shoulda seen hers." I laughed and then said, "I'll take your word for it." As lights flickered on and off a few times. The dance floor cleared and people gathered in small clusters, lit cigarettes, and chatted. A few couples paired off and sought refuge in darkened niches. With building excitement, I watched a local DJ for a rock station named Classy Christie, CeeCee for short, walk up to the stage with a mike. A bouncy strip song played as a few drunken girls whistled. One lesbian couple, oblivious to the hazy smoke, erotic music and wistful stares, practically fucked in one corner. Those two had theirs. Would I let Sochie get hers? I wanted to give in. "We have a babe from Dallas visiting tonight by the name of Misty Morning," CeeCee said in her raspy voice. "She's a star of lesbian porn and erotic dancer of fame. Videos on sale in the foyer," she paused. "Misty would love to sign any tits she can, course she may want a little something-something in return." The crowd laughed. "Give a round of applause for our ssssinnnntilating guest this evening, Misty Morning." With loud approval, all heads turned toward the corner of the stage as Misty made her entrance. She defined sex on two legs, causing the word fuck-buddy to enter my mind. Standing over six feet tall with a fiery dirty red mane, beautiful white skin, and red stilettos, her presence forced all the patrons in the club to shout and applaud. Even the near-fucking lesbian couple took a break to see the ruckus. Clearly pierced nipples showed under her thin red negligee. She embodied temptation, desire, and Sapphic sex. An amazing clit protruded from her pussy. The size of her precious bulb shifted a club full of lesbian libidos to a new gear. Misty started the show by displaying some of her famous moves. She twirled into a handstand and spread her legs in the air. Amid raucous catcalls, Misty tumbled into a full frontal split, giving horny girls a front-and-center view of the front-and-center clit. Sochie and I sat quietly as her shoulder lightly grazed mine. Unconsciously, I moved in closer to the touch of her electric skin, drawn to her warmth like an infant seeking her mother's milk. CeeCee came back to the stage and asked, "Okay girls, and guys wanting to be girls, any volunteers for today's lap dance—no tip needed?" The crowd enjoyed CeeCee's silliness, and many volunteers raised their hands. A group of loud college girls teased a young women in schoolgirl regalia and combat boots to volunteer. A shaved head, black collar, thick black eyeliner, and thicker black lipstick gave her an exotic Goth look. She shook her head in flat refusal, causing her not-so-friendly buddies to goad her. Miss Goth didn't raise her hand until an older girl sitting across the table nodded and pointed. Hesitantly, her hand found its shapely way into the thick air. CeeCee immediately picked her as soon as the girl's hand went up. The girl didn't expect it, and it took some jeering from the crowd to get her onstage. Obviously tipsy, she stumbled one time as she stepped up to the stage. Misty bent quickly and provided a hand to keep her from falling. The two connected with a glance. Seems small glances created opportunities for porn stars to deflower Goth girls on this ribald evening. Of medium build and strangely attractive, her bra-less tits appeared to want freedom from her top. Her curves held just enough baby fat to make her cuddly and cute. I wondered, "Could a Goth chick be cuddly and cute?" A pulsing slow song played over the speakers. Sex maven Misty led her victim—or more perhaps, her willing accomplice—to a small chair as multicolored lights focused on the stage. CeeCee moved to the side to enjoy the show with the rest of us. Misty gyrated her hips slowly as she faced the audience, bending at the knees in the classic 'come fuck me' pose. Her mesmerizing moves produced sweat on my forehead that dripped into my eyes and burned. The wonders of sight, sound, and smell combined into a conflicting witchery of the erotic. I trembled, holding my legs with my hands to hide my arousal from Sochie. She knew. Sochie always knew. The Goth girl stared at Misty's ass; soon she relaxed in the chair and spread her legs, waiting for some personal attention. Misty didn't disappoint her. Sochie's hand rested on the table within inches of mine. Her pinky stretched out toward my pinky. Without thinking, I moved my hand closer to hers and then moved it farther away. No! My body fought my mind like a commercial advertisement, just do it. I downed the rest of Tammy's Vodka Tonic. On the stage, Misty turned around, spreading the young woman's knees. She shook her red hair over the girl's face and breasts. Almost unconsciously, the girl's hand drifted toward her own crotch. My pinky made a decision, the decision part of my brain didn't want, but another part of me did. As much as I wanted to run from the table and go hide in the restroom, I couldn't. Loving Sochie unlocked the closet door. Feeling nervous yet brave, my hand moved eagerly to enjoy Sochie in whatever tricky way it could. I placed my hand on her thigh. She placed her hand on mine. I peered back to the stage. Misty straddled one of the young woman's legs and pushed her breasts within inches of the girl's lips. The girl tried to reach and kiss Misty's tits, but the stripper pushed her away, smiling seductively and shaking her ass at the audience. Betwixt and between these amazing proceedings, the aforementioned lesbian couple thoughtfully repositioned on a table to provide all of the audience a better view. The taller of the two girls packed a nice black dildo and thrust it in the shorter girl's mouth. Helping their pace along pleasantly, the girl getting the mouth fuck fondled the taller girl's panty-covered ass. The two went at each other like crazed teens, and once again, seemed oblivious to all the screaming lesbians in the club. On stage, Misty sat down on the girl's lap and pushed her torso downward. To the delight of the crowd, the young woman's hand went between her legs. She started masturbating underneath her white panties. The eroticism struck me wildly; automatically, Sochie's hand drifted closer to my Eden. My hand drifted closer to hers. Misty stood, providing the audience with a view of the young woman as she toyed with her pussy underneath her panties. I focused on the panties, licking my lips as a moist spot grew more noticeable. The exotic dancer bent low and slid her lips and tongue over the girl's cheek from one side of her face to the other. The young woman moaned while increasing her pace against her pussy. Stretching her muscular legs taut, she breathed with flushed anticipation of orgasm's friendship. Sochie inched her hand ever closer to my middle. Spreading my legs, I waited for the thrill of her touch. Anticipation produced need, and need grew to compulsive bawdy lust. Swallowing some courage from my dry mouth, I placed my hand directly on top of her pussy. She looked at me and smiled. Sochie had me, and she knew it. Meanwhile, back at the sideshow, the lesbian couple starred in their own production. Completely nude except for her bra and green Converse tennis shoes, Mouth Fuck bent over at the waist resting with her upper torso across the table. Dildo Packer took advantage of poor Mouth Fuck's predicament by pounding her hips toward the girl's backside. However, what caused my bum to tingle involved the position of the dildo. Dildo Packer packed Mouth Fuck's bottom. I thought Mouth Fuck required a new moniker. My horny mind immediately considered Ass Fuck appropriate. Despite the pain involved, my ass craved a fuck by Sochie wearing a thick cock. Although I couldn't hear them clearly through the noise, Ass Fuck screamed something like, "Fuck my ass bitch. Fuck it good. Fuck me bitch. Fuck me!" Dildo Packer responded by fucking her with a stronger force and slapping on her crimson cheeks. As beads of sweat dripped from foreheads and tits, the two women glistened like supernatural sex goddesses. Spittle spewed from Ass Fuck's mouth as tiny beads of water danced into the air surrounding both of their bodies. The sight of the two dripping women enjoying each other with such freedom drove me to voyeuristic insanity, and my desire blossomed into a wicked need for the insane. Misty moved to the young woman's side. The stripper pushed the top straps of her little red negligee over her shoulders and let it slip down to expose her breasts. The dancer knelt next to the Goth girl, ran her fingers slowly over the young woman's belly and placed her hand on top of where the girl masturbated. Soon, the girl writhed in a complex dish of delight and fancy. Misty bent forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek while helping stroke the fancy. I pressed my fingers on Sochie's womanhood and proceeded to massage her. She put her fingers under my panties and fondled with passion. Waiting for a touch from a woman for so long, my body released madness. Slick dew readied my bald pussy for penetration. The prickly hairs on my neck and the nipples on my breast saluted to the General by the name of sex. Sochie's heart raced loud enough for me to feel it, winning a noisy battle of orgasmic frenzy and kicking the General's ass. Sochie's labored breathing married my stunted attempt to draw in air. The Latina of my dreams closed in on Venus Rising as I continued to fuck her with my hand. Being so close to her, touching her pussy, seeing the sex occurring on stage, and hearing the two girls getting it on in a corner of the club meant sexual bliss waited for me within minutes. Importantly, this attraction, this arousal, this love for Sochie met with my acceptance, acceptance of the queer, acceptance of the different, and acceptance into the sisterhood of loving women. Perhaps the world held a place for me—perhaps Sochie's arms held the world. Sochie noticed my change, my happiness, my smile, and entered her finger in my peach forcing a deep sigh to part my lips. Her needy face looked hungry, flushing with arousal. She turned and looked at me with loving eyes, whispering the simple words, "Feels great . . . and finally. . . wanted you for a long time." Slowly, she stroked with tenderness, quickly, the tenderness creshendoed into the aggressive. Slowly, I matched her stroking with my pleasing of her pussy. Quickly, the pleasing boomed into the dynamic. Her touches increased my arousal to near climatic levels, causing waves to ripple through my sweet middle. I relaxed, allowing the feeling to overwhelm and engulf every atom in my being. Hearing a scream, I looked over at our friendly lesbian couple. Taking notice of the stares coming their way, the two managed to reposition to a not-so-darkened niche. Now Dildo Packer appeared hungry, because her face rested in between Ass Fuck's legs. Much to my disappointment, I couldn't get a good view of the action; however, the way Ass Fuck screamed told the patrons of the club what busied the other girl's tongue. "Eat me bitch. Eat me good. Eat me. Eat my cunt!" she moaned with intensity. My mind drifted from the silly thought of Ass Fuck's needed new name, leaping to the fantastic and wonderful. I knew I'd fuck Sochie. I knew I'd fuck her tonight! Fuck her in front of everybody. Fuck her on the dance floor. Fuck her in a darkened niche. Fuck her on the stage. I didn't care. Fuck everything! I must fuck! The dancer stood amid some loud cheering. I turned back to her as a wave of pleasure went through my body and dizzied a cloudy brain. Misty let her negligee fall to the ground, straddling over the young woman and shaking her shapely bum in our direction. Looking at her ass, I dreamed of being her victim with Sochie between my legs. The Goth girl's hand stroked relentlessly under her panties. Misty brought her nipples to the young woman and let her kiss them as the patrons of the club whistled and catcalled. Watching Goth girl go at Misty's teats produced a strange sucking noise from my mouth as I envisioned sucking Sochie's brown nipples. The couple in the corner weren't helping matters any. The Artist Formerly Known as Mouth Fuck wrapped her legs tightly around Dildo Packer's head. The two wrestled on the floor in a battle with two winners. Miss Packer went at Miss Fuck with such energy I felt her tongue in my pussy. My mind felt titty in my mouth and woman supping my pussy in a dream of imaginative sex. The strange music from the vocal cords of Mouth Fuck only sharpened my fantasy. The type of music only meant one thing, and the fantasy led to eventual reality. Sochie's finger's stroked my yoni with energy, causing goose pimples to form on my breasts and juice to slicken my chair. My awaiting orgasm controlled me as I stroked on her pussy. From the grin of approval on Sochie's face, she felt as much pleasure as me. I lost all control. Misty moved behind the young woman with a sultry prance, providing an exquisite view of the girl's panty covered hand as she twitched and played with her bulb. The girl masturbated furiously, and Misty bent and offered her nipples to the girl's mouth. Misty teased, pulling away as the young woman closed in, and then relented by rubbing her breasts against the girl's face. Miss Goth went at Misty's titties with enthusiasm. Sochie went at my pussy much the same. Sochie moved her lips to my cheek, kissing lightly as her warm breath teased my ear. Screaming to my right in the darkened niche, moaning in front of me on the stage. Sochie's stroking of my cleft—nothing compared, nothing. All of it! All the action taking place in the club; the lap dance on the stage; the two girl's having sex in the corner; the Goth girl masturbating; the smoke, the perfume, the cheering, Misty's clit, my pinky, my brain, my pussy; but most of all, this incredible feeling poets try to explain called love, this young woman I loved at my side, all of it—the totality of the moment—erupted in a ruinously peaceful fire in my soul! As the song closed and the young woman began to orgasm, Misty knelt on her knees at the girl's side. She licked the girl's face and lips, and then explored the young woman's mouth with her tongue. With quivering legs, the girl climaxed in a feverish rush. As she climaxed, Misty ran her nails lightly over the young woman's breasts while biting her ear. With a joyful grin, Sochie stroked my pussy while I tried to focus on the stage. My entire body tingled as my orgasm took center stage. I forgot about Sochie's needs and closed my eyes, tilting my head back as orgasm consumed me. Sochie moved in close to my cheek and whispered, "Beg for it baby. C'mon beg, beg me to fuck your cunt." I shuddered and climaxed as small convulsions peaked into large eruptions, causing my mind to envelop rapture. My breasts tingled with electricity greater than Edison ever found. "Fuck me Sochie," I begged. "Fuck me hard! Please do it, please I need it. Fuck me please. Fuck me please. Fuck me please! Fuckme fuckme fuckme fuckme please!" Every neuron in my brain produced brilliant splendor as Tesla joined Edison in a mind visiting ecstasy, electric ecstasy, orgasmic ecstasy, shocking ecstasy! One orgasm, another, another, another . . . "Tell me again baby, I don't believe you. Tell me again or I'm gonna stop. You didn't tell me to fuck your cunt." Sochie moaned in my ear, pushing her cheek against my face as her steamy breath warmed my fevered cheeks. She stroked, stroked, and stroked with blind, blind, blinding speed. Hairs stood on my body in orgasmic craze as I breathed tepid air into burning lungs. My orgasm quaked and trembled, quaked, quaked, quaked, trembled, trembled, trembled, in a mighty spew, spew, spew . . . "Fuck my cunt!" my mouth screamed but no words came out as I forgot how to speak. The eruption lashed flames through my body, reddening a red face, peaking peaked nipples, wheezing wheezed breath. Stars flashed before my eyes as I almost lost consciousness finishing with a final silent, "Fuck!" Long pause. I moved my hand from Sochie's pussy to the table as exhaustion took a momentary mortgage on my body. She took my hand in hers and trembled, kissing my neck, cheek and ear. I felt her bring my hand to her lips and give a sensuous kiss, as an orgasm found her body from kissing my hand alone. "Ah!" she screamed in a short staggered breath. "Ahhh!" she screamed in a long staggered explosion as orgasm became her paramour. Her trembling matched mine, and it made me so happy to see her aroused in such a state of bliss that my own Pompeii visited me in a small eruption of its own with one stunning pulse. The greatest thrill leapt through me in the precious zeal of the moment as I realized her orgasms were more important than mine. It made me feel like a woman knowing her affection for me stimulated such a strong response from her body. She licked some sweat off my cheek and then said, "That's only the beginning. I need more." I managed a small nod while hearing more sounds of sex, I forced my eyes to open as the young woman on the stage finished her climax by nearly falling off the chair and screaming "Gawd Misty, Love Me!" Short pause. A few seconds later Miss Goth smiled in complete satisfaction, not caring about masturbating in front of a crowd of one hundred people. The satisfaction of her climax joined my smile in a similar grin. I didn't fucking care who knew. My glorious orgasm filled me with éclat and beauty only outdone by the orgasm of my new lover, yes, lover! The beauty of my Goddess known as Sochie thrilled me from the tip of my dizzy head to the bottom of my trembling toes, stopping along the way to take a nice nip at my middle. The two friendly lesbians even looked up to take in the proceedings, and they received their fair share of applause too. Then the strangest feeling came over me, because I realized Sochie and I were receiving a share of applause too. The applause of the crowd turned me on! Misty held the Goth girl by both hands and pulled, and then she kissed her glistening fingers. The two stood, walking off the stage toward Misty's dressing room. Miss Goth stopped and whispered something into Misty's ear. Misty looked in the crowd for the young woman who approved for Miss Goth to go to the stage a few minutes earlier. The stripper found her and then pointed to her dressing room. With shining black hair so dark it filled the room with a blue tint, the woman stood. Regal in manner, wearing a simple blue suit of elegance, she exemplified power and beauty as she stood. The strong woman whispered something to the other two girls with a confident deportment. The two young women held each other's hands and nodded in agreement. She left and joined Misty and Miss Goth in the dressing room. Hell decided he needed to break loose as the crowd screamed in a furor. I looked at Sochie confused. She said, "Dominatrix." I understood, several such couples frequented the club of a similar manner, but from the way Sochie said it, I felt she must know intimately of the role. After the two performers left, Sochie and I looked at each other. I tried to recover in my damp seat, blushing with embarrassment and loosening my grip on her hand. Strangely, my mind thought of an old movie called Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Chuckling to myself, in my case, the movie needed a new name, Pussy in a Hot Lesbian Basement. She Moves Me "What's so funny?" Sochie asked. I smiled, as a small dose of alacrity found my mind. I tried in vain to force my mind into a non-committal mode of serious intent. My needy brain didn't have the strength to resist Sochie. She'd won before coming to the table. The woman made me feel owned. "Well, was it at least a good one?" she asked. I nodded timidly, still trying to catch my breath. But the word 'good' in Webster's poorly described what happened between my legs. Madness described the sensation with greater accuracy, damn fucking great described it best. "You're so flushed and look so delicious, Dr. Tyson," she whispered as she touched my cheek with her nails. Dizzy and witless, I tried to nod. We sat quietly holding hands through two booming dance songs by Lady Gaga. The ever-persistent Sochie asked, "Dance?" Pausing, I gave resistance her last shot, a poor shot at best, and one I had no intention of making. My words were an intent I didn't want to keep. "I must go Sochie. This is wrong. Our relationship mustn't be." For the first time, I saw her anger— "Christ, Dr. My Woman, enough! We just almost screwed each other at a club full of horny women, so I think any charade nothing is going on between us is crazy. I'm going to take you woman. Rest assured, I'll never see you hurt by my actions. Dance?" she demanded. —and strangely, I knew Sochie would never allow any harm to come to me. She pulled on my hand. Her forceful touch and insistence pleased me. She pulled again, and, I went with her. Smiling, she said, "That's better, and bullshit if you think your leaving. You and I know better." She brought the hand I used on her pussy to her nose. "You smell ripe." I looked away, shyly grinning. "You are persistent." Sochie laughed quietly, "Mmm, maybe you haven't noticed." She paused to make sure I paid attention. "I have quite the hots for you. I get what I want, always. The two girls were beautiful; can't blame you for becoming excited. Maybe I can scratch your itch in a bit—no—I will scratch your itch, no strings, unless you want some. Then my dear Dean, we will tie some knots, very . . . tight . . . knots." Damn, fucking knots again. We stood for a few seconds, holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes. I hugged her tightly while cussing myself for giving in. "Call me Amber," I whispered in her ear. "Okay Amber," she said slurring my name. "About goddamn time we got over all the crap don't you think?" she whispered. Her hot breath tickled the small hairs in my ear as the song switched to a slow dance. "No, not this one," I protested. "Cut it out Amber. Stop. Cut the shit. This is mutual, and you know it." Stopping and looking at her, I realized she could do with me as she wished. I marveled at my stupidity, my weakness . . . she represented my potential for happiness, what my life must be. Why I continued to pretend reluctance made no sense. Ant wrestled foot—foot won. The foot ended in my mouth—mouth won. The mouth sucked my pussy—pussy won. Pussy won last fall, the first time she walked in my office. "C'mon Amber. Time to dance!" I looked back at her and said, "I've never . . . it's just, everything." "You've never what? Loved a lesbian? Admitted you're a queer? I'll make love with you anytime you want. Come with me Amber, anytime, anyplace. I'll take you to places you've never been, giving you the love and sex you crave." She paused. "Dance with me," she said while rubbing my arm. I shook my head. She nodded. "Okay, but Amber, no pretense. I want to fuck your cunt so hard with my strap-on cock you can't walk for a week. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk for a month. Amber, I'm gonna take you—fuck!—let's dance . . . it's inevitable." Still indicating no, I went with her. She owned me. "Inevitable!" I thought, quietly shouting to myself, internally jumping up and down, silently feeling such a joy in my heart, and then for some reason, I told her, "Thank you." Smiling, she looked at me. Afraid to look in her eyes, I looked away. We walked to the dance floor. She held me closely without any charade of taking it easy with me. Although I tried, I didn't fight her attentiveness. Useless, she'd already won. Lock, stock, and pussy—please tie me up, pinch my nipples, slap my ass, do as you wish! Her breasts pressed closely to mine, and my body felt her tenderness. She took her hands and placed them on my hips while moving her pelvis closely into mine. "Are you ready for me to take you?" she asked. "No," I said, but my body told a different story. "You'll be fine, relax my sweet Amber. I'll fuck you soon when I'm good and ready," she cooed. "Yes," I replied. With no resistance, I put my arms around her shoulders, resting my chin and lips closely to her warm neck. The intimacy made me feel needed, stimulating confusion and arousal—an arousal festooning into an emotional mix of pain and pleasure, with pleasure clearly winning the battle. After a few seconds, she confessed, "I'm really not as bad as what everybody thinks, Sweetmeat." Giggling at the nickname and intrigued, I asked, "Then why do you act poorly?" "Long story," she said and lightly kissed my cheek. I pulled back slightly after she kissed me. The kiss was nondescript, but it thrilled me, sending comfort through my body. "Too much?" she asked. I thought for a few seconds, finally saying, "No, just surprised, yet not surprised." Short pause. "Tell me the story of why you act so poorly?" I asked, wondering about the secrets hidden within this strong woman in my arms. "After the dance, my place?" "Christ, Sochie n-no, just take it easy with me tonight," I stammered, knowing we'd be lovers the same night. "Then we'll get a coffee?" she smirked, knowing I couldn't resist her. I breathed deeply, "As friends?" "Hell no, as lovers," she responded confidently. Damn her! She had me, and she knew it. I would act on my want, on my need of her love. She made me feel completely hopeless, and, at the same time, hopeful. "Yes, coffee sounds nice," I said and paused. "And yes . . . yes, as lovers. Just go slow." "Fuck slow," she responded. Like a methodical temptress, she knew we'd end up at her house. Sochie always knew. Her hands worked from my hips to my ass, pressing firmly once again, forcing our middles together. Her firm clasp brought a moan from my mouth and caused my nipples to crest. I pulled back, looked at her, wanted her, needed her, and then timidly kissed her on the nose. She returned my childish affection by kissing my cheeks, chin and eyelids, while moving her hands to my face and holding me tightly. Sochie looked earnestly in my eyes, "I've wanted this moment forever," she confessed. "I know you want me. I waited in your office all the time just knowing you needed me. Shit, Amber, Amber, I got in trouble just to get you. I knew you loved me by the way you looked at me. Am I wrong Amber, can I own your body, mind, soul, and . . . you?" I held back a tear, and then touched my cheek to hers, feeling warm skin please my face as she rubbed with light friction. We both pulled back, caressing each other's faces. We needed loving as two young woman set to a predetermined course. My course set in rich compliance, splendor, and confusion. Her course steady with richer domination, knowledge, and confidence. "I want you," I admitted. "I need you," I cried. "Yes, you do," she insisted as her nails ran tenderly from my cheek to chin. "This is you. This has always been you." "It is, isn't it?" I said and buried my head in her shoulder. "It is, and it's wonderful Amber—time for the freedom my kind can bring you." After her words, she slapped my ass hard and finished with, "You're mine." Her words caused me to ask a silent question born from shy curiosity, "What does 'my kind' mean?" Our lips met in a radiant kiss, soon her tongue pushed into my mouth with hunger. My tears flowed, and I accepted her tongue as it plunged, teasing the recesses of my mouth. Her hands raked down my arms with a feathery touch sending waves of yearning through my body. Tiny pinpricks covered me, and I shivered with a pleasure so rare. I could love, and love, I did. I anticipated her touch on my breasts, but she held back, tickling my arms, shoulders and face. We giggled like children, overjoyed in finding this passionate moment. Feeling faint, I held onto her tightly, embracing her in my arms so I wouldn't falter. She kissed me with short measured brevity, and then kissed me with flaming intensity. We battled tongues, encircling feverishly in a war of dwindling oxygen. I sucked her tongue, tasting warm wine and apple bubblegum. Rushing my tongue over her ivory teeth, I tickled her upper and lower gums. She bit my lower lip causing stimulating pain. Sucking my lip in and out of her mouth, she nibbled and teased. She moaned in want, biting and sucking, rubbing her hands on my bum, pushing her body to mesh with mine. Sochie lit a conflagration in my heart, a conflagration joining hers in passion's loving heat. "I knew," she whispered in my ear as her perfumed scent filled my nostrils. Biting lightly on my neck, she kissed and sucked a path from under my ear to the front of my body. She ravaged my breasts, licking through the material of my dress as I held her head firmly, pressing her face into my bosom. She licked, chewed, and bit. Then she decided to get busy. Neither of us realized we were still on the dance floor as time and place lost meaning. She sucked my nipples through my clothing, and soon we throbbed against each others body without a single care as to who saw. Her hand lifted my dress and touched the flesh of my soft buttock. We repeatedly pressed into each other in the throes of an obsession only sated through sex. Feeling another orgasm building in my privates, I said, "Not here, Sochie." She pulled away. "Fuck coffee. Let's go to my house." "No," I said, smiling. "Give it up Sweetmeat!" she smiled back at me. "You're mine now. No way you're getting away." Sochie held my hand, and we started walking to the exit. I walked with her, but stopped briefly and said, "I need to pay." "Then pay—hurry, fuck, I'm so horny." She looked at me breathing heavily, and then I noticed a change in her. She took several calming breaths, and whispered, "Hurry my Virgin Aphrodite, you have innocence to lose." She brought her hand to my cheek and touched me with such love I melted. I hungered for her touch; her soft and gentle caresses; her tongue licking my breasts, teeth biting my nipples, and mouth devouring my pussy. Still tasting her in my mouth and feeling her nails on my arms, I'd finally succumbed to this young woman I loved. I paid my bill and damn, Maeve winked at me. "Shit," I told her while smiling. She gave me the thumbs up and said, "'Bout time." She warned me, a warning I didn't understand, "Be careful with her. She's different." I gave her a questioning look. Maeve shrugged and pointed for me to leave. Sochie waited by the door. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, curling her hair with her finger. She extended her hand pointing her index finger at me. Confidently, then she pointed her finger at her pussy, knowing I needed to fuck her—fuck her over, sadly. λλλλλλ → This is for Jellybean, Misty, and my truelove, Amy. These humans move me. I'll post the conclusion soon and work hard to make it worthy of the reader's time, so please, do not get frustrated if it takes me two or three weeks. I can't rush these things due to my inexperience. Writing is hard for me, but it gives me joy. She Moves Me Ch. 02 Author notes I thank Jellybean and Noira for putting up with me. You may need to read the first submission of this story to understand this section. The story has a conclusion to be submitted soon. ******* The past. Soon after my ninth birthday, I climbed to the roof of my house as the morning sun broke over the horizon. Perched near the edge of the roof, the warmth beat down on my sunburned face. I surveyed my surroundings, gloating in the brilliant arrogance of youth. Birdsong combined with a cooling wind producing a dizzy euphoria in my mind—a confused mind filled with a sense of awe at the riches of life. The shingles were hot, but never too hot for me. I sighed, realizing a weirdness existed within me—a difference from other children my age because I liked the sting. I didn't know why, and didn't really care. I looked over the edge to the ground, paused, and wondered if I could fly. Taking a deep breath, I jumped. Three hours later, a Middle Eastern Doctor with a spicy odor set my arm. I felt happy about the discomfort of pain...and oddly depressed because I felt happy. ******* The present. The two of us walked holding hands to my car: a 1969 Mustang Mach 1 convertible presented by my parents on my graduation from college. My pride and joy, I spared no expense on the sexy car's upkeep. "Wow," said Sochie, rubbing her palm against the hood of the car. "Why don't you drive, and you can bring me back later to get my car?" Her tone indicated for me to comply. I nodded. I watched the way her strong hand fondled the car. Small, yet quick and fluid, I tingled as though her fingers were pleasing me, stroking with passionate grace. I needed her. She grinned at my willingness to comply. For some reason, I felt humiliated, a feeling I deserved. My upbringing taught me lesbians were miscreants, societal trash to cast asunder in a rubbish heap. Our die seemed cast—could I do this? I knew the answer. We both did. "What?" I asked, wanting to hear her voice again, trying to get her to say anything. She continued to rub my car for a few seductive seconds with her hand, ignoring me. I held my breath and waited for her to answer. After a long moment, she said, "Never mind, I'm going to get my hand bag from my car. Be right back." I looked away from her and nodded, smiling inwardly at my good fortune to be with a woman as hot and confident as Sochie—everything I wanted to be, and couldn't. Automatically, I picked at my cuticles with my fingernails, a nasty habit from my youth. The sting helped me think. Sochie seemed confident one moment and then spoiled the next. Her tirade in the bar both frightened and excited me. She possessed a manner filled with youth and impertinence, of a brat determined to get her way. It didn't matter. On my part, it represented a need for her domination. A need I craved. Arriving back at my car with a large Gucci handbag, she pointed to the driver's seat, indicating for me to sit. I did as she wished with no questions, because I didn't want to cause any problems. As we slid into the car, I asked, "Are you positive your parents are gone?" She smiled, and said, "Nervous are we? So what if they're at home? What would you do about it?" I looked away from her, because I knew I'd go with her anyway. She continued, "Daddy's a Navy man from way back. Graduated from Annapolis in '89 and now works as a naval engineer when he feels like it. We own a yacht. He took off with Mummy to Jamaica for the season. We have money due to a gyroscope thingy he invented." I nodded. "Put the top down," she insisted. I didn't answer, but pushed the button for the top. I shyly looked over at her. The light of the street lamp highlighted the glitter on her cheeks, and she smiled with gleaming white teeth. As the top fully receded, the scent of looming rain and fresh flowers filled my nostrils, I sighed. The cooling evening drifting to slumber gave me pause, a brief pause of painful reflection— At thirteen, I started cutting. I knew why by then. The pain of the cut took away other pain. My ritual represented a pseudo-religious experience in my warped view of reality, and I used my Minnie Mouse pendant as my cross and played Wagner as my benediction. I cut under my knees, only enough to hurt, leaving small scars, but nothing too noticeable. One day, I cut too deeply and ended up in the emergency room. When the doctor saw the scars, he frowned and looked at my mother. She spanked me the same night. She didn't understand. The spankings only fed my need. —fast does this thing go?" She flipped her hand in the air dismissively. I assumed she meant the car. I responded, "How fast do you want it to go?" Revving up the powerful engine to get her attention, I continued, "This is an original. The candy apple red paint job is factory applied. The only addition is the sound system." The vibrating motor sent a small thrill through my body as Sochie's lithe fingers turned on the radio, a high-end Alpine system. Sexual Healing, by Marvin Gaye, played from the crisp speakers. She moved her fingers to my thigh, raking upward with her sharp nails, causing a slight discomfort. The feeling frightened me. I knew I enjoyed pain, but had long ago learned to hide the happiness it caused me. My hand went to my crooked jaw, and I reflected on the day I learned to hide my pain. At a local park, I smoked pot, kissed and masturbated for about an hour with a girlfriend, JeyZee. We decided to go to Taco Bell to satisfy our hunger—sex and pot made us hungry. On the way there, I crashed into a ditch, breaking my jaw and leaving a small scar on my cheek. The problem wasn't my pain, or the scar, or the quick working paramedic who saved my life. JeyZee didn't make it. I lived, sort of. I took no chances after the wreck. My mother seemed happy. —want this?" she asked. "What?" I asked, waking from my momentary reverie. "Don't you listen?" Silence, except for the song and rumbling motor. "Answer," she insisted while slapping my thigh. Startled, I looked over at her. Her face looked innocent, yet innocence had little to do with the demanding nature of her question. She slapped again and asked, "You do want this?" "Yes and no, but more yes than no," I admitted quickly, "it's just work and Jeff, not you. It's a hard to come to terms with all of it. I had a girlfriend, and..." I looked down from the road to her fingers. They moved closer to my middle. I whispered, "You're perfect." "I know," she said with no pretension. "But you do want it." "Yes," I said, with only a touch of remorse. The remorse resulted from an internal battle. I desired her control, and I feared the world knowing my true nature. "Good, and don't worry, Amber, I won't get you in any trouble. It'll be between us for as long as you like. I understand part of it's because I'm a student, but you must deal with the other part. You will deal with the other part. I'm not your typical twenty-one-year-old sophomoron." Marvin Gaye drifted through the chorus of his song. Lightning struck in the distance, indicating the arrival of a thunderstorm blowing in from the North to feed the parched land. Sochie waited for some type of response from me, and I felt her eyes staring at me. With my soul an open window, I bade her enter. Lightning struck again. I silently counted the seconds, one, two, three, four, five. The windows of the car shook as the lightning turned into disturbing thunder. By counting the seconds, I estimated we had about thirty minutes before the deluge soaked the car. "Can I close the top?" I asked. "Wait," she said. "You wanted to say more?" Lightning, one, two, three, four, fi... "And you didn't say please," she added. "It's not you I worry about. Please?" I asked. "What do you worry about? And yes, you may." Forgetting about the top, I fought to keep from answering Sochie. Nevertheless, her demeanor made it hard for me to refuse her, and I said, "What being with you might do to me." "What's that?" she asked with a smug grin, knowing the power her pussy held over me. I moved uncomfortably in my seat, "Too much Sochie." I paused and took a deep breath, and then said, "But you're so beautiful..." She smiled in full acceptance of my want, a desire so wicked, yet strong and thrilling. She took my hand from the steering wheel and brought it to her mouth, licking my palm. Her tongue savored each finger. The knowledge of her enjoyment of the hand that masturbated her pussy at the club thrilled me. Anything I could do to make her happy thrilled me. She licked each finger, lingering and taking her time as if drinking a glass of fine wine, the wine of womanhood, the drink of life, a decadent bite of Eve's apple. Placing her hand back on my thigh, she resumed toying, pinching and slapping in a clear message of dominance. Her hand moved closer to my pussy. Sochie toyed with my need, making me wait for pleasure, pulling my strings as if I were puppet. Stopping at a red light, I glanced at her nipples. The lovely peaks bounced with every twist of her body. The pulse beating in her neck drummed directly to my need. I wanted her more than anything in recent memory, perhaps my entire history. With certainty, Sochie would write a new history for Amber Tyson, a history written without pen or paper and more pleasant than the current tragic novel. Inching her hand up further until it rested between my legs on top of my panties, she pressed roughly, then slapped my pussy once. The pain pleased me. "Come for me, Amber," she told me in a teasing voice. I concentrated on orgasm. She stroked and slapped my pussy a few times. A horn honked behind us. We looked at each other, and then she laughed, producing a gravely sound from deep within her throat. Her eyes looked possessed, exuding a wicked sense of eroticism through me. All of her moods changes were difficult to fathom, leaving me confused about a reaction. Some part of me knew she changed her moods to add to my uncertainty. Nonetheless, the strange mixture of confusion and her demanding nature made me feel wanted. "Speed up?" she asked. I sped away, not knowing if she meant to leave the intersection, or if she intended to massage my intersection. As I drove, she rubbed my middle with greater care, again switching in temperament, becoming kind and loving. I lowered in the seat, sighed and tried to speak, but my mouth said nothing. My words needed no expression, for my body spoke for me in a joyous song of pleasure, the theater of the submissive and queer, with Shakespeare but an incompetent linguist in comparison to the surreal play taking place between my legs. Abruptly, she removed her hand from my womanhood. Her mettle changed again and she seemed more brisk, more determined to the point of cruel. "I'm not ready for you to come yet," she said. "I changed my mind. Don't come until I give you permission." Sochie fiddled with her dress and then pulled off her panties, revealing a thin sprinkling of curly-black hair between her legs. She put her panties up to my nose. "Smell," she told me with the voice of a woman who knew what she wanted and knew she would get it. I inhaled her femininity. It smelled of woman with a slight masculine scent. "I wear Polo Blue," she said. "I love men's colognes much more than women's. You do make me happy, and I can see your body likes what I'm doing. Why have you teased me for so long, Amber? Why so long? I'll make you pay for playing me." I loved the way she teased me, toying in her strange way, the way of cruel kindness my type required, a way born from her obvious experience. Although determined not to, a smile turned the corners of my lips. "Oh, you think all of this is funny, dear Amber?" I couldn't stop smiling. The cause of my happiness rested much deeper than humor, a need finding joy in Sochie's strength. I felt loved and protected in a manner too difficult to explain or understand. Perhaps Pavlov's salivating dog helped explain it, or Skinner's rat finding questionable intelligence. My past had trained me much as the dog or the rat, and I was as much caged or collared as they were. "Do you like my panties?" she asked. I nodded, avoiding eye contact. Placing one hand on her pussy and the other on mine, she applied ministrations to both of us. "How about my pussy?" she asked. I looked at the road, not daring to look at her. Something close to a nod came her way from my head. She enjoyed my arousal at her wordplay and easily entered my folds under the crotch of my panties. "Don't come," she warned. With a sharp contraction, my velvet spoke of how much it enjoyed her touch; the contraction caused my hands to involuntarily move the steering wheel producing a small jar as we drove on the busy street. The jar made me nervous, because I almost came. She smiled at my struggles. "I see this isn't going to work. She removed her hand from my pussy. "Open your mouth," she said. I opened, and she stuffed her panties in my mouth, slapping me on the cheek afterwards. She slapped several more times, then squeezed my cheeks tightly. "That's better. Red becomes you." I looked straight ahead, needing more of her sharp slaps against my face. Sochie knew and slapped me again. I tried to keep from smiling as not to anger her over my pleasure. "Play with yourself," she demanded. "N-Need to drive," I said with a mouth stuffed with panties. "Not my problem," she teased. My fingers found my clit, producing a small charge in my body. Hearing sounds from her playing with her pussy made it almost impossible to concentrate on driving. I wanted to sit back, see her playing with herself and enjoy the pleasure reeling in my middle and mouth, but conversely, driving with her panties in my mouth as we both masturbated was one of the sexiest feelings I'd ever felt. We stopped at another red light. "Taste me, and stop playing with yourself before you come," she said, pulling her panties out of my mouth and placing her fingers just out of reach. I leaned forward, reaching for her fingers with my tongue. Teasingly, she pulled her hand back as my tongue closed in. I moved closer to her fingers, but she kept them from me. "Beg," she said. I said nothing. "Hmm," she said. "Maybe you should drop me off back at the club." "No," I responded loudly. "No," I whispered. "Please?" "Not convincing," she said, pulling her hand away and stimulating herself with both of her hands. "Please?" I begged her, needing her flavor and happiness. I hated the feeling of her not being satisfied with me. "Not good enough," she said while masturbating. "I'll just entertain myself. You don't deserve my juice. I can get anyone." "Don't do this. Please?" I begged, feeling complete loss and shame. She smiled and relented, stopping her masturbation after a few seconds and allowing me to taste her juice. I licked all of her flavor from her fingers like a dog, loving her as a puppy seeking a master. "That's my woman," she said in a pleasing voice, pulling her fingers from my mouth, she leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. "Thank you," I said softly, and opened my mouth, waiting anxiously for her to return her fingers. She quickly gave me what I wanted. "Thirsty?" she asked. I nodded. Sochie tasted earthy, with a mix of sweat, mushroom and sugar that smelled of wet leaves. The taste sweetened an already joyous ride; a ride that soon moved from joy to splendor. She removed her hand from my mouth and entered both of our pussies again. As she stroked, she leaned back in her seat and smiled in a way that only those of her disposition can smile—the smile of a woman loving women, of a confidant woman sure of the power of her sex. I tried not to, but my smile joined hers, and I rejoiced in the moment, loving and needing her. With the glowing skin of youth, she showed the satisfaction heard in the music of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, and the dominance felt in Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries. Cars started honking; an angry gent in fine haberdashery and a conflicting yellow pick-up truck made an obscene gesture. Reacting like a teen, Sochie blew him a kiss with her wet fingers. He smiled and yelled something about a threesome. Sochie ignored him, returning her fingers to our pussies and pleasing the both of us with her rough touch. I knew maleness wouldn't enter this picture this evening. I enjoyed penetration, but it seemed more exciting to me when the item doing the penetration was worn by a female. The song switched to melodious soul; and I could sense Sochie becoming very aroused by the sounds she made. My own arousal made it difficult for me to drive. I sensed her eyes looking at me, and she said, "Come baby." I have no idea why or how, because usually it takes some effort for me to orgasm, but immediately following her words, I stiffened as an orgasm shot through my body. This climax tickled and toyed, arousing my nipples with a deep rush. My legs stiffened and Sochie grabbed the steering wheel momentarily as I closed my eyes and shook, pressing my foot down unconsciously against the gas pedal, increasing our speed to a frightening level. "Watch it," she yelled. I opened my eyes, gaining a small amount of self-control and lessening the pressure of my foot against the accelerator. "Watch out," she said softly. "I'm not ready to die yet. You still need to eat my pussy. I nodded, stifling the rest of the tingly orgasm back into my body, leaving me needy for more. Sochie leaned back in her seat and dreamily said, "Amber, such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." While speaking she stroked her middle, soon tightening her legs and breathing heavily. Her ass lifted from her seat as orgasm quickly found her, possessed her and made her its mistress. She stroked her sex, radiating a joy of comforting delight and tickling her innermost feeling of pleasure. The pleasure found in the brain of her clit. A brain with only the purpose of orgasm and much wiser than the one resting on top of a women's heads, for this brain knew how to circumvent resistance, finding the pleasure centers of all of female bodies. I loved the way she said my name. I loved everything about her, swallowing her words to increase the rich feelings already in my body. Her manner and words were my nourishment, and her rough touches and sugary body my last supper. "Damn, you, Amber," she casually said, "I think I love you. I hate that you did this to me. Damn you, I'm not supposed to fall in love." I looked at her face as she writhed in the after, the feeling of woman after our bodies release the flood of emotional orgasm. The relaxing tenderness of goose pimples caressing, flesh reddening, cheeks burning, sweat trickling, and blood pulsing in a prickly afterlife in our bodies—a spiritual orgasm resting in slumber, because soon it would enjoy the pleasure of many friends. I loved her— Oh how I loved when she said my name, feeling enriched more than Solomon. Sochie paid me in wealth greater than Bathsheba—my Hypatia, my Sapphos, Lady Gwynevirre and Venus queen, when suddenly an obtuse thought tested me, surely she wasn't my Juliet? A few seconds later, she looked at me with vigor, breaking my silent repose, "I can't wait any longer. I want to hold you and kiss you. Just kiss you, talk to you, tell you what you mean to me. Pull over! Pull over now! Damn you, Amber. I'm not supposed to love you. Why you? Why you?" Oh yes, loved— "Pull over," she demanded again. "Where?" I asked, still not believing that Sochie wanted a woman like me. "I don't care. Just pull over." —with each stinging beat of my heart. She Moves Me Ch. 02 I spied a vacant alley and turned the powerful sports car into the darkness. Turning off the motor and lowering the radio as Highway to Hell by AC/DC, thundered roughly, the car came to a quick stop. I chuckled and thought it fitting considering the road just taken. Lightning struck again, and soon the first drops of a shower were upon us. "Put up the top," she said. I complied. Surveying our surroundings, I saw a decrepit dumpster that smelled up the tiny alley, but that dumpster wouldn't matter in the next few minutes. The coast looked clear, nonetheless, it wouldn't have mattered if a derelict or two slept in the alley. I moved toward Sochie and kissed her. She returned my affection by using her tongue to examine my mouth. Her mood became tender and loving. I felt as if part of her needed my affection as her equal and another part wanted my compliance. Honestly, I didn't care. I would be whatever she wanted, as long as I had her to love. We kissed and fondled each other's bodies for minutes. I'd experimented with a few girls in high school and college, and needed the touch of a female. Girls felt different and understood that touching and romance were as important as banging. Enjoying each other's arousal, I knew our affection promulgated from within and qualified as more than just a bang. In my jaded view of existence, the way she looked at me provided a new level of peace. Her soon spoken words signaled she felt the same. "I can't believe what you do to me. Such a loss of control. I hate this feeling, but I do love you. I do. I can't believe it. I didn't think I could love. I have all these feelings for you, Amber; I have for such a long time. I'm sorry I'm a bitch. You do seem to need it and like domination in sex. It just bothers me that I've fallen for you so badly." She paused to let her words sink in. I started crying. Sochie reached over, stroked my hair, kissed my cheek and hugged me tightly. "Don't cry, my sweet Amber. I'll always protect you. I'll never let anyone harm you. I have my needs and you have yours, but if love is underneath it all, it's all that matters. Now, I know what we are doing. Hope this doesn't end with a one night girly fuck, but if that's all it is," she paused and sighed, "then I'll be okay. I truly believe that we could be more..." She paused again. "Do you love...?" She didn't finish her thought, but I understood her question. Except for a raging song, a cat screaming in need of a lover, and Sochie's beating heart, the universe slept—silence, but the last trace of my confusion didn't slumber. Taking a deep breath and wiping my tears from my face, I said, "I don't know, Sochie, I'm...oh god, yes, why am I lying to myself? No, I can't. I can't. Jeff, no one knows I'm... I've always hidden. I'm not even sure sometimes." I stopped and started over again a few seconds later, " Sochie—oh shit—Sochie, what are we doing? I just don't know..." "Listen to me and be quiet," she said taking control of the situation, her mood switching to tough, yet loving. "You're a lesbian, not bisexual, aren't you?" "Sochie, don't ask. Stop, I can't love you." I lied, crying and choking on my words. She touched my hair. "Liar and listen to me," she said firmly. "It's time, don't you think? Are you going to deny how you feel for the rest of your life? Maybe it isn't me, maybe it isn't us, but you are what you are, and you can't deny your soul, or you will always be unhappy." She glared at me as a tear drifted down my face. What she said rang true; it hurt. "I'm sorry," I said. There was a long pause. "Sochie, let's not talk about this right now." She took a few deep breaths, calming down and becoming kind, reticent, and loving, "Okay, but a couple of small things?" "K," I managed to say. "Listen to me. I'm not going to play this game of domination anymore with you this evening. I can't. It doesn't work with you. I hate feeling this way. I hate what you're doing to me. So, no more games, baby. This is just me, maybe the real me for the first time in years. Sure, we can sex that way if you want it. Lord knows I need it, but with you, I'll change." "I-I like it when you dominate me," I admitted. "I'm not sure all of the reasons why." "It's your type. You're a submissive at heart. I've been assuming you're submissive for months, but it's not your submission I want. Sure, that may be the nature of our relationship in the future, but there is more to it. There is love and respect underneath it all. I want your submission...shit, I can't believe I'm saying this. What am I saying, I'm so confused?" She paused and started over. "I want your submission, but I'd rather have your love." Lightning struck in close proximity to the alley. Static electricity caused my skin to crawl. The radio went silent for a moment. "First step, admit you're a lesbian," she insisted. "What?" I said, gathering a modicum of resolve. "I'm not..." "Say, 'I'm a lesbian'," she interrupted. "Sochie..." "I. Am. A. Lesbian. Say it." "Sochie it's hard. My parents, my job, Jeff. It's hard," I said, beginning to weaken against her firm manner while trying to stifle the hiccups. Sochie reached over and hugged me. "The world expects us to be normal, and what we want isn't bad or evil. It's our normal. We feel guilty because of our upbringing. Just say it. I'm a lesbian." I thought who's the counselor here? and marveled at this young girl's courage. I admired her self-confidence. Authoritative yet kind, she owned wisdom and desire. Brazen about her lesbianism, she didn't care what others thought. I wanted to please her, yet still balked at her suggestion of admitting the truth aloud. Confusion reigned supreme, one moment I wanted nothing more than what she desired, and then the next, doubt flamed within me. Too difficult, too many rickety bridges yet crossed, perhaps I was wrong, perhaps it was...too much. As if guessing my thoughts, she said, "My father always taught me to be honest. Came out when I was thirteen. My aunt seduced me; thought I was a pervert. I told my father of my feelings about girls, but not about my mother's sister. He told me something back then, something I'll never forget: Whatever you are my Sochie, lesbian or straight, God made you that way, and God doesn't make mistakes. I will love you no matter what you are. "My outward persona at school is my vain attempt to tell the world to fuck off; but I must admit. Taken many lovers for a girl my age—not proud of it. It all just exploded in me; I wanted it so badly. I am viciously dominant, viciously controlling. It's different with you. Amber, look at me, look in my eyes." I gave her a cautious look. What I saw excited me. Her eyes blazed with life, passionate and thirsty, needing my love as much as my being needed hers. "I love you," she said. "I love you. Damn you." Again, there was a long moment of silence. "I've behaved better the last few months and now most of it is just an act," she said. "Until you—tonight—that I know isn't an act. I've loved you for a long time; hoped for a chance like this." After a few seconds, she said, "Amber, this is me. Who are you?" At this moment a strange thing happened, sometimes queerness occurs out of fate. Rain beat down on the car and a small green parrot, a refugee from a zoo, or perhaps an escapee from a home, landed in the windshield. The parrot looked at Sochie, and then looked at me, seeming to ask, "Well, what's your answer, human?" I took a deep breath, and said, "Oh, Sochie, I am..." Lightning struck, one, two. Thunder rumbled through the car. Seconds later, many small drops of rain fell to the top of the car, causing small thuds to reverberate. She looked at me and asked, "And?" I started to finish, but looked away. She waited patiently. Breathing deeply, I let the words fly from my mouth after a few seconds, afraid I'd never admit the truth, "I am a lesbian, and... I love you." Done, finished, the moment that changed it all. The minuscule sliver of time that changed my perspective of the world and my place in it. I was a lesbian, and I basked in the grandeur of freedom. Life would never be the same. I suddenly felt glorious. Sochie hugged me tightly while kissing wet tears from my face. Our small comforting didn't last long as sex decided she needed more than words and hugs. Our kisses became torrid as we sought to please each other's bodies with our lips and touches. She broke from me and looked in my eyes. I looked away from her unable to take her passionate stare. She took my chin in her hand and forced me to look at her. I felt her warm breath teasing my cheeks as she breathed, hyperventilating without control. Pulling me close and touching my cheek with hers, she whispered, "You're so attractive, Amber. I've never felt this way before. Girls were always just sex to me. Amber, how can you do this to me?" She pulled back expecting an answer. I shrugged. "You have such a wicked pallor to your skin when you're aroused and the strange cleft in your chin—your magnificent cheeks and the lovely pink scar. Your eyes, did you know they have what looks like flecks of green and gold in them in the soft moonlight?" "Sochie," I spoke with emotion, "thank you, but I'm nothing compared to you. You know what you are. I'm nothing, right?" I needed her reassurance. She knew and gave me what I needed. "I'd hardly say nothing, baby. You're everything, at least to me. These plump breasts I hold in my hands, they make my mind want you like an alcoholic thirsty for drink. I want to hold you, look at you, and then make love to every cell in your body until the sun greets us in the morning. I've never loved before." Feeling overwhelmed that she told me she loved me, I laughed from nervousness and her words. I serenaded her lips with kisses and then whispered, "How are we going to do this?' "Right now I don't care. I need your sex. I need it now." I brought her hands to my lips and kissed them. First, I kissed the palms, rubbing them all over my face as I licked and loved. Then I took her fingers and placed them in my mouth one at a time, kissing and sucking each digit as if they were holy manna feeding the starving children of God. Sochie took control, sliding her nail over my tongue. Although awkwardly positioned, she found a way to fuck my mouth with one hand and rub my pussy with the other as I stared at her eyes, my mind full of need for her body. Her lips moved to my neck, biting with hunger as she teased my pussy with her fingers. I leaned back and let her destroy me, enjoying the stinging bites created by her sweet touch. She worked gently, swiftly, tenderly and quickly brought me close to orgasm. Purposely, she slowed down, heightening my arousal and making me wait to climax. Then she quickened again, bringing me to the brink before slowing as my need sought to peak. Sochie owned me, and we both knew it. "I need you closer to me. Come all you want. Come a hundred times. Come a thousand times. Let's please each other," she insisted, removing her hand from my mouth and pussy, causing me to moan in protest. "I want you to orgasm like never before. Understand?" she asked. I nodded, wanting her control and needing her love. Pushing me back in the seat, she climbed over the stick shift and straddled my thigh with her naked pussy as the rain thudded in a gusty torrent against the roof of the car. As she moved, her ass honked the horn. "Hell," she giggled, and then kissed me, attempting to remove my one-piece dress. Pushing the dress up past my lacy bra, she kissed on top of the soft material covering my breasts, soon soaking my nipples through the thin garment. Her hands traveled to all of the warm places in my body that I couldn't see, but feel, I did. Each electric touch of her nails sent stinging impulses from the point of contact to the cluster of nerve endings in my clit. On the verge of orgasm from her kisses and touches alone, I melted into the leather seat and let her wreak havoc on me. She thrust her womanhood into my thigh as lime-green nails continued to rake up and down my body. I felt warm juice leak from her pussy and smelled the scent of her love in the air as the rain pelted the top. Our screams of pleasure became maddening as we lost all control, pushing into each other like clumsy teen lovers. Her fingers went to my nipples and she pinched on top of my bra sending pleasing torture through me. Pressing my face in the thin material of her top, I sucked her nipples through the silky garment. Hurriedly, I lifted her top and pushed up her bra, exposing pale breasts that spoke to me in want of my lips. I nibbled, tasting the divine sweetness of her pink flesh and hot nipples. Sweat poured from her body as she pushed, and I delighted as that sweat mingled with mine. Our mixed sweat created a natural aphrodisiac called ecstasy—and ecstasy created orgasm! Sochie continued to press her middle downward to my thigh, shuddering as another light orgasm ran through her body. Her butt honked the horn again; a horny yellow cat hissed and ran by; our parrot received its answer and flew away. Thunder and lightning exploded simultaneously. The dull thuds on the car of raindrops roared into a cacophony of rugged song. We struggled to remove each other's clothing in a frustrating attempt to feel the warmth of our bodies meshing as one. In her struggles, she eventually ripped my dress from the neckline and tore it from my body. I rested beneath her writhing body in only my panties, bra and shoes. She clawed at my bra. "Get it off," she said. "Get it off; I need your breasts. I need to kiss your nipples. Get it off." "My clothes?" I resisted. "I don't care," she said, "and you won't either in a minute." Her teeth pulled down my bra as I struggle to unclasp the hook in the back. Unable to move quickly enough for her, she ripped a small tear with her teeth and tore my bra from my body. Taking her hands she squeezed my breasts, and then pinched my nipples as she pushed downward into my thigh; her body filled with the uncontrollable need to hurt, love, and please. She brought her mouth to my breasts and nibbled and bit, leaving small red marks of desire. I cringed with passion, enjoying the wicked pain and the way she demonstrated her love. Her mind possessed me in loving hurt. The pain I needed and wanted. The hurt of her satisfying passion so filled with the rich meaning of our type of love. I unselfishly gave, and she selfishly took. She looked in my eyes and said, "You're mine. I'll never let anyone have you; no one does this to me. I'll never love another like I love you. Never." "Yes," I responded. "I'm yours. Only yours." "I know," she said with a grin. She moved her lips into mine, and we kissed deeply, fighting tongues and pushing into each other. The feeling maddened me, and I wanted her to hurt me, pinch me, the pain that brought me so much pleasure. Sochie decided that she had enough of the small confines of my car, "Open the frickin door!" she demanded and then removed her dress, leaving her nude accept for her half removed bra and heels. I complied; she slid out of the car as the rain came down in a torrent. Lightning flashed brightly followed quickly by thunder, nonetheless, I didn't care about the pelting rain nor the frightening noise; I needed sex. I needed her. Removing a carpeted floor mat, she placed it on the ground then went to her knees. I turned around, faced her and spread my legs in front of her hungry face. She raked the inside of my thighs, leaving small red whelps and causing me to shiver as warm sensations of bliss ran through my body. Her lips kissed my thighs. Flittering her nails against my skin with sleek touches, she moved ever closer to my place of need; I pushed my need ever closer to her teasing. The rain beat down on her body, soaking her hair in luscious wonder as frequent lightning strikes gave her a heavenly glow. As fingers moved to the crotch of my panties, I felt her wet tongue close in on my shaved pussy. She stopped at the small tattoo of a butterfly only seen when I spread my legs. "It's beautiful," she said pausing briefly between kisses. "Not too many, seen it—Ah—please?" I begged. "I'm honored, and yes, come for me, baby. Come for me. Let my tongue make you come," she said while looking up at me. As I impatiently pushed my pussy to her mouth, we held hands at my waist. I didn't know what she thought. Lord knows I barely could think, but I remembered the emotion of happiness; happiness that stirred sexual and spiritual freedom. Freedom to love, live, want, please, and need a woman like this. The hell with the consequences, sex was good, love was better, and I needed sex and love with Sochie for the rest of my life. Placing her fingers on my crotch, I watched her slip practiced fingers beneath my white panties. With unquestioned expertise, she circled my labia and then wet my vulva with juice. The sensation made it difficult for me to breathe, which only increased when she entered her index finger in my cove, probing like a miner searching for riches. When Sochie found wealth, she stimulated that wealth until I moaned. Relentless in her efforts to gratify, she tickled and teased, wickedly smiling at my pleasure. "Gawd," I moaned. "F-feels so incredi . . .need to come." It felt greater than the mere joy of orgasm as a sense of openness and acceptance flooded my senses. I felt like the first time in fifth grade, when my best friend slept over. We secretly smooched in my room, and I felt a warmth in my body I didn't understand at the time. Now, my understanding was much deeper, the warmth needed no explanation, for a finger stirred the warm through nature's libidinous flowering—and flower, I did, in a multitude of sun kissed orchids and roses fit for a queen. "Whatever you want," she said, as she stroked, stroked, and stroked. She moved her face into me and supped. Eating in and around my middle, kissing the creamy goodness of what made me a woman. Her lips sucked my clit to her teeth. Sochie lightly bit, forcing a passionate scream from the animal in my psyche; the animal harkening back to the days of our primordial history. A history born from the need of conquest and reproduction, and good god, she took victory in that conquest. After a few minutes of tittering on the edge of a cliff, I sensed her face moving back and felt tapping on my bottom. I lifted, and white panties soon flew through the air landing in a wet puddle of rain. Lightning and thunder, noise and sensation, the smell of wet rain, musky sex, and electricity, her warm and slippery touch, all imbued me with the essence of orgasm. Just breathe— She drank my wine. Sochie placed her mouth on my pubis, thirsting like a kitten looking for her mother's teat. Her tongue sought and found all the sensitive spots in my folds. Pushing her face deep within my middle, she darted her tongue in and out of my pussy. I wrestled her hair, screaming in delight as she reentered her index finger and slowly explored my Eden. She sucked my labia into her mouth repeatedly, and then gently nibbled the sensitive skin with her teeth. oxygen to burning lungs, blood to thirsty cells, cells to starving atoms— Within seconds, as I screamed amid roaring thunder strikes, my entire body seemed to leave my mind. Deep within me orgasm welled and came rushing in a flood of frenzy causing tide after tide to flood Sochie's wet face. I gushed fluid to join the soaking rain. She continued to lick, suck, bite, and I continued to gush, writhe and moan in peeking orgasms only topped by the energy of the nearby lightning strikes. White lightning flashes, orgasm. Thunderous noise quakes, orgasm. The world rumbles, orgasm...orgasm...orgasm...orgasm... She Moves Me Ch. 02 — just breathe. Unable to catch my breath, I tittered at the verge of consciousness for a few long seconds. Sochie noticed and took leave of my pussy to allow me to recover, and recover I did, with feelings of need even greater than before. I shook my head and breathed deeply as white stars flashed in my head. Looking at a soaking wet Sochie, smiling at producing such climatic joy in my body, I felt energetic and ready for more, more happiness, more pain, more orgasm, more pleasing. But my pleasure sought refuge in pleasing her. As happy as her bringing me to bliss made me feel, I knew my true satisfaction only would be sated when her needs were replete. She glowed with delight as if the Virgin Mother had touched her soul, happy, yet with full knowledge of an unfinished task. Her skin tingled against mine as she rested on my belly and kissed my navel, traveling upward and meeting my lips in a soft kiss. "You okay?" she asked, truly concerned. "Yes," I mumbled. "Everything came out of me. I've never came with such intensity." "There's a lifetime of orgasms waiting for us." "You know it's not easy for me," I whispered. "I know, but you will make the correct decision. You can't live life as a lie." "No, no more lies," I said. But a few minutes later, I lied—a lie I regretted for years afterwards. ******* Thank you N, M, J, and B. This is for us. She Moves Me Ch. 03 Author Notes This part stands fairly well on its own, but to enjoy it better, you may want to read the first two parts. *Wet Kisses* I love you B, J, N, and my mentor M. ******* Sochie and Amber have left the club. The two are making love in a deserted alleyway. Sochie just ate Ambers pussy, and the action reconvenes. She took my hand and pulled me up from the seat. I stood and faced her, hungry for her touch. “I’m not finished with you yet,” she said. Sochie pushed me back into the car door and pressed her body against mine. As the prickly hair of her pussy tickled the skin of my belly, my senses reacted to her forceful attack by lifting me to rarified air. She raised one of my legs, spreading it wide and repeatedly thrusting her hips. Moving her lips to mine, she kissed me with great need and energy. My vulva felt every plunge, and her strength ratcheted up my sensitivity to intolerable levels. Each beat of her heart touched my pulse; each rough kiss of her lips fed my hunger; each warm slap of her hand raised my arousal. She pushed with the zeal of a woman possessed. I needed to liberate the raw energy that waited in ready like a pouncing cat, but she pulled back after a few seconds, making my pussy seek satisfaction with greater need. "Please?" I begged, as my demand for pleasure enslaved me as a prisoner in chains to this woman. "Wait," she whispered, "I want to enjoy every part of you first, turn around." I turned around to comply, helpless in my need of her—this insatiable desire for her sex, this worshiping of Sochie at the altar of need. She bent me over the hood of the car, pressing her hips into me and simulating fucking me. Powerless in her strong clutch, I let her pound like a hammer. She slapped my bottom a few times, leaving a tingle of joy with each slap. "Your ass is red and lovely. I like my asses red." She said in my ear while bending down and nipping my neck with small bites. Spooning against my back, she kissed my neck, and then reached around and pinched my nipples. Sochie tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled with slight pressure while continuing to pound into my bottom, pushing my hips against the car. After a few minutes of thrusting, she rose from my back, and said, "Hold on a sec, don't move." "Yes," I moaned softly. Lifting my head as the rain beat down on my body. I watched her go around to the far door of the car, open it and reach in her handbag. She pulled out a haltered dildo, inserted a small cock in her vagina, and strapped halter around her waist. My eyes followed her every move as she walked back to me, the dildo swinging back and forth and dripping with rainwater. It didn't look exactly like a cock, more feminine, thick and short, with a curve at the end designed to hit a G-Spot. As she approached, she said, "I want you to enjoy." "Yes," I mumbled, unable to offer anything more. I felt the dildo tease my vagina as she stood; pressing the tip against my entrance. The thought of her fucking me increased my pulse to a sharp thud in my ear. Slowly, she eased the tip in a fraction of an inch and stopped. I couldn't wait and pushed my bottom back into her, forcing the shaft to enter me completely. The tip of the dildo pressed on my G-Spot as I backed my ass into her, causing me to scream in a language only we understood—the language of ribald pleasure, the speaking in tongues of ecstasy, and the sought after shouts of the orgasm. She pulled out as I started to come and teased, "Not so fast sweetness. Let me enjoy this at least a few minutes. Are you ready now? Do you think you can hold off?" I nodded, knowing I would orgasm as soon as she entered me. "Let me do the work. Just relax, enjoy." A small moan came from my mouth. She inserted the dildo in my vagina again, easily entering the entire shaft. With her first quick thrust and retraction, I came due to so much need resting in wait. The orgasm peaked and faded within seconds, and she kept pounding into my bottom and slapping. "More," she insisted, "come again." 'More,' I gave her, as I pushed back into her hips with matching thrusts. The phallus rubbed against my G-Spot with each deep push of her hips, and after a few minutes of fucking, I felt another orgasm building. This orgasm took hold of me, and I shuddered as feelings of splendor filled my essence. The rush produced a strange mix of sensations—a mix filled with the need to urinate, combined with the exhilaration of vaginal teasing. Deep and satisfying, the orgasm lingered, rumbling through my pussy walls with sensitive contractions. The power stunned me; I didn't know sex felt so good. My legs tightened, and I sensed each muscle in my body contract in unison. All air vacated my lungs, forcing me to fight for oxygen. Finally, I simply shook while holding my breath and straining with my mouth wide open saying nothing. Then I collapsed to the hood of the car, but she kept fucking. Unable to take any more torturous pleasure, I pushed against her hips. Thankfully, she relented, but only briefly. As she pulled out, the dildo rubbed one last time against my G-Spot, and I released another wet climax. Not allowing any time for me to recover, Sochie went to her knees and inserted three fingers in my pussy, causing a ripping tide of fury to flood my mind. I felt her wet tongue tickling near my anus. Soon she used the juice from my apple, rain, and her saliva to soak my bud. My anus, cleaned by rainwater, felt her tongue lick deeply, and the prickly sensation created a sense of decadence greater than anything I'd ever felt. My husband had plucked my ass a time or two with his rigid cock, but this felt unique, different, and heady. The reason for the difference seemed obvious; I loved the woman eating my ass. She removed her tongue, and a single finger teased my hole. I felt her gingerly enter. The feeling was joyful, completely unlike the anal sex when Jeff shoved his penis in my ass. He had no clue how to lubricate or stretch, while Sochie had no such problem. Patiently, she entered while slowly whispering for me to relax and not fight. Soon, her entire finger filled my ass; she pounded both my pussy and ass with her fingers, driving me insane. She slowed and then sped up, tickling her fingers in spots that left me embroiled in that place between pleasure and pain. Nipping on my bottom repeatedly with her teeth, she laughed, and continued to render me helpless with her fingers. I felt a small rip as she entered a second finger in my bud. Brooking no resistance on my part, she purposefully guided me with her smooth words. She did it slowly, encouraging me to relax while telling me the feeling was joyful. The way she talked made me believe her. She had this way of taking control―insistent, yet pleasant and kind. I shuddered as Sochie added a third finger in my ass. I felt some ripping pain, but an enjoyable pain, a mixture of depravity and pleasure. "Can you take more?" she asked. "Don't know," I managed to whisper. "Do you like it?" Her voice sounded concerned for my comfort. I nodded. She pounded, pounded, and pounded. "Better wait for my gloves and lube before I try any more. Maybe tonight. I love anal sex. Might need to try my dildo up your ass tonight." "Mmmm, now," I responded, unable to think clearly as she continued to pound, pound, and pound. "Sure? This one isn't made for an ass." I nodded, and she rose to her feet, removing her fingers. "It's going to hurt some at first, so relax your muscles and don't fight. Once your anus is relaxed, you'll feel a unique pressure like no other. Relax, my love. I'm entering now." I felt the tip of the dildo on my rose, and surprisingly, I sensed little pain, rather immediate sensations of wealth. As she pushed the entire length of the shaft in my ass with only small resistance, I felt some stretching sensations, but nothing too painful. "It's in. You okay?" she asked. I whispered, "Fuck my ass hard." She did. Sochie went at me with fervor, no doubt driven by the dual sensation of the small dildo pushing in her pussy and the thrill of ass fucking. Reaching my hand under my belly, I fingered my pussy as she fucked my ass. I loved the feeling of total submission combined with her complete control. She fucked like a crazed woman, and started screaming, "Come my fuck slut. Come for Mummy, come like a good little girl." "Fuck me!" I yelled. "Fuck me?" I pleaded. "Fuck me," I whispered. "Fuck!" she screamed between each thrust. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" "Fuck," I whispered only to myself, feeling so warm in my submission to her. I relaxed, and allowed all sensations to well through my body like a spring feeding a desert. Lightening struck a few hundred yards from us, and the crinkly atmosphere along with cooling rain made me feel wealthy. She fucked, fucked, and fucked. I loved, loved, and loved. I looked up, and our parrot was on the hood of the car checking on our progress. The bird looked at me curiously and turned its head, seemingly asking, "Is this the way human's fuck?" I almost giggled as an answer teased my brain, Not all humans bird. Only lezzies with a penchant for pain who take it up the ass. The bird seemed satisfied, nodding its feathery head and flying away. Lightning flashed; thunder roared; Sochie fucked. In the name of all Greek Gods, Sochie fucked my ass with abandon, ripping a window to my soul! Under the strain of a cataclysmic orgasm, I quaked, screaming and unable to breathe. "Sochie!" I yelled, and then tried to relax briefly between periods of complete rapture. Hyperventilating, I screamed again, and again, and again as I reached orgasm again, and again, and again. At that moment, I felt we were wed; our vows shouted in orgasms, our bouquets tossed with dripping sweat, and our wine the juice of our pussies, circling our cups in an endless vortex of love. Sochie started coming, I could tell as her pushing became strained and erratic, her pacing pausing frequently as her body tightened in successive orgasms. One riptide after another rushed through me as she climaxed, with barely enough time for me to catch my breath between each successive rush. A rich tapestry of orgasmic glee found me, and I shuddered repeatedly, straining as all my blood went to my pussy and head. I marveled at this moment of ecstasy, never such as this, never with a young woman like this. Repeatedly, I pushed my bottom against her cock as she pounded, and repeatedly the pounding produced orgasmic sensations that peaked then slowed and peaked again. Orgasm followed by orgasm until they were only one timeless peak that atomized my core with unending excess in an explosion of love and satisfaction. Then all went dark. ******* As stinging lightning flashed in my eyes, I felt a hand caressing my head and heard a soft concerned voice whispering, "Amber, wake up. I'm sorry. I didn't know that would happen." I felt the hard ground against my back, as a mallet struck my head. "Wha...?" I tried to speak but felt queasy. "You passed out; fell to the ground...hit your head. You have a nasty little bump. I need to get you to my house—so sorry Amber—didn't know you were so orgasmic." Was it a bump on the head? Was it shock? Was it the sudden realization of what I had done and was doing? Or was it my insipid insecurity, sneaking up like a thief and stealing my chance for happiness? I couldn't do this. What would the world think? What about my job? I didn't know why, but I forgot everything and retreated back into the closeted lesbian—the love I felt for Sochie, the orgasmic freedom she so relished on me. I forgot it all―I fucked up. Standing up with Sochie's aid, I measured my surroundings with fear―fear that found home in the recesses of my mind. I cringed at my behavior, embarrassed of my nudity and lascivious actions. This was stupid, risky, with twenty-one-year-old student no less. I deserved arrest and punishment. Sochie noticed my reticence, and asked, "Are you all right?" Pulling from her clasp, I searched for my ripped dress and quickly put it on to hide my nudity. "Amber," she shouted, "what is it? I'm sorry. I didn't know." "Sochie," I whispered, "this is a mistake. It's wrong...must take you to your car." "NO," she yelled. "No," she said calmly, ratcheting down her emotions. "What? You liked it." The rain pelted our faces as we looked at each other. To my surprise, Sochie cried like a baby, her tears mixing with the rain. "No," she yelled as her spittle spewed from her lips. "I can't," I said with urgency, turning my head to the side. We paused, but I felt her breathing increase and anger surge. "Cunt!" she shouted. Then she slapped me so hard I almost fell down. The slap caused the pain in my head to increase in intensity. The pain helped hide my real hurt, the hurt of sacrificing myself due to the view of society. Good girls were not queer. I turned my head and held my cheek. Tasting blood in my mouth, I spit. The saliva mixed with blood and dribbled down my chin, covering my breasts and staining my shredded dress. We both paused and breathed as I tasted the iron from my bloody wound. I whispered, unable to look in her eyes, "It's not meant to be baby." She slapped me again. Needing one pain to replace another, I said, "Hit me. Just hit me." I jutted my chin out in her direction, tempting her to sate her anger with slaps to my face. Looking at her face, I saw her veins beat in her forehead as she screamed, "Lies! You're all lies, you bitch!" "Sochie," I tried to calm her, "you don't understand." But Sochie understood. I understood. I lived my life as a lie. "Fuck you! I love you, you bitch, can't you see? Don't you know? You're mine," she said, and stomped her feet. I saw the true Sochie, the child-orchid trying to bloom. Sochie owned vulnerability, insecurity and a deep seeded fear of rejection within her. I hated myself for perpetuating her insecurity. I wanted her to beat the shit out of me. The young woman shared my tumultuous way of being. "I need you," she begged, clutching my arm tightly. Forcefully, I removed her hand and said in a resigned voice, "You don't understand." Her face reddened and anger surged. "So now you got it, huh? You got your little coed girly ass fuck and you're happy―another notch on your lipstick case. Go brag bitch, go brag, you're about the hundredth ass I've fucked so far this year. I can get anyone, why do I want a fat bitch like you? No one does this to me! No one! You're not even a good piece of ass....fucked better dogs than you. Go fuck your faggot husband." "Stop it, Sochie!" I yelled. It ceased raining. I looked at her, and slowly said, "You don't mean it." "Fuck you!" she shouted, turning and walking off down the alley. She stopped before reaching the street as if waiting for me to come to get her. I didn't. Instead, I went back in my car, sat down, put my head on the steering wheel and slapped my cheeks until my face felt numb, then, and only then, I cried. What the fuck did I do? I loved her and let her go. ******* The following Monday at work, she showed up in my office. Sochie looked horrid, wearing no makeup; her eyes were bloodshot, clothing disheveled, and general demeanor a mess. Coming around my desk to face me with her hands on her hips, she slurred, "Let's go to my house. Fuck everything. C'mon." I looked at her and held back tears. Part of me wanted to go with her and find happiness, but the closeted lesbian took charge, and I said, "No Sochie, I have too much to lose." "Fuck, lose?" she said with anger. "What exactly? This? This life of lies? You choose this over happiness? Over me? Who are you Amber? Who are you going to be? Bitch!" She pushed her face within inches of mine showing a mix of passion and hurt. I said nothing, but smelled the stench of alcohol and vomit on her breath. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave. Tell me you have no feelings for me...what happened on that dance floor...in that alley wasn't love? Tell me!" The room grew silent for a few seconds except for the humming air conditioner. "I can read your epitaph now. The epitaph about the fool you are. "Today, Mrs. Amber Tyson died. She died unfulfilled, never embracing who she really was. Her passing affected no one, because she loved no one. She could not love. Celebrating her death was her husband, who, after fifty years of a sexless marriage could finally leave the toilet seat up. One former student cried, saying something about what should have been, and finishing her prayers by calling her a bitch. Perhaps Amber can rest in peace in heaven, because as God knows, she had none on earth." She waited for me to respond. I did nothing but look away from her. "You stupid bitch...you fool! You're saying that what happened between us was only a lie? Can you say that Amber? Look deep in you. Is THAT what you want? To forever be wondering and wanting what you may have been? What we could be? No one does this to me! Tell me right now that you don't have strong feelings for me...feelings that are more than this so called counselor-student relationship." I still said nothing. "I want you," she cried. Silence. "Badly, no one does this to me," she said and reached for my hand. "No," I said, pulling my hand away. "Follow me Amber," she said in a pleading voice. "One last chance. One. Last. Chance. Let me love and own you, please?" Again, agonizing silence swept through the room. "Amber!" she shouted, slurring the syllables of my name. "No," I said calmly and firmly. She stood upright and looked at me. A few tears rushed down her cheeks. Her chin twitched, and drool trickled from one corner of her mouth. Someone knocked at my door, and I heard Tammy's voice, "Is everything all right?" "Give me a sec," I yelled back. "Sure?" "Yeah, just give us a minute." We were left in silence. Quiet for what seemed a lifetime, she finally spoke in a quivering falsetto, "I can't make you happy. You have to do that for you. I'll hate you if you do this Amber…I'll hate you." She turned around and started for the door. She stopped, and facing away from me, she whispered, "Bitch! No...no, I will always love you." She left, leaving the door to my office wide open. ******* Three years after the Sochie affair, my life reached an unhappy balance—at least my type of balance. Sochie withdrew from school, and no one knew where she went. Everybody knew why. The gossip about the slutty coed and the lesbian dean ran rampant all over the campus, but nonetheless, the rumors couldn't be proven. My career took a hit, and I was moved to the seedier part of town to a satellite campus as a 'promotion'. I knew the administration wanted me out of sight, sound, and mind. Tammy, ever loyal, came with me. I came out as a queer. Jeff and I divorced—a perfectly amiable divorce with neither of us caring any longer. He told me he already had a new fiancé, damn, it was one of my best friends. With utter indifference, I gave the man a hug, told him I didn't blame him, and off I went to my little one bedroom condominium. I started an affair with a teacher at a local high school, a cute African-American femme named Teerza. The comfort of a woman's touch provided satisfaction, and Teerza sweetened my lonely life, making me quasi-happy. She wanted more, but I couldn't give her more. I loved Sochie, often beating myself up silly for letting her walk down that alley alone. Miserable most of the time, I floundered like a fish in a sea of loneliness. She Moves Me Ch. 03 Missing Sochie, I often thought of my stupidity on letting her go. I kept her lime green panties with me in a plastic bag in my purse. They still held her sweet scent. Thoughts of Sochie ruled my fantasies. I desired her firm touch. Yet, I fought these feelings, fought in such a way to deny myself what I craved, which was the power of her control. If she walked in the room at that second, I knew it would take everything in my power to keep from bending to my knees and begging her to forgive me. For as much as submission twisted my psyche, I still needed it like an addict needing a drug. I needed her way of love. Her power combined with tenderness and vulnerability. Three weeks into the summer term, Tammy came in my office on a sticky June afternoon and sat down. "How are you?" she asked. "Fair. You?" "Mark's been good. Stopped drinking." "I hope it works out Tammy, but I haven't seen men just stop drinking completely. I'm still afraid it's going to happen again." "No...really," she said with a forced smile, "he's been great, three years straight now. I think he's going to propose." Her skirt rode up her thighs; she pulled the hem and wriggled it back down. Tammy's beauty took my breath away at inopportune moments, and I did stare a little. She caught me looking and blushed. There was a small pause. "You know I'm miserable, don't you?" I asked. "It's sorta obvious, Amber." "It's her." "I know." "I fucked up." "You did." I looked up at her. "You want someone to feel sorry for you? Or do you want the truth?" she asked. It became quiet again. "Are you ever going to look for her?" "No, she hates me." "I don't think so. You are a fool if you don't try." "It just wasn't to be, Tammy...it's too late." "Yeah, I suppose it is. Who knows where she is." She paused. "Looks like you've already given up anyway...must be awful to give up on happiness." There was a long pause. My chin quivered. "Do you love her?" she asked. I looked at her. She looked back, questioning. I nodded, put my face in my hands and cried. She handed me a tissue and tried to ease the tension. "Mark's going out with the guys, Maeve's tonight?" Staying away from Maeve's because of the sad memories, I seriously considered venturing back to the place. "C'mon, I'm no Sochie or Teerza, but I ain't half bad," she teased. "You're gorgeous, Tammy," I mumbled without thinking. She flushed, and I noticed something strange. Attraction? For me? Naw, couldn't be. I never thought of Tammy as attracted to females, so I dismissed the thought. "Okay, meet ya there," I said while wiping my tears away. "First drink's on me this time. And fix your makeup woman. I can't be seen in public with a messy girl." she said with a wicked smile. I laughed, and we hugged. "Make mine a shot of Cuervo Gold," "You're going to drink straight Tequila?" she asked pulling away. "You'll get drunk." "That's the plan. Then maybe I'll let someone pick me up." "Later," she said smiling. I hoped her smile meant she intended to do the picking. ******* Arriving at the bar, I looked for Tammy. Eventually, I found her sitting with a light-skinned Asian around my age at a secluded table. I thought not to disturb the couple, but she spied me and waved me over. As Erykah Badu sang NeoSoul, I walked toward the two and noticed how closely they sat. When I approached, Tammy stood, kissed me on the cheek, and whispered, "It just happened." I whispered back, "Happy for you." She pulled back and looked at me with a grin. I nodded and quietly commented, "I thought maybe you liked girls…you devil. Holding out on me all this time?" With warm feelings of kinship, we both laughed. "Well, I just wasn't sure," she said. "After this long?" "Just scared. But you coming out …," she trailed off. I nodded, understanding her meaning. She glanced at me, and then to her new friend, "Jin Lee, this beauty is my boss, Amber," she said while pointing her chin back at me. I shook Jin Lee's hand while staring at lily-white perfectly manicured nails. "Jin Lee's a massage therapist and manicurist," Tammy said. "She promised to give me a discount at her salon." Sitting down by her friend, Tammy beamed like a teenager. Jin Lee spoke with a deep Asian accent, "Give you too." "Thanks," I said, "why you're as pretty as a doll." She winked at me, quickly turning back to Tammy; the two started making eyes at each other and holding hands. "Well, I can tell when I'm not wanted," I said, causing the two women to turn back to me while giggling. "Sorry," said Tammy. "We just met...kinda hit it off. Sit down." Before I could sit, I felt a familiar presence behind me, and heard that voice, "Coffee?" I knew the voice immediately, looking down to the ground, I whispered, "Sochie." "Amber," she replied and lightly touched my arm. Still not turning, I asked, "You...you don't hate me?" "I wish I could...tried to hate you, but couldn't." Moving close behind me, she spoke softly in my ear, "Sit with me. I have a table." Tammy commented, "You better go, I can't put up with you being Eyeore any longer...had a hard enough time finding her for you." I looked at her questioning, and then it finally sunk in. I said, "Oh, Tammy." "Go!" she said and smiled. "I'm ready to be left alone." Her words broke the ice, and all of us laughed. Then I turned and viewed my Sochie, who still caused the hairs on my neck to stand at attention. Time stood still as I wavered dizzily, imbued by the beauty of my former student. She owned some worry lines on her face, sported a nice tan, and weighed a few pounds more. After all this time, I felt lost in her presence. The way she looked at me told me she felt the same. With no words needed, we held hands while walking to a secluded table for two holding one shot of Cuervo Gold along with a dozen long-stemmed roses. "For you," she said. "I no longer drink." We sat at the small table across from each other. I looked at her unable to stop crying. No longer a young girl, she had sprouted into an amazing example of femininity. She didn't say a word, moved her chair next to mine, hugged me, and started crying. After some teary moments, we laughed at each other. I said, "I'm a mess….really…I fucked up." "Yes," she said directly. I felt the stab of her single syllable, and said, "I deserved the comment, Sochie. I've been miserable—an idiot. I've never stopped thinking about you….thought you were gone…lost hope." She looked at me angrily, and said, "You're so stupid, Amber. I should hate you for what you did to me. I'm not used to rejection. I'm used to getting my way. I started doing drugs, drinking, cocaine, even heroin, had all kinds of sex…really messed up. Went to rehab for two months, a card-carrying member of A. A….clean for a year now. But I'm always so tempted…will be now forever." "I'm sorry, was it my entire fault?" I asked while looking at the pain in her young eyes. "You were tough for me, but I can't blame you for all of it. Obviously, I had my own issues. Part of it involved confronting the Aunt who seduced me. She harmed me with her molestation more than I ever realized. Confrontation done...at least the first part is resolved." She paused. "Amber," she said, and looked at me, "I was, and still am in some ways, emotionally immature..." "I understand more than you might think, Sochie." "Yes. I suppose you do. You know what I am, what I like. Can you accept what I am; how I want you? How I like sex?" "I looked away from her, willing to do whatever she wanted. I didn't care as long as I had her. "I'll take you however you want me. I love you." Reaching into my purse, I pulled out her panties and held them up to her. She took them, looked at me momentarily, and asked, "You kept them?" I nodded. From her purse, she pulled out a white pair of lacy panties. "I went back to get them from the alley, they still held your smell. I'll never stop loving you, Amber. I never could, you have been the only one ever since I first met you. Only you. All others were just sex—fun, but just sex." There was a long pause. We said nothing, but said everything. Pain? Yes, pain coupled with forgiveness. We loved, despite love's unseemly journey. "And now let's resolve the second issue," I said, while squeezing her hands. "Yes, fuck coffee," she said with her strong voice, the mix between forceful and kind. I loved her voice, and knew from this day forth, she owned my heart. "Long overdue. Yes…let's go, and don't forget your roses and drink….need to soften you up. I'll take good care of you and love you the way you deserve. Yes, the sex will be as I like it, but you will be worshipped my dear. Worshipped and pleased." We smiled at each other; I picked up my roses, took my shot and poured it out on the floor. Smirking, I said, "I don't want to tempt you with the taste of liquor in a few minutes. Will my condominium be okay?" She nodded, and asked, "This time, no sudden stops along the way?" "Only the kind that last forever," I said, and kissed her. She looked at me with such want I shivered, "Forever, Dean?" I looked down, and said. "Forever...student." We walked off, oblivious to everything but the sweet touch of two hearts entangled as one. ***** Epilogue She Moves Me She sleeps, legs spread before me, pink lips subtly swollen, slick, moist ... generous with our love's morning dew, still dreaming of our nightly joy. She dreams of our love, her lips quietly forming my name, pursing, moaning, kissing me in her sleep. She breathes― her breasts rise before me, full of milk, slowly beating with the erotic pulse of life, thick, firm, and tempting, glowing with a mother's love. Our baby cries. My love slowly stirs before me. Rising nude, with the slight weight of her pregnancy on her belly, rubbing her temples, moving quietly, then holding, cooing, kissing. I move behind her, caressing her nipple and offering it to our baby; the life force flows— the force I devoured the night before, so wanting of my wife's love, as hungry as our child, as needing as our infant when she suckles, our precious little girl, our dream, our joy, our gift that drinks so greedily, biting with the engaging pain of love. I nuzzle to my wife, kissing the spot she loves, holding her breast to our child's mouth, loving her, loving them. My fingers finding my wife's moist opening, my thoughts relishing our night of love. "Not now, my wife," she whispers, with voice sweet as honey, her nectar belying her words, filling me so completely, I want to burst with happiness― our bliss that will never end. "Okay," I whisper back, and we kiss. It is a gentle kiss, yet full of our passion, the love that is ours―of the three of us. Our baby is only the beginning of the completion, her siblings will complete our joy, sate our need, create our family, enable our legacy. Our child smiles, burps, gurgles happily, contented. I sigh; they move me so. Oh, how they move me, filling my heart, my life. My wife smiles thoughtfully, breathes contentedly― she moves me. The End ****** If you made it this far, thank you.