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Pretty Lin

By: humminbean



I could barely sit still - that steamy scene in the romance novel had me so excited that even the cushion under me seemed like an intimate caress.

Lin and I had been doing sleepovers since before we had breasts. (She's reading over my shoulder and just said "I still don't," looking down her chest with a fake pout. Trust me, she does.) Last thing at night, once we were mostly talked out, we'd just read for a while. We're in college now, an easy bus ride away from each other, and still visit on weekends. The reading habit hasn't changed. What we read has grown up, though. Lin has been introducing me to a different kind of romance novel, the kind with some very sexy love scenes. Each time I visit, they seemed to get sexier. This one beat them all, though, and the room seemed to get hotter with each new scene I read.

"Lin," I asked, "have you read this one yet?" I showed her the cover.

"Oh, yes!" She had to restrain herself from laughing, or so I thought. "Is that the scene in the bathtub?"

"My god yes." I'd tried a few of those things, when I was alone, but had never even imagined half of them. 

"Has she gotten to the candle yet?"

"Uhh, no." The clue teased me, but hardly counted as a spoiler.

"It gets better." 

A few minutes, Lady Margrave half-rose from her scented bath, reached her elegant arm across the page of my trashy little novel to remove the candle from its holder, and pinched it out. The scene went on, page after page, using the most elegant and delicate language to describe the Lady's arousal and repeated peaks at her own touch - and the candle's. I felt myself flush and my breathing get ragged, more so with each of the Lady's tremors. Then, when the candle entered her from behind, my hips squirmed involuntarily and my bottom clenched. Guilt made me up to see whether Lin had noticed my response to this incredibly arousing passage. I would have been shocked and embarrassed to be seen as turned on as I was.

Instead, I was shocked and embarrassed to see Lin's hand moving under her white cotton panty. 

"What are you doing?" I blurted it out before even thinking, and surprised myself at how shrill I sounded. 

"Playing with myself, you silly. Don't you do it?"

"Well, yes." Well, no, really, but I didn't want to sound immature in front of my best friend. This was way into those areas I never liked talking about.

"I can't help myself when the story gets this hot, I just find my hand there on its own. Sometimes I even get my own orgasm just when the heroine does, too. Have you ever done that?"

"Uhh, I think so." I still wasn't sure what an orgasm was, despite the number I had read about in those pink-jacketed novels.

Lin laughed. "Oh, you'd know. Believe me, you'd know."

"Can you show me?" 

Lin gave me with an odd, serious look for a moment, her hand still inside her underwear. 

Oh my god. I couldn't believe what I had just said. I started to cover my mouth and had an apology half-formed. I was about to speak when Lin smiled and spoke. "OK. Come up here." She patted the bed next to her.

She rolled back, skinned the undies off in a two-handed motion, and lay up against the pile of pillows. Her thighs splayed wide with her knees up a little, showing me that warm crevice surrounded by wispy dark hair. My stomach fluttered, excited but with a little queasy nervousness as I climbed up, closer to her most intimate parts. My nerves won out when her fingers started working downward into the private, pink folds. Instead of staring into the opening petals of her vulva, I crawled up next to her. To tell the truth, I found her openness intimidating.

Her gaze never left my eyes. I lay down beside her, my head at the level of her shoulders, and I shied from her intense expression. My eyes roamed down across her t-shirt, where I could see her nipples poking up against the cloth like two buttons. Even that felt guilty, so I looked farther down. The t-shirt's hem bunched high on her waist, above her navel. I continued looking downwards, where her arm joined the muscled curves of her tummy on its way to her pubis. My gaze stopped at her fingers, framed between tawny thighs, tracing gentle circles just out of sight, past her mons. 

It fascinated me - I could barely move. I just stared at the delicate motions of her hand, her fingers hidden by the curve of her body. Sensing my tension, Lin reached up behind me with her other hand and stroked the back of my head. That made it easier for me, a physical kind of welcome that I responded to at an unconscious level.

At first, Lin's hand cupped her pubis. I reached down and touched the back of her hand as lightly as I could. I didn't want to interfere in any way, but I needed to know what she was doing, down where I couldn't see. Her hand lay flat across her labia, pressing with wide, slow strokes. Sometimes I felt her hand shift side to side, other time I felt her fingers press against that deep soft place between her legs. My hand over hers, I followed along with each motion. She continued stroking my hair, sometimes tracing the curve of my ear, and I lay my head against her chest.

I almost jumped back again when I realized that my cheek was lying on her breast. A little gentle pressure from her hand held me in place until I settled, then went back to stroking my ear. 

The view held me mesmerized. Her legs shifted occasionally as her hand and mine continued the slow massage. Then, once in a while, her hip would press down against the mattress, then relax again. Her thigh would flex, showing smooth definition when that happened. Muscles across her tummy would tighten, too, then smooth themselves. These moments of tension came when the hand between her legs stirred to sudden motion, then pass when her hand went back to its slow and steady rhythm.

My head cradled on her breast's softness, I could hear her breathing deepen. It turned uneven each time tension appeared in her hips and legs, then soften again. Those fast motions of her hand came more frequently, and her hips and tummy flexed more strongly. I could feel my own hips rocking against hers, too. I would have had my own hand between my legs, but I didn't dare let go of Lin's hand working her pubis. There was too much to know. 

Her hand seemed to lift off her labia, still cupping them from an inch away. Instead, one slim finger reached down into the top of her crevice, just where the valley started to form. My hand over hers, one of my fingers followed. Her hips rocked in a steady rhythm now and her legs straightened out, all the way down to pointed toes . That finger between her labia moved quickly and lightly, in an uneven pace. Her sleek body tightened with the finger's quicker circling, then caught its breath when the tiny motion slowed.

Her breathing came raggedly, mixed with little half-moans. Pulses of tension coursed through her. Each lasted a moment longer than the one before, and the intervals between them shortened. Something lovely started to happen in her tummy, where cords of muscle rose from her chest downwards, sank, and rose again. I turned my head just a little, felt around with my lips, and grabbed a t-shirt covered nipple. 

The moment I latched on, Lin nearly crushed my head against her tiny breast. One final waved of tension grabbed her, and didn't let go this time. The fingertip between her labia kept a constant, petite frenzy; tension radiating up and down from her hips grabbed her and held her. Her whole torso throbbed with feminine strength, again and again, to breathy groans like nothing I had ever heard before. That tiny fingertip dance ran on and on at a furious pace. Then her delicate digit slowed and stopped. Her hand cupped between her legs again. It took her body a moment to realize that the stimulation had stopped. She seemed to relax by steps, unwinding, tensing again, and unwinding further. Her chest slumped against the bed under me, and her entire body came to a stop. I looked up at her face, for the first time, and saw a glorious, distant smile. Her head turned down towards me, her hand still stroking the hair behind my ear. I reached up to stoke her cheek. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

"Lin ..." She smiled at her name. "Do me."

"What?" The lazy smile turned to grin. 

"Could you do me? What you just did, could you do it to me?"

She tugged my shoulder up til our faces were even. My deep, heavy breasts slid across her sleeker ones, and she pressed our breasts against each other with a long hug. I didn't even flinch when she kissed me - more than a girl-peck, but not nearly as much as I wanted. Then she rolled me over and lay on top of me. 

"Yes." Somehow, that little word carried huge meanings, some of them just out of sight. Her smile glowed even more warmly as she her hair dangled down into my face. 

I expected her hands to start the same dance that I had just seen. Instead, she kept leaning over me, gazing down at me. Her caress started to roam my body along trails that had never been explored before. She lifted my breast,cupping it from the side, and massaged it gently through my top. When her thumb crossed my stiffened areola, she stopped and scissored it gently between her fingers. I blinked at the touch, and curled a little against her. Lin's hands kept moving, though. She crossed my tummy, then slid across my cotton-covered mound. I expected her touch to stay there, but it moved on down my thigh. 

My body understood what Lin was doing, even if my mind was still puzzled. Long, lazy strokes from shoulder to thigh relaxed me, and eased my nervousness about this new way to be close to someone. After a while, massaging my inner thighs opened them, preparing me to receive her intimacies. Occasional pressure on my mons and outer labia made me eager for more. 

Lin noticed my hand crossing my own panty, and saw my shoulders lifting so I could hold her more closely. At that point, she sat back on the bed next to me and reached across. She hooked her fingers at the waist of my underwear and started tugging down. I lifted my hips and she slid the cloth to my knees; I sat back down, lifted both feet, and she had it off me. Then she crossed her arms to her own waist, took the edge of her t-shirt in both hands, peeled it off in one move, and came back to me.

She leaned down to kiss my breast again, and I lifted my shirt to feel her skin on mine. At the same time, out of sight, a small warm hand cupped my vulva. On their own, my legs separated to welcome that caress. After a warm moment just holding, I felt little circles of fingertip pressure against the outer lips. The point of contact moved every few seconds, up one side, across the top, and down the other side. That spot of firm warmth seemed to cover every part, from the crease at my thigh to the fold where the lips closed against each other. Her other hand reached up to my face, brushing a wisp of hair, tracing my lip, or following the curve of my eye.

I was lost in some warm place with no words. I felt unable to move, even though my hips, legs, and hands each did what they needed to to. I focused inward on unfamiliar feelings - my labia filling and thickening, for example, and something small and eager starting to quiver low in my tummy. My inner lips felt a tiny line of Lin's caress. She hadn't opened me to reach those folds, they had swollen so much that they peeked out between the outer labia, begging for attention of their own.

A scent in the air told me I was oozing from inside. Some little voice inside wanted to hide that, feeling that no one should see me wet. Other voices inside huddled around that little one, letting her know that it's OK, that Lin would understand. Lin certainly did. For the first time, I felt her stroke the crevice between my labia, opening them without penetrating. She lifted her hand and looked at it, brought it to her mouth and tasted it, then smiled. She gave me a happy glance, then mouth and hand returned to my breast and vulva with new energy. 

I felt a new exploration start between my full, fat labia. A small, cool fingertip worked in just a fraction, and explored the full length without going any deeper. When that shallow probe reached low between my legs, it paused. Lin had found my dampness. It gathered on her touch, and she spread it around. That touch took on a buttery smoothness as she worked my moisture into the hidden folds. Then, scooping deeper than before, she seemed to collect a fingerful of that slippery dew. In a moment, a finger and thumb spread me open while that moistened finger found my clitoris.

I nearly jumped. Lin's kiss pressed into my breast, her hand on my face gentled me, and the touch too much stopped where it was. My startle passed, but that doesn't mean I relaxed. My body tightened with an all-over tension I had never felt before, but that seemed as right as sunlight. Once I calmed, I felt Lin's exploration begin in earnest. Light, careful caresses slid between the folds, mapping out the genital shapes that I barely knew, even in myself. Some touches did much too much, and I quivered. Others did little, other than leaving me loved and appreciated in mysterious ways. Soon, Lin had learned what she needed to know, and my seduction moved to the net level.

She licked her fingers to give a thick layer of slickness, then returned her hand to my unfulfilled excitement. One tiny touch, as I had seen her give herself, entered the keyhole curve near the top, where my labia became two separate folds. I felt contact with my hardened clitoris, way back away from the tip - Lin seemed to know that if she touched that tip, I would have been on the ceiling. Instead, I learned how she had touched herself, the soft ball of a fingertip pressing against that tiny, hidden shaft. I knew all the other ways her body kept contact with mine, but my whole awareness shrank to that one point.

Slow, delicate motions pushed that sensitive fold back and forth, side to side. Each time it slid under her fingertip, a bubble of excitement popped somewhere inside me. Something bigger was growing, too, like an ocean wave building under ocean foam. As it grew, it took control of my hips. It pushed them down into the mattress, and Lin's hand followed. It parted my legs to open me more, and Lin's touch deepened. I had no idea what that huge thing was, wakening inside me, but Lin seemed to be in silent communion with it.

The pace of that tiny touch changed as my body responded. Along with the gentle caress, Lin offered firm, two-finger pressure against my clitoris's solid bed, and I sighed. She gave me fluttery bursts of delicate speed and I moaned. She slid to the sparkling tip, and I trembled. Thinking back, I'm startled that she knew me so much better than I knew myself, at least back then. She showed it with her loving invocation of that huge, slumbering feeling that I didn't know I had in me.

Bit by bit, Lin awoke it, and it embraced me from within. It offered my breasts to Lin's lips and teeth. It held my legs open to Lin's affections, and held the muscles taut. It threw my head back into the the pillow, and drew purrs and moans from my throat. It responded ever more strongly to the silent language in which Lin spoke to it, seduced it. It lit my whole body in ways I had never felt before. And it kept growing within me, starting to take me over completely.

Quite abruptly, I had to stop. It had grown too big, too fast, too out of control, and started to scare me. I pressed Lin's hand hard against my pubis, stopping the sign-language spell she was casting. My other arm clutched her head tightly against my wide, soft breast. My body curled nearly in half and I trembled. "Too much, too much. Please, just hold, it's too much." 

Lin stopped. Every touch came to a halt where it was, pressing hard, the way you do to stop a touch from tickling. She looked up at me. I quivered, cradling her head in my hand. "Please, it's too much." 

She responded, "OK. It's OK." Gradually, and with even more care than she had started, she withdrew. Pressure lightened, touch shrank and vanished, and her embrace turned to a sisterly hug. I rolled away from her, but not far. She snuggled up behind me, so my bare bottom pressed her bare lap, even though I still had my shirt on. Lin turned out the light, adjusted the covers, and reached around to my breast. Cuddled like kittens, I felt her relax into sleep. I was still too wound up, trying to understand what had just happened. Soon, I slept too.

-------

I awoke some time in the night. Lin still lay next to me, one of her legs across mine and one of her hands on my breast. I just stared at the dark ceiling for a moment, enjoying the unfamiliar, cuddly warmth of someone sleeping next to me. Then it came back to me, a flashback of that huge feeling Lin had stirred. I could barely believe that I had that in me, something so strange and alien in this body I'd known all my life. I thought about how that feeling had built, tying my emotions and body together into one huge sensation. Gradually, I realized that it hadn't finished with me. I wanted that scary-sweet feeling again and, with some trepidation, I needed to know how it would end - I didn't just want that, I needed it. 

I held Lin's hand on my breast for a little while. As I thought about what Lin had lit up in me, and what she had almost lit, my nipple tightened under her hand and a kind of hunger grew between my legs. I shifted Lin's arm so I could face towards her, and wrapped my arm around her slim, curvy waist. I felt how her back curved toward me, then swelled into that smooth, womanly hip and bottom. She felt wonderful to me. Trying not to wake her, I pressed as much of my body as I could against hers. My leg slid easily into the warmth between hers.

She made some sleepy noise and shifted toward me. I whispered, "Lin?"

"Hmm?" Her sleep-limp hug pressed me a fraction closer.

"Could we try again?"

"Whah -" Not so sleepy this time.

"I really liked what you did. Could you do more? Please?"

She didn't answer, not in words, but her embrace started to awaken around me. She cradled my head from behind and kissed me again, and I felt the warm softness of breast and body against mine. Still on her side, one of her legs rose between mine and pressed. At the same time, her hand slid down my back to cup my bottom, and she pulled me close. I pushed my vulva hard against her thigh and rocked on it, riding her with instinctive motions. My arm around her moved lower on her back, to the fullest part of her behind, and pulled close.

An involuntary little moan of frustration came out of my throat when she pushed me onto my back. That passed, though, the moment her kiss found my breast again and her fingers snaked back into my pubic hair. She probed for a moment, examining every private crevice by touch. "Ooh, you really are ready," she cooed. I knew that - I knew that I wanted to feel her excite me again.

Her loving caresses skipped over all steps she had started with before, and began with a long slow slide across my vagina. I felt myself twitch inside, expecting and hoping to feel a deeper pressure there. Instead, she just pulled the slickness from inside me and used it as balm across my inner folds. She did that a few times, pulling scented liquid from inside, until every touch slid with silky smoothness. Then two fingertips pressed against my clitoris again, and fired my responses. 

That sense of building returned quickly, even faster now that I knew I wanted it. It grew fast to the point where I had shied before, and moved forward on its unknown course. With it came waves of tension; each seemed to radiate out from the point where Lin touched me, to hold me for a moment, and to leaved me limp and waiting for the next. Each wave seemed bigger than the one before and longer, and gave me less chance to recover before the next attacked me again. I almost asked her to stop. "Lin ..."


Pretty Lin Ch. 02



Chapter 2: A Morning Story

We cuddled in a happy knot, dozing warmly together, until the sky started to lighten outside. Micca - she hates 'Michaela' - leaned up on one elbow, looking down at me, and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. She took my hand from between her legs and pressed it to her lips, then to mine. The salty sweetness on my fingers and the scent of sex started turning me on all over again. I reached up and pulled her head down to mine, for a long soft kiss.

"Lin, if we don't get going now, I might never let go," Micca said.

"And the problem would be ...?"

"Coffee." 

"Of course. I'll get it going."

I pulled that oversized T-shirt on, rounded up all the stray underwear, and threw it in the laundry basket. (This studio apartment doesn't let me make two messes at a time.) The kitchenette was only a few steps more, and I had the water heating in a moment. I found watermelon in the fridge, that would do for now. The microwaved dinged while I was cutting the melon, so I poured hot water into the French press, drowning a thick layer of ground coffee. I pressed the plunger half way down, then back up again to get the air out of the grounds, and went back to cutting melon. By the time I had finished with the melon and gotten the tray set up for eating, the coffee was about done. I pressed the plunger home and poured two big mugs - we both like it back. This was our breakfast in bed. 

Micca was looking at me as I brought the tray over. In fact, she had been sort of staring at me the whole time I was putting the food together. Lying on her side, head propped up on one hand, her tapered waist and round hip showed their curves beautifully. I set the tray on the bed, then sat cross-legged beside her. She sat up, adjusted a pillow as backrest, and leaned against the wall. I passed her a mug. Then, instead of giving her a bowl, I speared a pink chunk and offered it to her. She leaned forward and ate it from the fork, with that cute, shy smile.

After that, I set the fork aside. I popped a piece into my own mouth, then picked one up and offered it to her. She took it again, along with the tips of my finger and thumb. When I drew them away, she followed, and licked a drop of juice from each. 

We both felt the glow from making love earlier, and enjoyed a happy moment without words. She held her mug in both hands, and I fed us both chunks of sweet melon. Sometimes, I would stroke her cheek or forehead before pulling my hand away. Then I teased a little, making her lean forward to get the next piece. When she leaned forward enough, her soft, heavy breasts swung away from her body. 

Next time, I picked the biggest piece of melon, too much for one mouthful. When she leaned forward to bite into it, my other hand rose up under swaying breast and held. She looked up at me, smiled, and closed her eyes - but didn't lean back. Instead, she munched quietly, then opened her mouth for another bite. That baby-bird trust and vulnerability melted me. My hand cupped the pendant breast as I fed her, and my thumb stroked the side of it. The next bite of melon was last, so I popped it into her mouth, then let my fingertip linger so her lips closed around it. 

She opened her eyes with a liquid, happy look on her face, and nibbled her lower lip. Then she held her own hand against the one I had under her breast. She closed her eyes again, leaned up toward me, and parted her lips - the "kiss me" pose that no one can resist. I accepted, still holding her, just the tips of lips at first. I touched all around her mouth with mine, then pulled her lip between mine. Her pink tongue slid out and moistened my my mouth, then we touched in slippery warmth. 

This slow, gentle exploration was nothing like tongue-wrestling with a boy, so we let it go on. Micca's eyes opened then, and she leaned back with a smile. Her breast slid out of my hand as she did. She crossed her arms under those soft swells, lifting them, and asked, "Well, are we going running or not?"

"Let's go." I picked up the tray, and we both headed toward the kitchenette. The bathroom was right next to it, and that's where she was going. Her T-shirt didn't cover her bottom, it just bunched at the waist. The view from behind made me want to grab her again. Instead, I put the dishes in the sink, put the tray away, and started to change. 

I heard the toilet flush and the sink run for a moment, then Micca came out. The T-shirt covered her this time, just barely, and she leaned over her clothes bag. The shirt rode up to show her bottom again, and I marveled at the grace and strength of that round curve. I also marveled at that dark place, just a bit wider than the rest of the crevice, at the top of her thighs. Facing away from me, she pulled on panties and shorts, then her new sport bra. 

That step is no big deal for me - mine is not much more than a snug tube top with shoulder straps. She had to put hers on over her shoulders, lean down to enclose each heavy breast just so, do up way too many eyelets on the front closure, and adjust everything again. Socks and running shoes, then we were off.

The sun was well up, but the air still cool. That made running comfortable, but every guy we passed stared at our chests. (Well, hers mostly, but the slight chill meant I had a little something for the oglers, too.) This new bra really worked for her. Once it was on, she didn't have to tug at it like she did with the other ones, or keep her arms crossed in front. It really held her bust to a gentle bounce. She told me where she got it and what it cost. My bras are little stringy things, when I bother, and I never paid even a third of that for one. (Well, I paid it once for a bra that promised even I would have cleavage. It lied. Only Photoshop could do that for me.) I knew how uncomfortable running could be for her, though, so I figured the price was worth it. 

After about forty minutes, we slowed our pace to cool down. We both felt happily stretched and relaxed by the time we got home. When we got in, Micca asked, "Do you want first shower."

"Yes," I answered. "Soap my back?"

She looked blank for a moment, then realized what I was asking. "Of course!"

We almost raced undressing. I made it into the bathroom first, but stopped to collect towels and washcloths. She stepped into the bathtub and started the water. I pulled the curtain when I got in, and felt warm water around my feet. She switched the faucet to shower, and the warm water streamed over us. 

"Let wash your hair," I asked. She stood under the water to wet her hair while I poured a little shampoo into my hands. The she slid by me, away from the shower head, and stood with her back to me. I started massaging her scalp.

It was really just an excuse for touch. I had been getting mixed messages from her body language, despite our intimacy last night: shy/bold, eager/nervous, fascinated/scared. Micca had been a friend for so long that I didn't this new experience to cause problems -- I wanted her completely happy with this new part of our friendship. Her head seemed like a safe place to start. It didn't take long to lather her short hair, but I drew it out for fun. Then I let go of her for a moment, soaped my hands and started on her shoulders.

Micca relaxed into it, leaning against the tiled wall. I worked her shoulders and back, then continued down. She tensed for a moment when I got to the wide muscle at the back of her hip, then relaxed again. I moved on quickly and down her leg. Her thighs normally touch each other, but she stood wide so I could soap in between, and worked down to her feet. Then I switched to the other leg, and lathered my way back up. I spent extra time on the thigh, especially the inside. When I got to the top inside, I barely touched her furry softness with my thumb. She shivered when I did, but flexed her legs wider. I moved up her bottom, and touched that sensitive spot deep between her cheeks. She clenched for a moment, but my slick hands continued up her back. 

I stood up when I got toward her waist, and my hands started around to her front. Up, under her arms, I felt the swell of her breast, starting much farther back than I expected. She still leaned forward, onto the tile wall, and gave quiet "mmm" sounds. My hands worked forward, one under each breast, and I cupped them.

Their heaviness surprised me. I had felt their softness last night, but didn't realize how much substance lay behind that rose-petal delicacy. I shifted my hands so my thumbs stroked the areolas, and leaned close against her from behind. She gave a dreamy sound and tilted her bottom against my lap. I held her close for a moment, then reached for the shower sprayer. I rinsed her hair, then took a lot more time than I needed to in wiping the soap from her back. I finished by turning the warm spray upward, behind and between her legs, cleaning her like a baby. 

"Could you turn around?" She stood and turned toward me, arms a little out from her side, legs apart. 'Here I am,' her body seemed to say, 'for whatever you want.' I started safely again, washing one arm from hand to shoulder, watching out for the armpit tickle spot, then doing the other arm. Then I knelt to wash her feet, and worked my way up the front of each leg in turn. I stood then, and looked into her eyes. She gazed back steadily, with an easy smile. I skipped her lower body, and lifted one of her breasts in both my hands. 

I savored that lovely weight, feeling somehow responsible for it while it was in my care, and examined it as I had never had a chance to before. I was amazed. I had never noticed that delicate tracery of blue veins under her milky, pale skin. I envied the fragile beauty of that blue lacework - it doesn't show through my skin tone. I lifted the breast she had entrusted to me, and massaged soap all over the top and bottom, then did the other. I used the sprayer to rinse each one, and lifted them to rinse under.

Then I lifted one breast again, cradled it in both hands, and leaned down to kiss it. I worked all across its upper side, feeling its gentle resilience against my face. I looked up to her smile again, set it gently down, and lifted the other. I kissed that too, down to a wide wet kiss across her smooth areola. Warmth had smoothed the nipple, but my lips teased it back up. When I had kissed it all, I set that one down, too.

I soaped my hands again, then started on her pubic hair. One hand held her bottom, pulling her close to me. I worked the soap all over, as I had done on her head, pressing in circles with my fingertips. She shifted one foot, then the other, to open the way down and between her legs, and I massaged lower. 

Micca kept her open stance and steady contact with my eyes, but her eyes started to flutter. I found the split between her labia, and ran my finger along it - not in, but the whole length of it. She bit her lower lip, but kept her open, trusting gaze. I reached low then up, with just one finger. It slid easily between her labia, because of the soap. 

"You said this is mine, didn't you?"

She gazed at me levelly. The smile stayed, but changed from a distant dream to something much more alert and immediate.

"Yes, Lin, it's yours." Her arms still stood away from her sides. I saw a little tremor in them as my fingertip worked deeper between her labia. I found that tight muscle at her body's entrance, and pressed against it. I circled the soft depth, pressing against its guardian gate of muscle, working slowly inward. After a few minutes of slow approach, the whole first segment of my finger felt the grasp of that outer ring.

"Micca, I want to feel you come again. From inside. You have no idea how wonderful it is to feel your orgasm from inside. Can you do that for me?"

Micca's happy expression faltered, then came back even stronger. "Yes, Lin. It's yours." With that, one hand dropped to her pubis, and the other toyed with a thickening nipple. I felt her probe herself blindly, since her eyes continued to hold mine. Her hand moved uncertainly for a few minutes, and she shifted from one foot to the other. "I don't think I can, standing up. Is it OK if we lie down?"

"Of course," I answered, not sure how to handle that obedient trust. "But I have to get clean, too."

"May I?" She sounded like a little girl promised a new toy.

"Please." I stood as she had, arms and legs spread so she could was every part of me. She started, as I had, by washing my hair. Mine is a lot longer than hers and very thick, so I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the feel of her kneading the lather into it. Then she rinse the shampoo out, worked the cream rinse in, and left that to sit while the rest of me got her attention.

First, she turn me around and massaged soap into my shoulders and back. She sort of skipped my bottom, then did my legs in long, strong strokes. She turned me to face her again, and started on my legs. Then she stood and soaped my shoulders. Instead of staring into my face, her attention had locked onto my breasts. She approached them slowly and cautiously, unsure how to proceed for some reason. I made happy noises as she massaged the sides, and pulled my arms back and pushed my chest out to encourage her. Finally, she cupped one of the little things in each hand, and scissored each nipple at the "V" near her thumb. She looked into my eyes again, and said, "God, I wish I had breasts like yours." She massaged them for a moment longer, my nipples poking the center of her hands.

Then she reached down between my legs. She looked down as she soaped my pubic hair, not looking at what she was doing but looking away from my eyes. Much too soon, she reached for the sprayer and rinsed me nervously. I just didn't get it. I couldn't wait to feel her hand on my sex, exploring as I had explored her, but she shied. What could I do to get her to touch me? I toyed with my pubic hair while she rinsed and thought.

"Micca, would you shave me?"

"What?" almost a yelp. "You mean, down there?"

"Yes, I want to know what it looks like, what it feels like. Would you do it for me?"

"Well, OK." Hesitance and determination fought. Determination won. 

"You're the best friend ever." I wanted to encourage her any way I could. "Let me get a fresh razor." I dripped all over the bathroom getting a new disposable and the liquid soap, then stepped back into the shower. I leaned against the rear wall, cold against the tile, and grabbed the shower's towel bar for balance I set one foot up on the edge of the tub, and said, "You'll be careful, right?"

She didn't answer, but was already on her knees in front of me. Once she decided she was in, her attention focused entirely on the job at hand. She worked up a light lather, massaging the soap into my pubic hair. That gentle stimulation had me quivering inside. Then popped the cover off the razor. Starting at the top, she worked her way carefully downward. 

The first part was easy, low on my tummy and out toward my thighs. Micca slowed as she worked toward my crevice, working in short, careful strokes. After a while, she had to handle me to get all the hidden spots. Cautious at first, she gently stretched one of my labia to the side, to get in near the thigh, then spread it carefully open to get the fuzz just inside the fold. Her touch became bolder on the other side, but no less careful, then she went back up to spots she had avoided earlier. I felt myself twitching inside, I was so excited. Still, I didn't want to challenge her new sureness. 

She felt low and back, between my legs, to find the spots toward the back that needed it. I nearly laughed out loud, watching her turn almost upside down to look up at what she was doing. Then she went back to the top, to the part just where it folds inwards, to get the few bits of fuzz just inside the fold. Thumb and finger of one hand opened me while the other cautiously harvested the last of my little crop of hair. I wanted that moment to go on - just a few moments more, and my orgasm would have poured into her hands.

Micca checked her work, stroking every part with her fingertips, over and over. Up the outer lip, down its inner edge, up the other side, and down toward my thigh again. She seemed not to notice how ragged my breathing had become. She stood to switch the sprayer on, then kneeled again and directed the warm water up between my legs. She rinsed carefully until ever trace of soapy slickness was gone. She took care with the inner folds, too, then worked down low. I could feel myself tensing under her touch - and she seemed to have no idea.

Then she touched that deep point and I arched. "Micca, that slippery bit isn't soap." She startled and almost pulled her hand away, then held her ground. Keeping that touch where it was, she dropped the sprayer. The other hand, thumb and finger, spread me open again. She examined my inner lips and clitoris closely. 

"I expected this to be, ..." She faltered. "I didn't think it would be so pretty. So delicate." A finger stoked the side of my clitoris, sending a happy spasm outward from the center point. 

With her finger still on the side of my clitoris, Micca looked up at me with a happy smile. Then she pressed a long warm kiss against my mons. The bare skin tingled at her touch. It held for a moment, then shifted, held and shifted, working its way down. She got to the point where pressure passed through to my clitoris, and my free hand found the back of her head. Feathery kisses continued downward, opening each inner fold with her tongue or lips. I moved my foot from the side of the tub to her shoulder, then behind her head. I tilted the lowest, warmest part of my vulva up to her, open wide, and felt the exploration continue. Micca had me trembling at the edge of orgasm by the time she worked her way back up to my clitoris. She took it gently between her lips and pressed.

Still pressing, her head shifted side to side. It looked like a "no" shake of her head, but it meant "yes, yes, yes!" I felt the tremors building deep inside. She kept the pressure against my clitoris even as she pressed her tongue-tip as low and far in as she could. I felt ragged moans coming from below my lungs. My throat had that raw feel of yelling, but I couldn't hear myself. All I could do was wrap myself around Micca's magical kisses, press her hard against me, and do something to keep from falling over. I felt my pelvis explode around that warm kiss. Micca held close, and my body tensed around her again and again.

The waves came lower and lower as my orgasm passed, so there was no one moment when I could say it was done. But, eventually, it was done. I softened the hold on the back of her head, and moved my foot from her shoulder to the tub floor. I was wracked, panting, half laughing out loud. "You come up here," I told her. I couldn't trust myself to let go of support yet.

Micca stood. I held her head again, and pressed it to my lips. That was my taste on her mouth. She had me inside her mouth, inside of her. Maybe that's why guys like oral sex so much, that feeling of being accepted so deeply. She returned my grasp, pulling my bottom against her hip and covering one of my breasts with her hand. 

I was still panting. "Where did you learn do to that?"

"My boyfriend tried it a few times," Micca said, holding me. "He meant well and really tried, but he didn't know what he was doing. I didn't know what to tell him, either, but I liked it anyway. Then, when I saw your ... you ..." She still couldn't use the words. "I kind of figured it out. You were so pretty, I couldn't help myself."

I was still trembling. "I need to sit down." Micca pressed against me once more, turned off the shower, and opened the shower curtain. We took turns drying each other with big fluffy towels, and I felt the warm weight of her breasts again. I passed her a soft terry robe while she toweled her hair, and I put on a print kimono. I stood on a stool and looked in the mirror. I felt my new nudity with my fingertips, enjoying that extra sensitivity. Then I stepped down and combed my fingers down through my hair, trying to figure out how to deal with it. Sometimes, long hair can be a pain.




Pretty Lin Ch. 02



Micca came up behind me and stroked my hair along with me. "Can I do it for you?" She reached for the dryer.

"Sure. Let's find a chair." There was one, plus a GFI plug, at the side of the kitchenette. I sat, and she started work behind me.

There is some wordless, animal pleasure in being groomed like that. I never much cared for the noise of the blow dryer. Its warm breath on my neck and shoulders more than made up, though, and merged with gentle tugs from Micca's brush. She brushed carefully, and thoroughly, starting at the tips and working up. When she got to the top in back, she was near done. She came around front to finish the sides and bangs. 

Her robe tipped open as her breasts swayed against it, leaning toward my hair. I gazed into deep darkness, framed by hanging breasts. Somehow, temple columns came to mind, hiding something sacred deep in the darkness between them. I reached up and grasped the side of her breast through the robe. It swayed against my hand as she moved. She smiled, and continued bathing me in warm air and brushing my hair. I opened the robe's lapel and held the side of her breast directly, my skin on hers. I had so much to learn about this body, so like and unlike my own.

Her smile beamed as I held her, and her care for my hair went on. I gently gave her breast back to gravity, then reached into darkness below her belt's robe. Fingertips found the tangle of pubic hair, half seen in the darkness, and I looked up into her face again.

She shivered as she opened to me, but kept up the warm work on my hair. I cupped her mound, and laid my middle finger along the seam between her labia. Then I grasped the edge of each one gently, and felt its warm thickness. She closed her eyes for a half-second, and nibbled her lip again. I realized that was one of her signs of becoming aroused - a sign fairly far along in the process. I bunched my fingers together and worked her mons, just where the labia folded away from each other. 

She really bit into her lower lip, put a hand on each of my shoulders, and let her head fall. Her attention was no longer on me - other than the pressure of my fingers. "Don't mind me," I teased. "You're doing a great job. Carry on." 

She rose to the challenge, continuing on my hair even as the first moment of tension clutched her hips from within. She held for a moment, felt it pass, and hurried to finish my hair. Her breath came ragged as I pressed and shifted the pressure. He labia filled and warmed. Despite their extra thickness, I felt her clitoris rise. I rubbed it from outside, with gently and steadily.

Micca stood and turned off the blower. Her shoulders tensed for a silent, wide-eyed moment. When she came back to herself, she whispered, "There, you're done."

I looked back into her steamy eyes. "Yes, but you're not. And you said you would come for me."

"Yes I did, and I want to. I really want to. Can we lie down?"

"Sure." I stood, brushed aside the half-knot of her robe's belt, and lifted it off her shoulders. I dropped the robe into a heap at her feet. She stood in front of me, radiant, curvy, and womanly, breasts low and open to me, almost begging me to touch her again. I was almost begging, too. I'm not sure what I wanted more: her orgasm, or my own.

I shrugged my kimono off, took her by the hand, and led the few steps to the bed. I pressed her shoulders down so she sat, then she scooted her bottom back to make room for me. I lay down next to her and reached over. She lay back, one arm behind her head and one knee up. She reached her down to pubis and looked up at me. I lay next to her, and cover her exploring fingers with mine. After a moment my own touch moved lower started to reach in to that deep warmth. 

She already shivered with excitement. I touched warm wetness as soon as her labia separated to me, and worked my way in again. Her vagina tightened at my touch, and her shoulders pulled in when it did. My fingers circled that ring of muscle again, but not as patiently as before. When the tip of my finger found its way in, I pressed up to the first knuckle in one stroke. Micca responded with a silent gasp, eyes and mouth open but unmoving. Then her arm came from behind her head, heaped a wide breast onto her chest, and grasped the wrinkled areola. I watched how she touched herself, learning. My finger kept drawing small circles, just inside her now, and working deeper by small steps.

The hand between her legs hadn't found a rhythm, though. After a few minutes, her face fell and I saw a tear in her eye. "Micca, Micca - what's wrong, pretty one? You're so beautiful, what's wrong?"

"Lin, I want to do it, I want you to feel me come again. But it's not working, I just don't know how." The hand scented with her sex rose to brush that tear away.

"Micca, it's OK. You know you can do it, you did it before with me. May I help?" I had withdrawn from her vagina, for the moment at least. "Here, give me your hand."

Obediently, she raised her had. I grasped it from behind and started to move back to where her excitement was fading. She was stiff, not resisting but not following. I shook her hand to loosen it up. "Just let this do what I tell it," I said holding that hand. She gulped and nodded, then closed her eyes. I moved our double hand back to her pubis, and guided her touch. I started with two fingers side by side, her two under my two, and pressed deeply against her mons. We massaged that spot for a moment, then moved on. Eventually, we reached the spot over her clitoris, not touching it directly but pressing from outside. She bit her lip again - it was working. The other hand came back to her breast, cupped it, and pinched the tip again in a wide, soft grip. 

Switching to just one finger, we moved to the top of her genital valley and probed, entering it slowly. We rubbed it again, until I saw muscles tense in her legs and hips, then pressed another step deeper in. Soon, the delicate crease of her thickened clitoris appeared under our touch. Lightly, lightly, we stroked - quickly, and back from the tip, until her breath came ragged, then slowed and pressed. After a deep breath, quickened again, then pressed again. Between fast moments, I guided her finger in different caresses: along one side of her clitoris then the other (my favorite), back and forth across the shaft, pressing firmly, and more. After a while I felt her leading. She liked the firm touch that slid back and forth across the solid bed behind her clitoris, feeling it shift under her finger. Then she guided me to the light fast touch again, then slowed. 

I followed more and led less, just holding her hand. Her eyes shut tight, her face took on an intense concentration. I let go of her hand -- it seemed to be doing just fine, now -- and plowed her furrow with my finger again ,down to that deep softness. My fingertip slid in just as she gasped at her own touch, and gasped within the gasp. She was so slick that I could have pressed all the way in at once, but I followed her pace. Once my finger went halfway, I could feel her tremors from within. Muscles everywhere tightened along with the ones inside, then relaxed. Her legs shifted wider, and I pressed more deeply in. Then it came. Her shoulders bunched and lifted off the bed, her knees bent outward, and her frantic caress ran on and on. I pressed my finger home inside and curled upward. In and out, curling inside, I added my caress to hers. It went on and on - I had never seen anything like that.

The Micca froze, all over, and crumpled like a puppet with the strings cut. I felt her hand move from between her legs, as she half-laughed, half-gasped the end of her orgasm. I slid my finger out of her, and shifted it to her clitoris. I pressed, just pressed, before she could relax completely. Still holding between her legs, I shifted to hug her around her shoulders. I loved the feel of her breasts against mine, and that last bit of tension remaining - the bit that my touch on her clitoris wouldn't let go.

After a moment or two, I moved my fingers just a bit, just enough to change the pressure on that delicate fold. Micca trembled and curled into me when I did. Bolder, I started to play again, gently at first, still pressing firmly. Micca looked toward me as a new tremor came over her. "Lin ..."

"Shh." I stopped her words with another kiss. By this time, her body had found a new rhythm: a pulse of all-over tension, then let go. A longer pulse of tension, then a shorter pause. I timed my touch to build with her, then hold her during the pauses, then bring her back to the next wave. Soon, the next wave began before the first one ended. Her body's pauses became troughs between waves. Each wave and trough rose higher than the one before, as my touch pulled her to a new crest. She held me close and hard, cheek against my shoulder, panting her way through another orgasm. Then that peaked, too. I held pressure on her clitoris to sustain it, but didn't push. Micca relaxed into me as I held her close, shoulders heaving. She looked up at me with a teary, happy smile.

I hadn't let go, though. The tension was still there, closer to the surface than ever before. I teased it again. Micca's happy grin changed from post-coital joy back to the onset of ecstasy. It took her by surprise. The waves didn't rise as high within her as the first two times. Still, they washed over her faster and carried her away after just a few. Taut moans escaped her open mouth and wide-open eyes. After this third orgasm, she settled into my arms. I could feel that the tension was really gone this time. Our embrace turned to cuddle. I withdrew my fingers, and just cupped the warmth between her legs.

A moment later, Micca leaned up on the bed, over me, and started to pepper my face with kisses. "My god, Lin, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. All that came from you. It was part of you all along. I just reached out and touched it." One of my fingers slid easily between her folds and I said that. Her clitoris no longer stood up, so I couldn't tell whether that was the bit of softness I touched. A quick, indrawn breath assured me that I had found the spot. I slid down between the honeyed folds, and in. I pressed a finger into her slickness, just far enough to give a feeling of penetration. She nibbled that lower lip again. "But this is still mine, isn't it?"

Her hand covered mine and pressed my touch deeper inside. "Yes, Lin. It's all yours."



Pretty Lin Ch. 03



I drowsed on the bus, thinking half-awake thoughts about my last visit with Lin, and about the wonderful feelings she had awakened in me. I had my jacket spread over me, to fight the chill of the bus's air conditioning. As a result, no one could see my hand pressing between my legs as some of the most amazing moments came back to me. I was barely aware of what that hand was doing, in my dreamy state, except that warmth started to spread outward from my hips.

My mind wandered in that half-awake state. I thought about how lovingly Lin had brought my first orgasm to me, and how much it delighted her to see and feel my body respond. Accepting that pleasure from her and seeing her joy in it both mattered in ways I couldn't put words to. It seemed as if my sexuality was from her and for her, even when I returned to her the sensations that she had given me. In my groggy state, that felt right somehow. Lin was my oldest and closest friend. I couldn't imagine extending that level of trust to anyone else. More than trust -- reliance? Need? At the thought of putting my senses in her hands again, something warm and happy blossomed low in my in my tummy and I felt an inner quiver. I dozed in and out, enjoying that glow of anticipation.

I worked back to full consciousness when the bus started maneuvering the city streets. My sleepy half-thoughts evaporated as I checked the time and made sure I wasn't leaving anything on the bus. Once I stopped and left the bus, the walk to Lin's apartment got the blood moving and wakened me fully. 

As soon as Lin opened the front door, she practically jumped to give me a bear hug, then stood on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. "Micca! It's so good to see you! Come in, come in." 

She held the door while I moved my bags inside. Then she closed the door. She moved toward me again, taking one of my hands in each of hers and pressing my back against the wall. Her lips found mine this time, in a touch much softer than I expected from her grip on my hands. Pinioned, her lips on mine, her breasts pressing into the softness of mine, a flare of physical sensation wiped coherent thought from my mind. A moment later, one of her thighs pressed up between mine and separated them. A hand on the back of my hip pulled me forward, pressing her soft, muscled thigh into the warmth between my legs, as our long kiss continued. Leaning back, she looked up into my eyes and said, "It's really good to see you."

We both luxuriated in the physical contact, legs between legs, for a long moment. Her grip still held one of my hands. I felt almost unable to act as long as she constrained me like that. "If I don't let go of you now," she said, "we'll never get out of here." Despite our plans, that sounded good.

Lin stepped back, lifted my hand for a quick kiss, and turned to her closet. I lifted my smaller bag onto her bed, the only place for it in this studio apartment, and got my gown out. Lin's was over the back of a chair. She had already shed her T-shirt and skinned out of her shorts as I watched. That left her wholly naked, and I let myself look at that tawny back and cute butt for just a moment. Then I started to undress, too.

Lin opened the underwear drawer, lifted a pair of panties and looked at it for a moment, then I heard her say "Nah" under her breath and look over her shoulder with an elfin grin. "It's a warm day and this gown is heavy. I don't need the extra layer. How about you?"

"Uh, OK." She could talk me into anything. I was down to my underwear by that point, so pushed my panties down to my knees, then stepped out of them. I kept the bra, though. I envied Lin's slim bust, the kind that didn't need one. On me, it's pretty much a necessity.

The gown had gone over Lin's head. She was settling it onto her shoulders and hips when she looked over at me. "You shaved!"

"Yes," I answered. "You looked so cute when you did that I decided to try it. I didn't want to go all the way, though. I figured I could try it like this, then trim more if I wanted." Lin came over and knelt in front of me while I was talking. Her face was just inches from my mons. I felt shy but excited under her examination. She reached a fingertip out and touched the little strip of fur I had left.

"Hey, that tickles!"

"Sorry." Her hand backed away, then she grabbed my hips in both hand and pulled her face into my mons. A warm, brief kiss almost melted me. She stood up and turned to lace up the top of her gown. "God, Micca, I'm going to be thinking how you look under that dress all day. If you don't cover up, I'll never get my hands off you." She headed to the bathroom to finish her adjustments.

I pulled my gown on and adjusted it. Even under the long skirt of my costume, I felt little wisps of breeze tickle me. If this kept up, I'd spend the whole day dripping. Just as I was finishing, I heard an angry growl from the bathroom. 

"What's the problem?"

Lin glared back at me with a makeup brush in her hand. "If you must know, I'm trying to draw in some cleavage. Not all of us have your natural gifts." Her glare dipped to my low-cut bodice for a moment, then back up. I have to admit, cleavage is one thing my figure is good for.

I looked at what she had been doing -- well, Lin never was very good with makeup. "Can I help?"

She stiff-armed the brush at me and growled, "You sure can't do any worse." She had tried to darken the valley between her breasts, to imitate the crevice that showed over my dress. That was never going to work.

"Get that top off so I can see what I'm working with." Her skin tone is a good bit darker than mine, so it took me a moment to orient myself in the unfamiliar palette of colors in her makeup bag. By the time I saw the logic in it, her top was around her waist. "Let's start by washing that off."

I have to admit, I played a little with the warm water and towel, stopping only when I heard a catch in Lin's voice. Once she was dried off, I turned her in front of me, so we both faced the mirror. I lifted the top to see about where the bodice came, then lifted her breasts in my hands.

"You don't plan on walking around behind me all day, do you?" 

"C'mon," I protested. "I need to see what I'm working with." True enough, but the feel of them in my hands was hard to let go of. "I think I see how to do this."

Instead of concentrating on the line of cleavage, which Lin would never really have, I started by dusting the tops of her breasts with a lighter tone. Then I darkened the side of each one a little, where it faced toward the other, and spent some time softening the edges and blending the shades. I didn't touch the flat expanse over between them. I wanted to do a little more of what light and shade normally does to show the shape of the curve, not add anything that wasn't already there.

The first time the makeup brush touched Lin's nipple was accidental, but the areola started to thicken immediately. After that, the brush touched more frequently, although I tried to make it look unintentional. Even with that, it didn't take long. I added a few touches to her cheeks and eyes, and was done. I held the bodice up to her chest again, and asked, "What do you think?" 

Clutching it to her chest, she turned to the mirror. "Wow! They almost look like boobs! You're brilliant!"

"I know," I answered. "My brilliance and my modesty are my two most endearing traits."

A few minutes later, she had finished dressing again and we in her car, driving to the Renaissance Faire. We'd been going for years, so it was almost a ritual for us. The SCA people got a bit too intense for our taste, with their complex rules and role-playing, but we enjoyed playing dressup up for it.

We spent the day looking at the crafts, watching the SCA geeks in their elaborate costumes and odd games, and largely avoiding the food concessions. The few things we nibbled were good, but we both wanted to avoid drinking very much and didn't want to make ourselves thirsty. The port-a-potties were usually pretty gross by the end of the day. Even without skirts that swept the ground, neither of us wanted to touch anything in there. We enjoyed the Faire, but were happy enough when the chill of sundown marked the end of the day.

Since we hadn't eaten or drunk much during the day, we were both famished when we got back to her apartment. Rather than take the time to cook, we each had a turn in the bathroom, then headed out to the Italian restaurant down the street. We didn't bother to change out of our Faire gowns, and attracted a few curious stares.

It was probably a mistake to start right in on the wine after spending the day dehydrated. It went straight to our heads. By the time we left the restaurant, we were giggling like twelve year olds. It's a good thing her apartment was just a couple of blocks; neither one of us was in any shape to drive. We made our way upstairs a little unsteadily. She turned on the lights in the apartment, and I bolted past her to the bathroom. After gulping a day's worth of water during the meal and a glass of wine too many, I felt like I was about to pop.

I hadn't finished when Lin came in, nonchalantly naked, and turned to the sink. She ran warm water into the sink and started washing the makeup from her face and chest. I finished at the toilet, then came up behind her. 

"I think you missed a spot." I pointed to the underside of her breast, over the horizon from her line of sight. "May I get it for you?"

She turned and handed me the washcloth. Really, she had gotten just about everything, but I enjoyed the feel of the warm water and rough washcloth. I enjoyed even more rubbing them over her tiny, perfect breasts, and hearing the little gasp at a soft scrape over her nipple.

"Do you want to take a shower?" I asked.

"I don't think so. I'm too tired." She sniffed under her arm. "It was a hot day. I really should wipe the pits."

"I'll do that for you!" I liked the way her body was responding to the warm water, the way her nipples rose as I washed her chest.

"OK," she answered, "But you don't want that dress to get wet, do you? Here, let me help." 

I put down the washcloth and stood with my arms out. Lin leaned over and kissed the top of each breast, where the low-cut bodice showed cleavage, then undid the laces. She wasn't quite tall enough to pull it over my head, so I helped with that step and hung it on the hook on the door. That left me wearing only my bra. I turned to face her again, then reached behind to undo it. 

Lin said, "I'll do that for you." I started to turn my back toward her, but she grabbed my hips and pulled us together, front touching front. Then she reached around behind me, to the eyelets. She's small, so she had to pull me close to reach the both sides of the connection. 

I felt the tension go out of the bra strap, but Lin still held me close with one arm around my waist. The other hand pulled the straps off my shoulders, one at a time, then tugged the bra out from between us. Her hands knew what they were doing and didn't need her eyes to guide them. The whole time, her dark hair framed a steady gaze up into my eyes. 

Still holding, she pushed her hips forward toward mine. "Now," she started, "about that PTA cleanup."

"PTA?" I couldn't figure out what that meant, for what we were doing.

"Pussy, tits, and armpits."

I giggled. "I've already done the T. Let me start on the A." She lifted one arm. I rewarmed the washcloth in the sink, then scrubbed gently. I hoped a firm touch would avoid the tickles, and it mostly did. I dried that, then did the other side. 

I rinsed the washcloth in warm water again and knelt in front of Lin. I put one hand on her behind, holding both cheeks, and started to dab at her clean-shaven mons. This close, the scent of her body filled my senses. Mostly, I detected the kind of clean-sweat smell that is uniquely Lin's, but something else too -- fresher, deeper, and sweeter.

Before going any lower with the washcloth, I ran my fingertip along the line between her labia, separating them the slightest bit as I went. I felt a slickness down low. When I looked, I saw a little sheen high between her thighs, too. "Oh, you dirty girl! You really do need a good cleaning, don't you?"

Lin just smiled and reached out to brush some hair from my face. Two half-steps moved her feet a bit more than shoulder-width away from each other. This didn't actually open her labia, but the line between them deepened. I needed two hands for this part of the job, so I let go of her bottom. One hand exposed her inner folds, the other stroked them with the warm, rough cloth. I saw one leg or the other tighten as she balanced; occasionally sinews stood out in both at once. Her breath came unevenly those times. I could feel excitement rising in my own body. Maybe I was seeing it rise in hers, too.

"Now," I said as I looked up, "open wide." Her knees bent into a squat that only Lin could make graceful. We held each others' eyes, her finger traced my brow, and I reached to the lowest point between her legs. One hand held her labia open, with the heel of that hand pressing against her mons. The other felt out the soft, deep entrance to her body, and laved it with loving strokes. 

She dipped as a tremor went through both knees at once. Her eyelid fluttered, over a quiet hiss of breath sucked in. When the moment passed, she said, "I think that's as clean as I can stand. Your turn now."

I stood, handed her the washcloth, and raised one arm. She wet it again, wrung it out, and started under my arm. I managed to resist the tickles -- Lin has a very light touch some times. Even while she was working on my arm, I felt her drifting lower, toward the side of my breast, and chose to enjoy the touch. She dried it, then I turned and presented my other side. Lin wrung and rinsed the cloth, then continued to clean me. 

Next, my breasts. I don't know why they fascinate her so much when hers are so beautiful, maybe it's the difference. She lifted one carefully and wiped the upper surface, then worked her way to the nipple. I felt it tighten under her gentle attention. Then, she bent over and kissed it. At first, she just pressed her face into the softness. After a moment, she peppered it all over with little kisses, top and sides, then took the whole areola into her mouth and suckled gently. I could feel my body responding, and smiled back when she looked up at me with her mouth full. She let go with her mouth, then wiped the underside as carefully as she had done the top. (That's the part that matters, where it gets sweaty.) Taking the towel in both hands, she lifted my damp breast and massaged it dry, rubbing the nipple frequently with the towel's soft roughness. 

My legs were trembling by the time she finished that breast, and clutched tightly together after the same treatment on the other one. Lin finished drying it, set it down, and reached for the washcloth again. Knowing what came next, I hopped up on the counter, next to the sink. I leaned back, scooted my bottom forward until it was almost off the counter, and managed to get my heels onto the edge of the counter, barely. I felt myself open completely to Lin's attention.

That first time we made love Lin had said "this is mine now," with her hand on my vulva, and I acquiesced. I shivered, not just because of the chill of the tile under me, but from the sense that this was somehow right. Starting at the crease next to each thigh and at the top of my mons, she daubed me with warmth. Working inward, she grasped an inner petal and tugged it gently aside so she could wipe the pinkness between the inner and outer lips, then the same on the other side. Thumb and finger spread me open, and she wiped the hood of my clitoris, top to bottom, each side. 

By that point, I could feel moisture pooling on the counter, under my bottom. Lin shifted her touch. I couldn't see what she was doing, but her singleness of intent was obvious. "Oh, this really needs to be cleaned. Look at all this." I felt a fingertip at the edge of my vagina. The touch came as a surprise, since I couldn't see the contact, and I felt myself flinch under it. Lin giggled, pursed her lips, and blew a puff of air where she had just touched. I flinched again.

"Come on, Lin! You're just teasing me now." I meant that in more than one way -- my arousal had reached a point that demanded additional stimulation, and the washcloth wasn't it. Lin wiped me carefully, wetting and wringing the washcloth once or twice more. A final quick poke touched my anus, and I yelped. Lin giggled again, then patted me dry with a towel. When she set the towel aside, I started to sit up.

Lin objected "Hey, I'm not done yet!" I leaned back, wondering what she had in mind. She brought both hands up between my legs, one at the base of each thigh, still staring intently into my open vulva. "You know, you were right. This is so much prettier than I expected." Then, as I had done with her last time, she leaned forward and kissed me. She touched me once with her lips or tongue, then sat back on her heels. Still looking into my open vulva, she licked her upper lip, and leaned forward again. As open as I was, her tongue tip easily probed the outermost edge of my vaginal canal. I tried not to squirm under that liquid caress, but reached down to her. I just wanted to touch, to connect, not control, so I brushed her hair back behind her ear and stroked its rim. Lip-nibbles along my pink petals alternated with long, wet strokes. That piercing soft tongue returned again and again to my vagina, then continued in a new exploration.

I think Lin noticed before I did. Some of her strokes seemed to touch my whole body. At each one, my breath rushed out with a sound and my body tightened. That tension started across my tummy, where I saw a ridge of muscle rise, then fall again as the moment passed. Soon, I could feel my bottom and thighs tighten when that wave passed over me. Lin caught the rhythm. As each pulse of tension arrived, her intimate caress would guide it to new parts of my body -- my shoulders joined in next. When that became too much, my body fell back, and her kisses reverted to slow and warm again. 

After a little while, Lin's attention centered high on my vulva. That agile tongue traced the ridge of my clitoris, avoiding over-stimulation at the tip. Each time my body wound tight, my whole body by that time, her tongue would flicker across that ridge. I couldn't control my voice; I could only listen as the tension drove ragged moans from my throat. Soon, the moment came. Instead of releasing me, each surge of strength took hold of my body before the last had let go. Each one rose above the one before, my voice edged louder, and I lost control to the orgasm that blossomed under her intimate kisses. Just when I reach the top of a surge, Lin's finger entered me deep and fast. Instead of getting louder, my voice locked in my throat. A little sound leaked out each time I panted, but her finger curling inside had grasped some new level of intensity and held it within me. 

I thought it couldn't become any more intense. But then, Lin wrapped her lips around my clitoris, sucked the tip of it out from its protection, and trilled her tongue-tip across it. I spasmed. My head threw back, even as my shoulders curled in on themselves. My panting froze as the intensity of it paralyzed my throat. Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it ended. I slumped, and my breath became my own again. Tremors shook me again and again, but the orgasm of my life was ending. Soon my voice returned, too, turning my breath into quiet gasps. Lin's kisses had been fast and complex, but became slow, wide, and warm. Her finger remained inside me, but just held. It no longer commanded my response. As sounds came from me again, they became more and more like laughter. Lin's finger withdrew, then her mouth, leaving only her hand to cover my most intimate nakedness. 




Pretty Lin Ch. 03



"Come up here, you." I manage to get the words out between gulps of laughter. I reached down for her, not even thinking how she could comply with that request. Lin stood, keeping the whole of her hand across my throbbing vulva, and leaned down between my legs. I felt her lean onto me, then inch upwards so our mouths could meet. Her weight pressing onto the tile counter under me should have been uncomfortable, but was the most comforting thing in the world right then. My legs had nearly cramped in place. First one, then the other, I stretched each and curled it around the slender body over me. I added my arms to the embrace, and hugged her slim strength more tightly than I could ever remember hugging.

I felt myself trembling again, but with the easy, irregular pace of laughing. My strength returned too: real strength, under my own control, not the driving insistence of orgasm commandeering my body. I held Lin's head in my hands, and kissed her again and again. Her face carried the scent and her mouth carried the taste of my orgasm. I couldn't get enough of that warm, animal scent. Tasting myself on her created an intimacy beyond words. She had taken me into herself; the proof lay on my own lips.

"Hey girlfriend." She looked into my eyes.

"Yes, girlfriend?" I answered, wondering what could possibly add to this moment.

"The bed is softer."

"I think my tailbone agrees with you." Awareness of the tile under me returned, with a threat of soreness coming soon.

"Then let's get your tailbone onto that bed."

"OK," I answered. I didn't want my contact with Lin to end, even for a minute. And, although I could move again, I didn't want to. "Carry me."

"What!?"

"I said carry me. You can do it."

"Micca, what do you weigh?"

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No, I'm just saying you're bigger than I am."

"Maybe, but you're stronger."

"Well, OK." She got her arms under herself and pressed upright. I let go with my arms, but not my legs. "Now sit up here." 

I sat upright and circled her neck with my arms. She tugged backward until my bottom was almost off the counter, then put both hands under me. I felt her fingers lace together underneath to support my weight. I leaned toward her and hugged close.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready." I tightened my arms and legs around her. With a grunt, she lifted me and turned to the bathroom door. I was afraid her grip wouldn't hold, but it did. Thumping footsteps carried our combined weight the short way across the studio apartment. When she got to the bed, she fell forward. That dumped me hard onto the mattress, costing me a lungful of air. Before I finished coughing it out, she landed on top of me. She was laughing this time.

"I wasn't sure I could do that," she crowed.

"Yeah, but you've got to work on your landings." That first breath wasn't a full one, and my voice crumbled halfway through.

"My landing was soft, you meanie." Lin swatted my bottom. It wasn't gentle, but didn't hurt. "Go pick on someone your own size."

"It was soft because you landed on me!" I reached under her arms and tugged upward. That brought her face level with mine. It also made me aware of the delicious weight and warmth of her small, sleek frame supported on mine. "There. Now we're the same size." 

She laughed and rolled off me. She started to reach for the light switch, but I interrupted her. "Lin?"

"Micca?"

"That was really special."

"Oh my god, Micca, I could tell. I've never seen anything like that before in my life."

"Really special." I stretched out so my hand to stroke her arm. "But I didn't do anything for you."

"Are you nuts? I almost came three times watching you back there." Her free hand covered her mons as she spoke, seemingly of its own volition.

"Almost came? Is that all you want today? Really?"

"You sweetie. I'm tired from that long day." 

"OK," I answered. "Let's just get you a quickie, then." My hand covered hers where it had found its way between her legs. "You do this part, and I'll take care of the upper." I bent to a nut-brown nipple and took it between my lips. 

Maybe I have bigger breasts, but Lin wins in the nipple department. I felt the softness of her areola thicken between my lips, and felt the nipple emerge. Mine are barely more than the size of a pencil eraser, but Lin's aroused nipples were as fat as my thumb. When I could only feel one with my mouth, it seemed larger. 

While I admired her perfect handful of breast, I felt Lin's hand working between her legs. I moved my hand wander across the smooth curve of her thigh, to the round softness of her tummy. She really had been on edge; I felt her building quickly toward her peak. My hand worked up to the soft pad of her other breast, the one I was not already kissing. I mounded it on her chest, and scissored its nipple between two fingers. Soon, that breast took on an extra fullness. It seemed to swell in my hand. I knew that Lin would come within moments.

She did. Quiet, quick sounds came from the hand between her legs, and others came from deep in her throat. I grasped her nipple harder, not to hurt but to intensify the feelings that her breast sent to her clitoris. My lips, with a slight touch of teeth, did the same on the other side. Her body arched, then bowed, then held for timeless seconds. Then she fell back. Her eyes opened again and looked up into mine. A hand on back of my head guided me towards a kiss. Just before our lips touched, I heard her say, "Thanks, girlfriend."

Lin let go for a moment to turn out the light, then rolled back to me. The comfort of her arm around me had me asleep in just a few moments.

----

I woke up to a combination of quiet sounds. A clink of dishes reached my consciousness first. I looked over to the kitchenette and saw Lin making breakfast. The hum of the microwave ended in a 'ding,' and signaled Lin to pour hot water into the French press for coffee. Then, over the quiet shuffle of Lin's feet and rattle of working, a low staccato hiss filled the background. The wind outside changed, and slashed the window with rain.

Damn. We had planned to go for a run early, then spend the day gallery-hopping and window-shopping -- basically all our student budgets could afford. Neither one of us was sufficiently hard-core a runner to do it in this downpour. That plan was shot.

I couldn't stay disappointed just then. Lin worked with her back to me, wearing an over-sized T-shirt. I knew that it covered her, just barely, in front. In the back, though, it tended to bunch up a little just where her rear started to curve out. That left the lower inch of her bottom exposed. She seemed unaware of it, but its shifting and swaying captivated me. I couldn't look away from it if I tried.

Soon, she pressed the plunger on the coffee, poured two mugs of the thick, dark brew, and turned toward the bed with a tray in her hand. She saw I had been staring, and looked at me quizzically. I guess she really didn't know what she looked like from behind. 

In addition to the mugs and a napkin for each of us, the tray contained a big bowl of fruit: cut pineapple, peach slices, and some green chunks and spears of melon. I took a mug and reached for a piece of fruit. Lin made a "tssk" noise and pushed my hand away. Instead, she picked up a pineapple chunk between two fingers and offered it to me. I leaned forward to take it, and kissed the fingertips before they moved away from my lips. Lin popped a chunk of fruit into her mouth next.

We each chewed a juicy mouthful as she settled herself on the bed facing me, with our knees touching. She fed us both, and often let her fingers touch my lips or cheek once she had popped the morsel into my mouth. After the first few, she started to play with each one. I felt a slice of peach rub against my lips before she let my teeth grasp it; I had to lean forward to take some pineapple from her fingers. Next time, I had to lean so much that my breasts swung forward, over my lap. Lin cupped a hanging breast, then let me have the chunk. I felt my nipple grasped between her fingers as she supported the hanging softness. 

She had set her own mug aside, and focused entirely on me. Still holding that breast, Lin pushed a strand of hair away from my face. She reached for a slice of peach next. Instead of offering it to me, she put it between her own lips and leaned toward me. The end of it poked out in invitation. I took the other end in my own mouth. My lips pressed hers as we shared the cool slice of fruit. Her free hand grasped my head from behind and held me close -- not hard, but not letting me go, either.

Lin continued to look at me when she pulled away, then looked down to the coffee mug in my hand. It was empty. She took it from me and put it back on the tray. She released my breast, then, put one of her hand on each of my shoulders, and pressed me backwards. Taking her cue, I lay back on the bed. She put a cube of melon between her lips, then leaned over me to press it to my mouth. The kiss lingered as we each nibbled one side of the sweet chunk. 

I reached up to her. She intercepted my hand, though, and pressed it down onto the bed, over my head. When she let go, I reached up again. She took my hand again, and pressed it more firmly against the mattress. Next, she put my other hand over my head, too, so my arms crossed at the wrist. She looked into my eyes expectantly, as if some message had just passed between us and she wanted an answer. When she let go of my hands again, I held them where she had place them. They felt almost chained in place, with an invisible cuff of her will and with me yielding to it. 

Maybe yesterday's fantasy gown left the idea in my head, but I got an image of some captive fairy tale princess, immobilized by some villain. She caressed me, handled the softness of my breasts, and turned her attention lower on my body. It created a delicious tension. The captive princess in me felt forced to submit to these touches, felt arousal pulled from her, against her will. I squirmed on the mattress, keeping my wrists where Lin had placed them. The motions only opened me more. Lin placed one finger along the slit between my labia. She looked up at me again, and worked the fingertip slowly between them.

She let go for a moment, picked up some slices of peach, and returned her attention between my legs. I felt her press one juicy wedge low between my labia, pressed in enough to stay. The next wedge split my labia a little higher, and also held them open. A third pressed into me even higher, pushing shivery cool against my clitoris. 

Lin held that one in place with a finger. She studied her work for a moment. When she wiggled the soft fruit against my clit, my body arched against it. The fairy tale unrolled in my mind; the princess was ravished slowly. This delicate indignity against her most private self was more than she could have imagined. It foreshadowed other unimaginable violations, and other unimaginable responses from the princess's unwilling body. Lin leaned down and licked each slice. The first touch pushed each farther in, just a little, then a squirming tongue tip dug it out. I opened myself to her kisses. The imagined princess writhed, both at the foreign shape squirming within her womanhood and at the feeling that arose within her loins. That unfamiliar lust seemed to turn against the captive, joining forces with her ravisher, forcing the princess to submit.

Lin pulled the last slice into her mouth, then went back to lick the juice from my labia. Outside first, then between the folds, her mouth took every drop -- even when my own flavor mingled with the peach. Still immobile against the mattress, the imagined princess felt a whirl of emotion. When her captor cleaned her, the warm gesture shaded naked feelings of shame. She was being taken and shamed, and shamed even further by her arousal. Lin hadn't said a word, but this fantasy continued to build in my imagination.

Next, Lin reached over for a long, thin slice of melon. She held it up to me, and to the princess within me, turning it over in her hand. Lin studied it, nibbled the end to a roundly pointed shape, and looked back into my eyes for a moment. Then she turned back to my hips again, and spread my labia with the fingers of one hand. The princess turned away as she was examined so intimately. Then the cool touch came. I felt my vagina constrict when the melon first touched my openness. Lin ran the slick stick up and down, toying with my clit, then poised its tip at my body's opening. She worked the tip in just enough to be sure of its position, then looked into my eyes again. I tensed; the imagined princess cowered as her ravishment reached a new depravity. 

Slowly, in a little and then out, Lin pressed the soft spear into me. My body responded, clenching around the first of this invasion. I looked over at the plate, where the other melon spears lay waiting, and suddenly realized just how thick they were -- how thick the one was between my legs.

"Look at me." Lin's free hand touched my chin and guided my face back toward hers. She stroked my face and hair, and added a little more pressure to the stick of melon entering me. The imagined princess within me writhed in shame as her body was taken, an inch at a time, by another's will. I writhed at the inexorable entry of Lin's cool toy. The melon's natural slickness, when combined with my own, let it pierce my vagina easily. Once it started into me, my body had no defense against its entry. In the back of my mind, the frightened princess tightened her body against the invasion, but that just made her inner muscles clasp the cruel probe even more tightly. The slowness of its entry prolonged the princess's humiliation. It also gave time for her body, my body to respond with arousal.

Already, the melon spear felt wider than Lin's finger ever had. Then, each time Lin pressed again, it widened even more. Although her gaze held mine, I saw her eyes darting around my face, gauging my response, looking for any sign that I might want the game to end. I certainly did not. I kept my arms where the imagined chains held them and willed myself to relax internally. The next gentle increase in pressure came, and I felt my teeth against my lower lip. Lin stopped for a moment, stroked my cheek, and looked into my eyes. I felt my eyelids flutter, then I looked back into hers. I nodded just a little, to let her know it was OK. She rewarded me with a smile and another slow, soft kiss.

The next slow push widened me even more. That half-formed fantasy of the ravished princess started again in my mind. I wasn't sure where it came from. That would have been terrifying in real life, and the fantasized brutality did not match Lin's gentle, insistent touch at all. The scene playing to my inner vision offered a safely scary thrill like an amusement ride, but of an erotic kind I had never felt before. I decided to let myself enjoy this adult thrill. My mouth opened a little when I lifted my head toward Lin; the prince leaned unwillingly toward the villain who had taken over her body.

The next bit of the melon spear's length vanished inside me, swelling even wider. The sense of my body being opened gradually shifted toward a fullness, fuller than I had ever felt before. At the same time, the natural curve of the melon crescent started to have its own effect, too. The end inside me curved upward, as if it would come out somewhere below my belly button. It gave a little of that have-to-pee feeling, but also touched something very special inside me. I tensed around it, feeling my whole body shiver.

Lin kissed my cheek when that happened, withdrew the melon a little, then pressed again. The princess nearly sobbed as the implement worked deeper into her; I drew a few deep breaths as I adapted to the width. I knew, in my mind, how wide the melon slice was, just two or three finger-widths. It felt huge, though, far more than had ever been in me before. It didn't hurt, but my body had to adapt to this new feeling. I felt a tear start at the side of my eye. Lin kissed it away, then stroked my cheek as she looked into my eyes.

One more press in, and the widest part of the melon wedge entered me. Even as the feeling of fullness expanded, it no longer stretched the entrance to my vagina quite so wide. The imagined princess's humiliation reached a new level. Her own body held the invading instrument within her, carrying out her captor's will.

With the melon wedge implanted, Lin's hand was free for other things. Her touch explored all around the wedge, feeling how my body accepted it. She stroked my tummy, just barely above my mons, as if feeling for the curved end of its arc. I don't show what she felt, but the pressure shifted it within me. The feeling was different from my usual arousal, the kind that leads to orgasm. This was an overwhelming intensity of feelings, physical and emotional, that created a kind of experience I had never felt before.

Lin offered one more soft, lingering kiss, then worked her way down my body. Soon, I was looking at her back as she leaned over my genitals. I spread my legs and tipped my hips up to receive her kiss. She collected her thick hair in one hand, then bent over my vulva. 

Her mouth pressed against my mons, transmitting warm pressure to the swollen shaft of my clitoris below. At the same time, she used her fingers to flick at the protruding end of the melon wedge. Each twitch went deep into me, and seemed to squeeze another gasp out of me. The curved end of the wedge pressed forward inside me, shifting across that exquisitely sensitive spot behind my pubic bone. The imagined princess felt the same invasion, wresting from her body a secret that not even she had known, the secret of that sensitive spot deep inside. That knowledge of her body became her captor's before it had ever been her own.

Lin leaned lower between my legs, kissing as she went, then took the end of the melon wedge between her teeth. She tugged, pulling the widest part of the spear out towards my body's opening again, then pressed, so her lips surrounded my vagina. Pulses of tension rang through my body, matching Lin's in and out tempo.

Then I heard a 'snap' and felt a tremor deeper than any before. Lin had bitten the outer tip off the melon wedge. The crisp spear, most of it still inside me, transmitted the shock into my vagina, then through the rest of my body. She nibbled, tugged, then bit again.

The sensation of each inner crunch nearly blinded me. Each bite triggered something like a short, sharp orgasm. Lin's mouth tugged the melon until the widest part held my vagina open, then bit again. Each time she bit off more, I nearly curled into a ball around the sensation. I whimpered, wanting more but not sure I could stand it. Her lips brushed my inner labia for a second before the next crunching bite. My body tensed, expecting the teeth to grasp my softest tissues, but Lin was careful. The crisp melon shattered, sending its shock waves into me, even as Lin's soft lips caressed me. That triggered my final orgasm, the big one, the one that Lin guided with her kisses and with the shaft penetrating my body. The fantasy princess reached orgasm too, the bodily sensations of gentle coercion overcoming her will, a contradictory mix of feelings rising from her mind and captive body.

She held the short, remaining bit of melon spear inside me until my body collapsed onto the bed. Finally, I was finished. Still holding it in her teeth, Lin withdrew it from me, leaving emptiness after that too-full feeling. She leaned back up toward me again, still holding the melon between her lips. As her face approached mine, I knew what she wanted. I took the tip of the melon spear in my mouth, and tasted myself over its sweetness. Knowing the feelings it had filled me with, I accepted it again, into my mouth this time. We worked toward each other, each nibbling body-warm melon from one end, dribbling juices across my cheek. That ended in a long, slick kiss, with her firm breasts pressing into mine. 




Pretty Lin Ch. 03



She took my hand from its imagined captivity, and set it on her hip. The spell broke, I was free again. Or was I? The prolonged intensity of that feeling stayed with me, even more than the orgasm that ended it, and the role of Lin's gentle, loving touch. So did the imagery that arose in my mind -- the captive, and her restraint, abasement, and final capitulation. I wasn't sure which I wanted more.

Lin brushed loose hair away from my face again, and held me close. She whispered, "Micca, you are so beautiful. That was amazing." 

It was only mid-morning, but I lay back exhausted. Lin picked up the remaining spear of melon and studied it, rotating it so she could see each side. Then she looked at me, still holding it, and said, "This is mine, isn't it Micca?" She didn't mean the actual piece of fruit -- she meant something about my penetration, her command of my body, and its overwhelming response. If she had known my fantasy of submission, she might have meant that, too.

"Yes, Lin, it's yours. It's all yours," I answered. "All of it." 



Pretty Lin Ch. 04



[Dear reader: This continues where ch.3 left off. Some points of ambiguity might be resolved if you read that first. With or without chapter 3, I hope you enjoy it.]

*

Micca and I just lay there, holding each other gently, not eager to get up. Maybe she or I dozed; the sound of rain made it easy. A few chunks of fruit remained from our breakfast earlier. I fed them to Micca and myself, alternating with small kisses and nibbles. Micca just lay, in happy exhaustion. I loved seeing my friend like that. Seeing her satisfied like that had an effect on me, too. It spawned a luscious sense of hunger, the kind that seemed to radiate out from between my legs. 

After a while, I got up. I pulled on that big, comfy T-shirt, and carried our breakfast things to the sink. This studio apartment is too small for two messes at a time, so I washed up and set the dishes to dry. Just as I was finishing, I heard Micca get out of bed and come up behind me. I yelped and nearly dropped the dish when I felt her cool hand on my bare bottom.

"Michaela! You almost …" I started to say something.

"Shh, girlfriend." Her hand cupped my bottom, even as her other arm wrapped around my waist, up under my shirt. I felt her soft, heavy breasts against my back as she pulled me closer. She leaned over to nibble my ear, and whispered. "Did you know that this shirt rides up in the back?"

"Does it?" In truth, I thought it covered me, mostly. I suddenly understood those looks, the warm, longing looks I had seen on her when I wore this shirt. 

"Yes, and it shows the cutest little buns in the world." She jiggled my butt with her hand, then moved around to hold me in front. She pulled my hips back, against the warmth of her lap. "Every time I see it, I want to reach over and touch it."

"Is that all you want?"

"No, Lin, it makes me want to hold you close." The hug shifted. The higher hand held my breast from underneath, and the lower one covered my pubis. "It makes me want to feel your body against mine, and feel you get excited." 

The hand on my breast clasped the nipple between thumb and fingertip, rolling it gently. The hand between my legs massaged my vulva, so I could feel the inner folds shifting under her touch. I set the dish and towel down, so I wouldn't drop them. "Micca, do you know how excited I am already?"

"I'm getting a pretty good idea. This," she tweaked the upright nipple, "says a lot. And this," her hand cupped my vulva more tightly, "feels pillowy and warm. It only feels that way when your body wants something. And this," a finger pressed easily between my labia, "feels deep and slick." 

She was right. Her fingertip ran up and down between my labia, opening me without really entering. I felt her spread the slickness, and work it along the rising crease of my clitoris. My knees almost went out from under me at that touch. It didn't end; she pressed hard against it, rocking it under the soft pad of her finger. I hadn't realized just how much Micca's earlier display had affected me.

"Micca, let me …" She didn't let me finish.

"Lin, let me. I want to feel you in my arms, feel you come. Is that OK? May I do that for you?"

I leaned over the counter, tilting my hips back into her thighs. I couldn't trust my voice by that point, so I just put my hand between my legs, over hers. My touch said that hers was where I wanted it. I spread my legs a little more and caressed the back of her hand.

As new as she was to making love like this, Micca's touch felt perfect. One hand massaged my breast, with occasional rasps of her nails at the tips. The other flickered over my clit, as if pouring the waves of tension into my vagina. Her touch roamed at times, collecting more moisture, keeping the friction light and slick. Both hands pulled me close, as if enveloping my small body in her larger one.

I don't often stand during sex. The extra tension in my legs added a dimension. Instead of just rocking my hips, I felt my knees flex. Soon, my body demanded more. Instead of just touching the hand she held between my legs, I pushed it harder. I reached down, too, to press against my vagina as she held my labia and tickled my clit. 

Far sooner than I expect, orgasm burned inside me. If she hadn't supported me, my bucking legs might not have held me up. My finger drove inward, forcing itself against my inner muscles. My whole body arched against hers. I felt a tug at my nipple, the kind that would have been too hard a moment earlier, and warm breath where my neck and shoulder joined. I rode that wave, then the next, and the one after that. More waves came over me too, but not with such crashing effect. My voice returned. I panted between the bursts of intensity, and moaned within them.

In a moment, my body nearly collapsed. I leaned onto the counter, supporting myself on both elbows. Micca's grip around me unwound partway, but continued to hold my bottom against her warm thighs. She could no longer hold my breast, but stroked my shoulders and back. I held her other hand in the warmth where my thighs parted, as if holding the last tremors of orgasm inside. Soon, even that faded into a happy glow. I pulled her hand away, up toward my lips. I kissed those long, loving fingers, and tasted my own sweet musk on them.

Soon, I could trust my legs again. Still leaning against the counter, I turned to face Micca. She's taller than me but her breasts lie lower on her chest, so hers and mine pressed together. I reached up to kiss her, to share a little of the taste on my lips. She returned the kiss with soft, wide warmth. 

She looked at me and said, "I owed you one. More maybe, but I hope that's a good start."

"You don't owe me anything. And yes, it was very good." We stood there a moment longer, holding the warmth between us and rocking a little, almost like slow dancing. The low rustle of rain seemed to isolate us from the world, creating an insulating cocoon around us. Come to think of it, the rain was quieter than before, and had stopped coming in waves.

I looked up and asked, "It sounds quieter out there. Do you want to go out?"

"You mean running?"

"No, it's still to wet for that, but it sounds like an umbrella would let us do the galleries."

"OK, I'm up for it." She sniffed, and added, "But I hope you don't want to go smelling like this."

"I thought you liked my smell." I teased her with a cartoony pout.

"I do, but I'm afraid every guy on the block will too, and I don't feel like sharing." She tugged my pelvis against hers as she said it.

"Well, I guess that's OK." I teased again. "Let's get showers before we go."

"Showers plural? I hoped one would do for the two of us."

"Sorry, that's what I meant." We let go of each other and started into the bathroom. 

Micca adjusted the water while I got towels out. Drying my hair would take too long, so I twisted it into a high bun and stuck a barrette in it. We washed each other, taking a little extra time for play. Micca seemed different, somehow, more attuned to me than usual. Each time I touched her, she would lean or open up to make it easier for me, as if hoping for something more. I pressed one finger up inside her while washing between her legs; it slid in easily. She nibbled her lip when I did and put her hands on my shoulders, but didn't resist at all. I tugged gently, pulling her close for a kiss, then released her. We played with the sprayer a little, then finished and dried each other.

Micca dressed in a calf-length white skirt. Eyelets near the hem and white embroidery gave it a feminine look. Above that, she wore a gray, ribbed tank top with wide shoulder straps. The ribs widened where the shirt stretched over her curves, giving emphasis she hardly needed. I picked a denim skirt, a little above the knee. On top, I wore a short-sleeve button-down shirt over a white tube top. I liked the look with the shirt tucked in and open down to the bottom button. I also liked the looks I always got when I wore that, especially when I folded the tube top lengthwise to make it even narrower. It didn't cover much that way, but I don't have much to cover. A girl has to do the best with what she's got, right?

On the way out of the apartment, Micca and I both stepped into sandals that wouldn't mind the wet. She led the way out so I could lock up behind us. Her lovely, wide hips swayed as she walked in front of me. The swinging skirt swayed with her, making me think of a church bell. She opened the umbrella at the bottom of the stairs, and we set out. 

We had to stay close to keep both of us dry, but that was easy. It felt right, too. I wanted to feel close to Micca that day, and she seemed to want the same. I still felt sense I had earlier, that she was more attuned to me than usual. I liked it. It made me feel cared for. But it gave some other feeling, too, as if Micca were expecting something from me, or looking for something. That seemed silly, so I turned and gave her a little peck of a kiss. Her response, as if starting to melt from that little touch, didn't make the feeling go away. It wasn't a bad feeling, just a little funny.

The galleries in this college town cover the whole range, from funky and edgy, to the great masters (old and new), to art that goes with the furniture. Coffee shops and other local stores often put work by local artists on their walls, too. It doesn't cost anything to look, and there's plenty to fill a day with, or at least a rainy afternoon like ours. Also, one of Micca's friends was opening a show of her paintings at one of the coffee shops. We stopped in to pay our respects – and to get some free wine and cheese at the opening.

The farmers' market was our last stop before heading back. The overcast sky darkened as evening approached; the summer rain took on an un-summery chill. We picked up a few things for supper, then splurged on some wine bottled locally – a white and a red. 

If we had been just a little faster or a few minutes earlier, we would have missed the downpour. As it was, the rain picked up when we were about ten minutes from home, driven almost sideways by gusting wind. My shirt plastered itself to my back and chest; Micca's skirt took on a bedraggled look. It also turned almost transparent where it clung wetly to her. It could have been worse. Her undies were clearly visible through the thin, wet cotton, but it would have been equally visible if she weren't wearing any.

We headed straight to the bathroom as soon as we got in and peeled off our wet things. Micca seemed especially eager to get the sodden bra off. "Something about that one really chafes when it gets wet," she explained. We toweled each other off and hung the wet things until I could get them into the apartment's coin-op dryer. I wrapped myself in a thick terry robe. Micca was still shivering when she pulled on sweatpants and buttoned on one of my fleeces. I made us each a cup of tea to warm up with. Distant thunder sounded as I started turning our produce into a stir-fry.

The rice was half done and I was about to start on the stir-fry when the lights flickered a couple of times and went out. For once, I was happy that the antiquated kitchenette had a gas stove, so supper wouldn't be affected much. There was barely enough light for me to find the drawer with candles, holders, and matches. I set the first one up where I was cooking and put three more at the table for Micca to deal with. She sighed, "So much for that reading assignment," then sat at the table and lit the candles.

The four candles lit the meal quite nicely, once our eyes adapted. We each had two helpings of the spicy vegetables and tofu over rice, and got giggly on the wine. Candle light created a close, warm environment. I cleared the dishes, then realized that dessert probably wouldn't work as planned. The worst of our wet chill had passed. We really hadn't warmed up, though, and the evening had cooled fast as the storm front moved through. I offered, "Ice cream?"

Micca shivered visibly. "No th-thanks. Is there anything else?"

I looked around. "How about some hot chocolate and a little of this?" I found a bottle of Bailey's and held it up to her. 

Micca's smile added to the candle-lit glow. "How about some hot chocolate with a lot of that?"

I mixed cocoa, sugar, and milk on the stove while Micca moved the candles to the bedside table. Next time I looked over, she was huddled under the covers, leaning against the wall next to the bed, with her bare shoulders showing above the blanket. They hadn't been bare a moment ago. 

I set the Bailey's and the mugs of cocoa next to the candles. Micca stared at me with a happy grin as I dropped the robe, climbed into bed, and arranged the blanket over my legs. We each took a big sip from our mug, to make room for more Bailey's, then sat back against each other. I put my hand on her leg under the blanket, and she did the same to me. Even though she's taller than me, she slid down the wall to my shoulder height. At one point, she leaned over with cocoa-warm lips and grasped my nipple. I felt it rise at the touch. That was a pleasant change from earlier, when they were almost sore from stiffening in the cold.

Lin finished her cocoa and passed me the empty mug. "More?" I asked, and she shook her head 'no.' I set the mug down, then leaned back to finish my own. She shifted around so her head was in my lap, a very trusting gesture. It looked almost kittenish, in fact, which seemed not to fit her height and powerful build. I accepted the affection in the gesture, though, and traced the edge of her ear with a fingertip. 

She lay with her head on my thigh, looking away, buried in covers. After a few minutes of easy silence, she spoke in a small voice. "Lin?"

"Mmm?" I answered without words.

"When we made love this morning, uh …" she faltered.

"Was that too much? I wasn't sure you'd …"

"No!" She pulled the blanket off my lap, kissed the first piece of thigh she could find, and pulled it back before settling in again. "It was wonderful. It was, I don't know. The most amazing thing I ever felt. I didn't know a body could experience anything like that. Lin, you were fine. You were more than fine. You were incredible." She wriggled her shoulders again until she found the most comfortable spot on my lap.

"There's something else, though. I don't want to sound weird, I don't know how to say it so it sounds the way I want it to." 

"Take your time, Micca. Find the right words. I'm not going anywhere."

I held the head cradled in my lap for another few minutes. Micca looked about to speak two or three times, then stopped herself. Finally, she started.

"I loved what you were doing, I loved the feeling you gave me inside. That was so intense that I didn't think there was room for anything else in me. But, the whole time, I was getting pictures in my mind. I'm not even sure where they come from."

"Pictures?"

"Parts of pictures, at least, almost strung together into a story. And the story followed along with the wonderful things you were doing." 

"What kind of story?" Micca was circling around something, too shy to approach it directly. Whatever it was seemed to matter to her, though, and telling me mattered as well. 

"It was kind of a fairy tale story, about a beautiful princess. She …" Micca stalled at this point, too nervous to go on.

I let the silence go on until it started to seem uncomfortable. "May I guess, Micca? Was the princess captured?" Micca nodded yes. 

"Her captors tied her up." Nod.

I paused before the next guess. "And they undressed her." A little shiver, and another nod.

"And they did things to her." Nod. 

"Like I was doing to you." A shaky breath, a little nod, and her hug tightened. 

"Against her will." That seemed to be the trigger, the thing that Micca was really concerned about.

Micca sat up fast at that, and words started pouring out of her mouth. "Yes, but it wasn't like that, you weren't doing anything like that, I loved what you were doing, but the men who had the princess – brpp" Her lips burbled when I put a finger against them, hushing her.

"Micca, I would never do anything you don't want. You know that, right?" I took my finger away from her lips and hugged her. She nodded, not looking at me.

"It was a fairy tale, like your mother used to tell you, but with the grownup parts left in." She nodded again, then almost started a torrent of words again. I hushed her with a finger.

"Things happen in fairy tales that you'd never want in real life, don't they?" Nod again.

"But it's just a fantasy, just a story. That doesn't mean bad things were happening, or that you want them to happen." 

Micca still couldn't look at me, but finally spoke. "That's it, Lin. I didn't want you to think …," she paused again.

"That I was doing what those men did in the story?" 

"That's right. You were being so sweet to me, Lin, not like that," She gave a teary sniff, then wiped her eye with the back of her hand. 

"And you don't want to be treated like in the story, not for real."

"Oh god, no." Micca almost curled into a ball when she said it. 

I tipped her chin up. A moment after her face turned toward me, she looked at me, too. I kissed her, hugged her, rocked her. "That's what stories are for, Micca, the ones with scary parts. Scary things can happen in stories, but not bad like in real life. You know there's going to be a happy ending. And it wasn't about anything real." She nodded into my shoulder and sniffed again.

I lay her down on the pillow, then pinched out the candles. I lay back next to her, and worked my arm around her again. We pulled the covers up to block out the rainy chill. Our legs laced together warmly. I pulled her hip close, and relaxed into the skin-to-skin intimacy.

The sound of rain soothed the darkness, with occasional rumbles of far thunder. Tonight, though, it wasn't putting me to sleep. It felt as if Micca hadn't relaxed into sleep either. After I lay for a while in the darkness, I whispered, "Micca?"

She answered sleepily, "Mmm?" Her hand tightened behind my thigh when she did.

"I get little pictures in my mind sometimes, too." She made a sleepy noise and pulled me closer. I kissed her. "Not like yours, I don't think, not real stories."

Her hands moved over me in the darkness: hip, waist, shoulder, and back again. Her long, soft curves moved under my touch, too. I wasn't sure if I should ask, if it would make Micca upset again, but I was too intrigued to let it go. "Micca?"

"Mmm?"

"Could you tell me the story you saw? The one you told me about?"

Her hands stopped, her whole body seemed to tighten. I was afraid of that. I hugged her close and hard. "Only if you want to. I mean, you started, and --"

Micca cut in, quietly. "It wasn't a whole story, Lin, just pieces."

"Could you make them into a whole story? For me?"

Something happened when I spoke the words, 'for me.' Micca seemed to melt against me. I could barely hear her answer. "OK. For you." Then, so I could hear her better, "Just give me a moment to think."

In my arms, in the darkness, Micca seemed to shrink until she felt smaller than me. I held her, stroked her, kissed her shoulder, until she started to speak. "Once upon a time."

Maybe it wasn't the most complex story in the world, and maybe the abduction scene was borrowed from "The Princess Bride." That's not the point. Micca was sharing something with me, in that rainy darkness. Her quiet voice, barely above a whisper, spoke to me alone. Soon, that voice started on the sexy part of the story.

Once that started, the action really did follow our morning lovemaking pretty closely. I mean, the physical activity – the emotional state of the captive princess was nothing like ours had been, even though her body responded like Micca's had. In fact, the way Micca spun this fantasy suggested a lot more than I had sensed about how she felt during our play. Hearing about the mounting excitement had the predictable effect on me.




Pretty Lin Ch. 04



"Micca, Is it OK if I play with myself? Your story is turning me on like you wouldn't believe."

"Of course, Lin!" My fingers entered the narrow space where her thigh pressed up between my legs.

"And, Micca? Would you pet yourself too, so I can feel you?"

"Yes, if that's what you want." Her arm around my shoulders pulled close, and closeness turned into a long soft kiss. I felt her other hand work down between us while our lips brushed each others'. The kiss soon ended but the closeness didn't. I felt Micca's breath on my ear as her quiet voice resumed the story.

Micca took time describing each stage of the fairy tale Princess's penetration, her feelings of fullness, the pushing that widened her body's entryway, the probing deep inside her. Her words guided my masturbation – but it wasn't really masturbation, it was something with Micca and about her, even if the touch on my genitals was my own. Micca's words made me want the sense of being entered, much more than was usual for me. Soon, my hand curled way under, so my finger could press all the way in. I felt Micca's hand do the same, and I added pressure with the thigh I held against between her legs.

I'm not sure what I expected, since I knew that Micca wasn't comfortable with sex words even in the midst of sex. I hoped she would stay away from those weird euphemisms that some romance writers concoct, and she did that too. For all that, Micca used the most explicit descriptions of the Princess's coercion and unwilling arousal. I easily imagined every increment of advance into her body, and every tremor of her womb's answer. The story had me rocking hard against her leg, my fingers curling inside and my toes curling in response.

"Micca," I breathed in her ear, "let me come. Please."

Her grip on my shoulders tightened. The story, like the Princess in it, worked quickly towards a climax. Just when my body went taut with orgasm, Micca spoke the words into my ear. The story's Princess came in shattering waves, just as I did. My peak passed, leaving me gasping against Micca's strong, soft curves. I still felt her fingers between us, caressing herself, and I felt them slow when the story ended.

"Now you, Micca. I want to feel you come, too." 

"Yes, Lin." The little motion turned fast again, as I pulled her hips against my thigh. I shifted my touch from myself to her breast, and felt the thickness of her areola between my fingers. When I tightened my fingers around the firm button of her nipple, I felt Micca's teeth against my shoulder. She mewed, almost too softly to hear, as orgasm rose inside her.

The peak of intensity passed in a few moments, but Micca kept plucking at the little aftershocks left behind. I held her, cooing sounds of affection and encouragement. She answered with new moans as each wave crested across her clitoris. Soon, even those passed.

We kept our hold on each other, but not so closely as before. I drifted in a happy haze, letting sleep rise around me. Before I sank into it, though, I heard Micca one more time.

"Thank you, Lin."

----

A crack of thunder startled me awake. Dim, grey light cam through the window, dawn muted by the storm. It was a real storm, too, with buckets of rain pounding against the glass. It hadn't awakened Micca, though. I unlaced my arms and legs from her sleeping form, replaced the blanket over her, and got up. I put that big T-shirt on, the one that Micca said showed my 'cute little buns.' The usual dots of red and green LEDs didn't appear in the kitchenette or living area, meaning the power was still out. I could see just well enough to light a candle. I checked that there was plenty left, even after using it last night, then pulled out some aluminum foil to make a hood for the candle. That would direct its light where I needed it, but keep the direct glare out of my eyes. 

I silently blessed the gas stove again. I had to light it with a match, but at least I could heat water for coffee. I didn't know how long the power would be out, so I scouted the fridge. I wanted to use up the things that would go bad first. Eggs, a little cheese, a few frozen peas already thawing, leftover rice, some chopped onion – it sounded like a frittata to me. I got out a bowl and a big frying pan, and started on it.

Just about the time I was pouring water into the coffee press, Micca started stirring. The robe I wore last night was the closest, easiest thing for her to put on. She was wearing that when she showed up beside me, with an arm around my waist. 

"What's that?" she asked. "Whatever it is, it smells good."

I held her arm around me and answered. "I figured a frittata would use up leftovers fastest. It will be ready in a few minutes, if you let me get to it."

She planted a kiss on my cheek and said, "Don't let me get in the way of progress. Especially not when it's my breakfast we're talking about."

Micca pulled forks from a drawer, unrolled two 'napkins' off a roll of paper towels, and went to set the table. I heard her light more candles and saw the room brighten a little. Once the frittata started cooking, I poured Micca's coffee and brought it over to her. I stood behind her chair and draped my arms over her shoulders. While she clutched the mug to warm her hands, I leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

Then I bent lower and whispered, "That was wonderful last night. I really liked your story." Micca didn't answer in words, but set the mug down and held my hands over her chest.

A few minutes later, the frittata was a golden-brown masterpiece. I cut it in two and served. We chatted idly as we ate, mostly about the galleries we saw yesterday. The storm continued, getting worse if anything. One flash of lightning lit the room, and a hammer-blow of thunder followed almost immediately. We both jumped – that one was nearby.

As we ate, Micca and I reached over to touch each other often: holding a hand or stroking a thigh. That warmth and closeness from yesterday remained, as did Micca's uncommon attentiveness. She sipped the last of her coffee and watched me as I cleared the table, apparently eying my 'cute little buns.' Once the dirties were in the sink, I came back to the table. I stood behind Micca again, but this time I reached around so I could rub the sides of her breasts. She sank back into her chair with a happy sigh. More thunder, farther this time, reminded us of the downpour outside.

As I stroked her, I said "I'm really not up for going out in this weather."

"Mmm. Me neither."

"And, with the power out, there's not a lot we can do indoors."

"I can think of something." Micca shifted my hands to the fronts of her breasts as she spoke. 

I bent over and kissed her head again. "You insatiable sweetie. I like the way you think." I accepted the implicit invitation and repositioned my hands again. This time, I spread the lapels of the robe she was wearing and held her breasts directly. Then, in her era, "And I really liked your story last night. Do you have any others for me?"

Micca raised her own hands to cover mine, holding them against her softness. Her cheek rubbed against my arm, and she answered, "I don't know, I never tried making up stories like that before."

I moved a hand under each of her breasts and lifted them. My thumbs stroked her nipples, and I felt them tighten at the touch. "How about Lady Margrave?" I referred to a particularly steamy romance novel, the one that had catalyzed our sexual relationship.

"What do you mean?"

"We could read the story out loud, or one of us could read and one follow along with what Lady Margrave does in the story."

Micca wriggled and one hand move between her legs at the thought. Her other hand held mine even tighter against her breast. "Oh, wow. That was the sexiest thing I ever read. Uh, Lin?"

"Yes?"

"Could I read and you do it? After yesterday …"

"You're sore?"

"No, just rubbed a little too much inside. I don't want to get sore."

"I understand. This is going to be fun." I could feel my labia start to thicken in anticipation.

Micca went straight to the bookshelf and picked it out, even though the book titles could barely be seen in the dim light. She obviously knew just where it was. I saw the book flop open in her hand, too. After many readings, it always opened to the same spot, the one we wanted.

I went to the bathroom to get a towel and almost bumped into Micca on the way out.

"Doesn't this take place in her bath?" Micca asked.

"Yes, but I figured the bed would be easier. It doesn't make that much difference, does it?"

"I guess not." Micca went back into the room and started moving the candles to the bedside table. I got the towel, along with the little bottle I keep hidden at the back of the bathroom closet. I spread the towel on the bed to make cleanup easier. Then I went to the cabinet and got two small dishes. I poured a thick, clear puddle into each from the little bottle. After I closed the bottle, I carried the dishes over to the bed. 

Micca cocked an eyebrow and asked, "What's that?" 

I took a few drops between thumb and forefinger, then rubbed them together to demonstrate. I held one of the dishes out to Micca, and she cautiously did the same. "That's nice and slippery! I know what that's for." 

I set the dishes on the bed, one on each side of the towel, and said "Let's get started." Micca began to read. 

Once her gown had been put properly away, Lady Margrave dismissed her loyal servant. "Nothing more this evening, Fanny. I'll see you in the morning."

"Very good, m'um." Fanny bowed a little as she said it, then turned, closed the door behind her, and retreated down the hall. Even before the footsteps faded away, Lady Margrave finished undressing, then turned to the mirror.

I didn't have a mirror, but stood next to the bed and posed, as if Micca were the mirror. Micca suppressed a giggle and went on reading.

On the whole, Lady Margrave – Iliana – liked what she saw …

 

I acted out the scene, turning this way and that as if admiring myself in a mirror. Following along with the story, I cupped my breasts as if testing whether they drooped. (Mine? Not likely, but it was in the story.) I turned around, too, as Lady Margrave examined the curve of her hip. Mine was muscled from running, not the Lady's horseback riding, but flexed nicely just as the Lady's did. Micca watched as I posed, and almost forgot to keep reading when I turned my backside toward her.

Iliana turned from the gilt mirror towards her bath. The floral scent and steamy warmth invited her to leave behind the cares of her day, and to enjoy the sensual solitude … 

I lay down on the bed, next to Micca. She remained seated, but turned towards me. I adjusted the towel under my hips as she continued reading.

The soap formed a slick film on Iliana's skin. Her hands slid easily across the curves of her shoulders and downward towards her breasts. The frictionless touch allowed Iliana to massage her breasts deeply, and even slide across the rising pink paps …

My 'paps' are more brown than pink, but I stroked them as the story suggested. I was surprised at how easily I entered the spirit of the story. My arousal rose as Micca's voice continued, narrating the fictional Lady's self-stimulation.

"Micca?"

She stopped reading for a moment. "Yes?"

"Kiss my breast. Please." I lifted it from the side so that it mounded on my chest. Not a very big mound, maybe, but just enough that my nipple clearly sat at the top. Micca set the book face down on the bed and leaned over. Her mouth absorbed the whole width of my areola; gentle suction tugged at it, with extra pressure from her hidden tongue. My other hand held the other nipple and rolled it between thumb and fingertip. Her touch and mine combined somehow into a tingle between my legs.

"Oh, I like that. Could you read some more? And keep touching me while you read?"

Micca sat up again, she adjusted her legs under herself so she was kneeling. She picked up the book one-handed (the way I always read that part!), and reached the other hand toward my breast. 

Iliana lifted her hips from the water. Candle-lit droplets sparkled like jewels in the dark curls below her belly's lowest curve. She admired them for a moment, then worked scented soap into the tuft …

I had shaven my own 'tuft' away, but shifted my touch to my mons. I massaged that while the Lady shampooed hers. Iliana went on, pressing firmly against the 'little cheeks' between her legs, and I followed along greedily. Her washcloth parted the 'softly furred folds' and my touch went between mine, un-furred though they were. 

The voluptuous feeling soon had its effect. Iliana set the cloth aside and touched herself directly. Her mysterious bud of passion …

If I wasn't already so excited, I would have burst out laughing. Where do these writers get these phrases? 

And where do they get these heroines who reach the verge of orgasm after just a few strokes? "Micca, could you slow down for a moment. I need to catch up."

She stopped, and gave me a sheepish look. "I'm sorry, I just …"

"It's not you," I reassured her, "The book just moves faster than I do." Micca set the book aside again. Her hand left my breast when she did.

"You can keep touching me like that. I was really enjoying it." She took up her gentle grip on my nipple. "And you can touch yourself, too." I had seen her hand edging toward her own breast, then away again. I'm not sure why she needed my permission. Wordlessly, she cupped her own breast so that the nipple showed between her fingers, and the fingers scissored together. Seeing that only turned me on more.

Tension cycled through my hips in a slow, building rhythm. Soon, I felt myself as close to my climax as the Lady was to hers "Could you read some more?"

Iliana felt her crisis impend. Soon, its strength became greater than hers – it captured her and commanded her. Shouts of wordless gratitude echoed within the bathing chamber as the climax cradled her in its relentless grasp. 

I'm not the screamer the Lady is – I've lived in apartments too long. My orgasm came right on cue, though. Micca stopped reading when it did, so she could give all her attention to me. I smiled back at her loving looks. It helped me ignore the silliness of the book's description. 

My moment passed, just as the Lady's did. Micca asked, "Should I continue?" 

We both knew what was coming next. I nodded, even as I kneaded my vulva in anticipation.

Iliana relaxed into the warm bath. She luxuriated in the afterglow of her spending. Her hand remained on her womanhood, though. Her body held such riches that more remained to spend.

Lady Margrave half-rose from her scented bath. An elegant arm reached out to the nearest candle. She lifted it from its holder and pinched it out. Then, she lowered its rounded end toward her opened body …

I did much the same, but took a moment to pour out the melted wax around the wick. Unlike commercial candles, this hand-dipped one really did have a rounded end like the Lady's.

Even though her body's nectar flowed freely, Iliana spread an herbal balm across the slim shaft. Then, when it touched the doorway to her womanly garden, it entered as comfortably as a lord enters his own manor.

I rolled the end of the candle in one of the dishes of slippery stuff. Holding my labia open with the other hand, I spread it across the entrance to my vagina. I dipped and spread a few more times, creating a thick coating of slickness. My knees bent outward as I reached low with the candle, aligning it with the canal inside me. Its end settled into the soft, deep spot between my legs. I lay back, looking up at Micca.

Then I pressed. The candle's smooth shape and slippery surface went into me easily. Micca gasped, as if it were entering her body. Her free hand had moved between her legs by that time, and her knees had parted to allow access.

I pulled the candle out a little, then pressed it deeper. "Keep reading, Micca. Please!"

With a little jolt, Micca came back to herself. She continued the narration of Iliana's penetration. Soon, the candle inside her pressed against 'that seat of most exquisite sensation.' It sounded like her G-spot, though of course the romance writer wouldn't use that word. I couldn't quite find mine with the little shaft, but enjoyed the feeling anyway. I clenched myself tight around it and felt it resist me. Unlike Iliana, I used my other hand on my clitoris. 

Micca looked up at me from her reading, then looked down to where the waxy shaft disappeared into my vagina. Her eyes got wide. "My god, is all that inside of you?" 

I smiled, closed my eyes, and pressed again. Micca inhaled with a hiss as I did. Really, only four or five inches of it had gone in. There was another inch or two to go before it would be too much. I let go of the candle, leaving it sticking half-way out of me, and reached for Micca's hand. She seemed almost hypnotized as I wrapped her grip around it, and said "You do it. I want to feel you do it."

She seemed almost scared to move her hand at first, so I guided her. Together, we tilted it inside me, side to side or up and down. We pulled it back just a fraction, then pushed inward even more. Soon, I felt Micca take over, leading rather than following my lead. At that, I went back to massaging my clitoris and left her to work the phallus inside me. 

I looked over and saw that her legs had parted even more. Her hand played furiously over her vulva, and I saw muscles bunching in her legs and lower body. She was as close as I was. 

I felt it rising within me. My mouth opened and, with the last breath I could call my own, I whispered, "You come now. For me." Then incredible feelings filled me. Micca pressed the toy farther than ever into me, touching something deep and secret. I pressed my clitoris hard and fast. A moment later, Micca's orgasm joined mine. Her hand stopped moving when inner feelings overcame her, but that was OK. I saw orgasm in her face, and loved the way we gasped out our pleasure together. Sharing that intensity with her moved the moment to a whole new level. It moved our friendship to a new level.

After cresting, we climbed down from our peaks together. I put my hand on Micca's again, holding the candle, and withdrew it slowly. I heard her panting like I was, giving her body a moment to bask in the happiness and to recover. Looking up at her, I said "Come here, you." Once she leaned close enough, I guided her down to a kiss. It went on and on, softness touching softness. She leaned her head on my chest for a while, absorbing the contact between us.

I brushed at her hair, then said. "There's more. Let's keep going"

Micca sat up, cocked an eyebrow at me, and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Let's do the whole thing."

Micca picked up the book, found her place, and resumed. 

Once Eros was done with Iliana, at least for the moment, her mind wandered as it always did in such moments. She thought of past lovers and of lovers yet to be. And, as she so often did, she thought of Sir Richard Ennis-Botham, one of the few at court, man or woman, that she had not seduced. His preferences, though widely known, were rarely commented on. They did, however, make it seemingly impossible for him to be seduced by a person such as Iliana – a female person.

This time, however, her thoughts went farther than they had gone before. She imagined him with a lover, taking him or being taken in the Greek manner, something she regarded with curiosity rather than distaste. This, Iliana realized, lay within her abilities, although she had never explored that region of Venus's realm before. 




Pretty Lin Ch. 04



"If he won't touch Iliana, perhaps Ilya can seduce him." A masque would be held soon. Iliana would dress as a man and try to get Dick Ennis-Botham that way.

Just as she had prepared herself for the deflowering of a woman's usual kind, she determined to ready herself for this other manner of intercourse. Iliana picked up the candle again, from where she had set it down, and …

"You really want me to continue?" Micca's confidence seemed to wither by the moment. 

This was almost as new to me as it was to Micca. Not all of the butterflies in my stomach came from excitement. But, for some reason, I felt a need to challenge Micca, to expose her to even more ways explore a body. I wondered then – was that the reason for the attentiveness I had been seeing in her? The hope that I would make some new request of her, so she could feel that the choice was not really hers? It seemed silly, of course, the choice was always hers. Still, sex seemed to cause confused feelings for her even as she opened herself to the experience. 

I made my voice sound forceful. "Yes, Micca. Keep reading. And keep touching yourself."

She obediently picked up the book, opened her legs, and settled her hand between them again. I heard a tremor in her voice, which could simply have been her arousal trembling within her.

Following the Lady's lead, I lubricated myself thoroughly. I dipped the candle in the clear gel then touched it to my bottom, over and over. Each time, I pressed the rounded end to my anus. A fraction at a time, each touch went a little deeper. The slickness made its way reasonably comfortable, the tapered shape made its entry inevitable. The moment soon came. I said her name, "Micca."

She looked up at me. When she did, I pressed the probe into my rear canal. It didn't go in far, just an inch or two, but it was in. All motion stopped for a moment, except for the muscles inside me. They clenched and released, creating a whole range of sensations by themselves. I let out a long breath.

"Are you OK?" Micca reached out toward me.

"Yes, I'm OK. It doesn't hurt, like people said it would. I just have to get used to it." After a moment, I felt ready to start again. I started pumping it in motions and eased in by tiny steps. "Read more, please," I asked. "And you do you, too."

I played with the feelings as the slim stick went deeper into me. I tilted it, shifted it side to side, and rotated it. I gripped it, almost the way I would with my vagina, and felt its solid resistance. Then, when the Lady did, I put my other hand to my vulva. 

Sometimes, when I masturbated, I wanted a full feeling in my vagina. My fingers gave me what I wanted those times. This fullness added at least as much to my masturbation as that other fullness ever did. But this time, there was the extra thrill of doing something naughty and new, and of making Micca a part of my exploration.

Micca started on the Lady's 'crisis' just when my own orgasm was ready to blossom. One last push, the deepest I though I could stand, and orgasm burst through me. I was louder than ever before, causing Micca to look up with a concerned expression. When she saw me, though, she dropped the book, took one of my nipples in her hand, and bent down to kiss me. The extra touch, the teeth on my lower lip just drove me farther. I had never come like that before in my life.

Soon, I collapsed. It left me as quickly as it had come, leaving me as limp as a dishrag. I didn't even have the strength to pull the candle out. I felt like a mounted butterfly, pinned in place by the little wax stake.

I saw Micca's hand between her legs, but not moving. "Are you going to come too?"

"I don't know," she answered. She fingered herself experimentally, seeing what sensations she could stir.

"Let's try." She was still kneeling, with her legs well away from each other. I could see that her position held her labia open, so the inner lips dangled in silhouette. Her touch on her own body took on a more determined look, as she worked to comply with my request. I reached between her legs, too. 

At first, I just took her inner petals between my fingertips and played gently. My fingers tended to stick, though. I reached for the other dish of lube, the one I hadn't touched yet, and put it on the bed under her. I wet my fingers in the thick syrup, then reached up to her labia again.

Micca flinched. "Cold," she said, then relaxed into my touch again. The slippery film made it easy for me to explore every part of her vulva, adding to her own attention to her clitoris. I had the first joint of my finger in her vagina, not deep enough to feel the band that defines its interior, when the idea occurred to me. I let her go, wet my finger thoroughly in the dish, and reach upward, farther back than before. By pure luck, my finger went straight to the little pucker between her cheeks.

She startled, and I felt her bottom try to clench around my touch. It was spread too wide to close around me, though. Her face carried a surprised look and she almost yelped my name, "Lin!"

"Yes?" I smiled at her. I did not press deeper into her, but did not release my touch, either.

"You're touching my behind!"

"Yes, Micca. I am. Is that a problem?"

Indecision played on her face for a while. Soon it left, replaced by an expression I couldn't quite identify. "No, Lin. It's not a problem. It's what you just did, right?" I heard submission in her voice, but eagerness too.

"Pretty much, yes."

"And you liked it?"

"Oh, yes!" I wiggled my finger a little, but couldn't identify any response.

"OK Lin. Go ahead. You can touch me there." She still couldn't use body words, even when I held her in the most intimate way. With that, she looked down, closed her eyes, and started petting herself again.

"Micca, you're a love." I dipped my finger again and probed her again. She flinched again, but less. I drew a tiny circle with my finger, feeling the ball of my finger start to spread the crinkled fold open. I worked like that, getting more lube on my finger frequently, and working inward by tiny steps. 

Soon, velvety folds encircled the whole first joint of my finger. A ring of muscle appeared at the tip of my finger. I pressed against it. Micca gave a little gasp, then relaxed again. I approached this the same way I had gotten as far in as I did. I wet my finger, keeping everything slick, and pressed into her again. I felt muscles quivering inside of Micca, as if to repel this unfamiliar invasion. Then, in a deliberate effort, Micca relaxed herself. The tiny circle widened, and the whole first part of my finger went truly within her. She gasped again and froze for a moment. I held still too, feeling the tissues inside grasp me, slide along my finger, and release. Soon, even that quieted. 

Lin opened her eyes and looked at me. "Oh." It took her a moment to find her voice. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Do you like it?"

"It's, well, different." I started to pull out, as slowly as I had entered her. "No, leave it. I just need a moment." Soon, Micca started petting herself again. This time, it seemed easier for her, not something she was making herself do. The way she nibbled her lower lip told me that this was genuine arousal – she always does that when she's turned on.

I started playing again, too. Now that I was in, I wasn't going to pull out again. I didn't want anything to go wrong getting back in. My finger was very slick, though, and lots of extra slickness coated my finger and the place where it had entered. A bit at a time, the second joint of my finger went in, and finally part of the third. My hand cupped the cheeks of her bottom while the middle, longest finger played inside.

I felt contractions begin within her again. These were steady and strong, though, not the irregular twitching I had felt before. Micca's body had started working its way toward another climax. Each time she tightened around my finger, my own bottom tightened sympathetically and reminded me of the candle still implanted within. I reached for a pretty, pink nipple with my other hand, tugged it, and felt her orgasm crystallize around my intrusion, a place she had never been touched before.

Just looking at her, you might not have known that it happened. I could feel her inner tension, though, could feel its throbbing, the strength of its peak, and its gradual release. Her eyes opened again. It seemed to take her a moment to orient herself, then she looked down at me. I still held her bottom and held my finger as far in as it would go.

Carefully, she leaned over, took my face in her hands, and gave me the slowest, most sensual kiss I have ever felt. Then she leaned down, so her cheek lay on my breast like a pillow. She looked up at me and said, "That was incredible." Saying even that much seemed use up her remaining strength. I still felt an occasional twitch around my finger, with matching twitches where the candle still penetrated my body. I curled my finger in side her and said her full name, "Michaela."

She looked at me. "Mmm?"

I wiggled again. "This is mine now, isn't it?"

She clenched in acknowledgment. "Yes, Lin, this is yours."

We lay there for a moment, letting the feeling linger in each of us and between us. Then I said, "Let's go clean up."



Pretty Lin



"Shh." A finger touched my lips to quiet me, and I immediately took the tip into my mouth. "Stay with me pretty one, stay with me." 

Her touch stayed light, but quickened as I had seen before. Each flurry of motion left my whole body taut, nearly sobbing. "C'mon, pretty one, come to me. You can do it, just stay with me." 

That might have been the biggest act of trust in my life, letting Lin lead me into - well, I didn't know what. "OK," I whispered, still moaning. I didn't relax, quite the opposite, but turned myself over to her. Then the next wave came over me. 

This one didn't stop, there was no respite at the end of it. Instead, it launched me to a height I could never have imagined. My mouth opened, gasping loudly, and I grabbed the sheets so hard my fingers hurt. Lin's fine, fast fingerdance didn't stop. That delicate touch pushed me into something I could never have found on my own, with the happy patter of her voice guiding me along. I don't know what she was saying and don't think it mattered. It was just a connection between us, a lifeline that let me know she was still there with me and for me. Then, in a series of sharp, loud breaths, my body started to deflate. My fists and torso unclenched, and my legs backed off from the verge of cramping. Lin's controlling touch at my clitoris stopped moving and just held; her mouth on my breast just pulled with a gentle, even pressure. I hugged her close as I collapsed in on myself, half-laughing and half-sobbing.

Her caress turned into gentle grasp, and she held on while the last of the aftershocks had their way with me. She peppered my face with little kisses, and her leg slid back between mine to maintain the touch against my pubis. "That was beautiful." I didn't try to answer - my voice wasn't my again, not yet.

Still sprawled across me, I felt Lin's body soften into sleep. He breath came long and even, and warmed my breast as she exhaled. I was too energized for sleep - or so I thought. Some time just after that, I don't known when, I was asleep, too.

------

I awoke gradually. My first sensation was Lin's intimate touch again, opening me just a little. Waking awareness seemed to widen around that point, to encompass the feelings within my own body: excited fullness in my labia, a damp spot forming down low, tension all through my pelvis, that wonderful new kind of tension. Farther from that heated center, I felt Lin's muscled legs scissor one of mine, her hips moving slightly against me. Above that, a hand cupped my breast, and a shifting grasp made milking motions at the nipple. I had been having the most erotic dream. Because it matched so closely what Lin was really doing, I had no idea where dream stopped and the waking world began.

My body was already well along its path to excitement when I awoke. I opened my eyes to pearly dawn light, and looked down at Lin's glossy, dark hair. I was already gasping. Another delicious wave washed over me, and Lin's caress turned to frenzy when it did. She knew my pace perfectly - push, push, push, but stop at the edge of too much. Then, a moment later, her touch would push me toward my limits again. This time, the heel of her hand seemed to rock against my clitoris and her fingers pressed lower down, across the outer edge of my vagina. I couldn't work all that out at the time, though, I just knew that she was touching more than she touched last night, and I was responding more. 

He fingers didn't penetrate me. Instead, they pressed across my opening. I felt a little knot of muscle just inside, and she seemed to massage that. Her fingers slid across the wetness in silky movements, at the same time she pressed with unrelenting pressure against my clitoris. I felt my arms reach out and grasp the side of the bed. Lin had roused that sleeping sweet monster inside me again. I could do little more than watch as she and it communed in a silent give and take.

Then that monster rose and roared Something came from my voice, half moan and half scream, as it convulsed my body. Even muscle in me drew to its tightest pitch. Then, abruptly, everything tightened another notch, all at once. Lin had pierced me, deep and fast, with one of her slender fingers. I was so slick inside that there was no friction at all. My throat locked shut with a final yelp, and the forming orgasm exploded. The hand at my clitoris drove me forward, the finger deep inside staked me to one spot. Everything moved and froze within me, all at once. That finger, curling deep inside, seemed to take me over. I trembled for as long as she made me tremble.

That huge presence inside me started to fade. I barely noticed it passing, at first, until my shoulders uncurled enough for my head to touch the pillow again. Lin felt it passing, too. She didn't stop her ministrations, but I felt them slow, I felt less urgency in them. Her hand still pressed my pubis and her finger remained inside, but stopped moving. It had happened again - my second orgasm, even bigger than my midnight first. Her mouth let go of my nipple, and she looked up at me with a brilliant smile. 

"Hi."

"Hi," I answered. I couldn't trust myself to say more.

"That was pretty special, wasn't it?"

I answered in some inarticulate, happy gasp, and slumped softly. That hand cupping me and the probe inside me still hadn't let go. Her touch answered me with extra pressure; I answered back by pressing it her hand even more firmly against me.

Lin looked back down and lay her cheek against the pillow of my breast. "This is mine now." A wiggle inside showed what she was referring to.

"Yes, it's yours." If I had understood what I was saying - well, I might still have said it. Lin showed me the meaning of those words over the next weeks and months, meaning I could never have guessed.



Pretty Little Slayers



Author's note: This is a crossover story that takes place long after Buffy the Vampire Slayer/during S5 of Pretty Little Liars, at which point the characters are all over 18.

*

Aria Montgomery was running. At first she was running towards something, now she was running away from something. That may sound like it was meant to be deep and philosophical, or at least trying to be, but this wasn't Aria trying to impress her teacher or Spencer showing off, this was real. She was literally running away from someone who might be A. Or just someone in a black hoodie she had made the mistake of following into the woods. Whatever the case when he had turned around he... she... it had looked really weird, and she could have sworn it growled at her.

The next thing she knew she was running, and someone or something was chasing her. When she looked over her shoulder it looked like a man, but the sounds he made sounded frighteningly inhuman. Then, just to prove once and for all she was in a bad monster movie, or hopefully a frightening dream, she tripped over a rogue tree root and drove herself face first into the dirt. Immediately she tried to flip over and crawl away but the thing was on top of her in a heartbeat, monstrous jaws diving for her neck. So, a wild beast then. Good to know.

Forgetting every single karate and self-defence lesson she'd ever had Aria punch the thing in the face as hard as she could, figuring if she was going to die at least she could postponed the inevitable a little. Instead the animal went flying off of her, a sickening crunch echoing throughout the darkness as Aria swore she could feel something breaking underneath her knuckles.

Within seconds she was on her feet and breaking off a branch from the tree which had tripped her as if it was a blade of grass. The thing, whatever it was, was on its feet too, and it was snarling and charging her again. This time she didn't run, or scream, or even flinch. No, she just drove the branch into her attacker. As in, she slammed the branch directly into his chest, somehow finding enough force to break through the skin and deep into his insides. Suddenly he looked very human and surprised, and then he just disappeared. Or he exploded, Aria genuinely wasn't sure which.

All Aria knew was she found herself standing in the middle of nowhere clutching a branch in her hand, covered in dirt and dust and with her heart racing. In a way she had never felt more alive, but at the same time she had never been more afraid or confused, her big eyes searching her surroundings as if she was expecting her friends or some ass hole from school to jump out and scream surprise.

After minutes passed and that didn't happen Aria found herself murmuring, "What the hell was that?"

*

Many miles away a redheaded Witch opened her eyes and grinned, "Found her!"

*

Spencer Hastings had always been a light sleeper. Something about having trouble shutting off her brain, or being affected by all the coffee she drank, or some combination of both. Of course the last couple of years she had been constantly on edge, the slightest sound normally waking her from her slumber. So it really freaked her out to feel something on her shoulder, the lanky brunette freaking out as she shot upwards in bed and prepared to scream bloody murder and/or attack whoever it was who thought sneaking into her room was ok.

Her scream died on her lips before she even really made a noise and her body relaxed as she recognised the intruder as her closest friend Aria Montgomery, one of the few people who could get away with waking her in the middle of the night given what they had been going through for the past two years. And from the look on her face this was very much an emergency, Spencer's brief moment of relaxation quickly forgotten as her eyes properly focused in the dark and she noticed that Aria's beautiful face was a mask of tears.

"Aria, what happened?" Spencer asked, cautiously reaching for the other girl.

Breaking down Aria just crumpled into Spencer's arms and wept furiously for a solid minute. It was terrifying, Spencer's mind racing with all the possibilities of what could possibly have happened, and thanks to A she thought of some pretty horrific stuff. Trying to put that aside for now she glanced at her clock, surprised to see it was four o'clock in the morning. How did Aria get inside her house? Was one of her parents awake? And why didn't Aria call? And was there something in her hand? It felt like there was something in her hand, one of the shorter brunette's hands clutching her while the other was clutching something else which was also pressed against her back.

"I did it again." Aria whimpered suddenly, breaking Spencer from her thoughts.

Frowning Spencer pulled back, "What did you do Aria?"

"I, I..." Aria stammered.

"What's that?" Spencer asked, turning Aria's handover to reveal a crumpled piece of metal, "Is... is that a doorknob?"

"It... it just kind of, broke away in my hand. I didn't mean to, I just..." Aria stammered, before focusing on what was important, "Spencer... I killed someone. Again."

Spencer's eyes were wide, "What? When? Where? Who? What? I mean, what happened?"

"I don't know!" Aria exclaimed, tossing the piece of metal aside and breaking Spencer's lamp in the process, "Sorry, I... I just... it all happened so fast. At first I thought I was finally getting the drop on A, but then he turned around and it was like, he wasn't human or something. He made this weird sound, he chased me, and then... and then I just killed him."

"So it was self defence?" Spencer breathed a sigh of relief, resisting the urge to add just like Shana.

"You aren't listening, I killed someone! Again! It doesn't matter why, I'm now a freaking serial killer." Aria practically yelled.

"Well, technically you have to kill three people to be considered a serial killer." Spencer said, her analytical brain causing her to put her foot in her mouth as usual, and when she had realised that was what she had done she quickly added, "Not that it would count if it was self defence, and if it was him or you then you did what you had to do Aria."

"That doesn't make it better." Aria argued, and after a long pause sighed in despair, "There isn't even a body anymore."

Spencer frowned, "What? You mean you went back and someone took the body?" 

"No, like... it just went poof. One moment it was there, the next it... wasn't." Aria murmured, and then when Spencer gave her a look she added, "I know how it sounds, but I'm telling you the truth. I've now officially killed two people and, and... and how can I possibly live with that?"

"Hey, hey, hey! I believe you, ok?" Spencer lied to her friend, before then telling her the truth, "And you didn't do anything wrong. It was self-defence. You're a good person, and an amazing friend. You saved all of us in New York, and I am so, so grateful. You did the right thing Aria, never doubt that."

There was a long pause, then Aria smiled softly and leaned her head against Spencer's in a sign everything was going to be ok. Spencer still wasn't 100% sure, but from the looks of it Aria just had a really bad dream brought on by PTSD which she was understandably experiencing after what happened in New York. So it was the least Spencer could do to comfort her friend in her time of need.

"You smell really good." Aria suddenly mumbled.

Spencer was a little court off-guard, but she smiled and thanked Aria for the compliment, "Thanks, I guess."

Aria was feeling really, really confused. She had no idea what was happening to her, and what happened earlier felt like a bad dream or a really bad hallucination, but all of a sudden she wasn't terrified anymore. She wasn't worried what she had done, what it meant for her future, or how she was going to live with it. In that moment her entire world became wrapped around a sudden overwhelming sensation and the need to do something about it.

So Aria lent forward and pressed her lips to Spencer's. She kissed her best friend completely out of nowhere and seemingly for no reason, Aria's eyes going wide as saucers she realised what she was doing. Pulling back she tried to brush it off as just a weird friendly thank you for the kind words, except her suddenly dry mouth seemed incapable of forming even one single word.

Panicking she tried to move away, but Spencer grabbed her firmly and murmured, "No! Aria don't go. I... we, you-"

Aria couldn't talk about this. She just couldn't. So if Spencer wasn't going to let her leave she was going to have to shut her up, and the only way to do that was by kissing her again. Somehow this made sense to her on some weird, crazy level. But honestly it was like she wasn't in control of her own body anymore, or at least that's what Aria choose to tell herself. There was some truth to it though, as like before some type of instinct took over and she didn't think about what she was doing, she was just doing it.

Then Spencer started kissing her back, slowly and cautiously at first, but then they were properly making out like this really meant something. The next thing Aria knew was that she was pushing Spencer down and pinning the tall brunette to the bed with her tiny frame. Then she was pushing her hand downwards, and suddenly she knew Spencer was wet. Spencer's pussy was wet against her hand, Aria rubbing her friend first through the thin fabric of her pyjamas, then her hands slipped underneath that fabric so she could touch the bare flesh.

Spencer let out a pathetic sounding whimper, first when Aria touched her down there through her pyjamas, and then a loud whimper when the other brunette's hand invaded her nightwear. Luckily she was whimpering into Aria's mouth so hopefully no one heard her, Spencer desperately trying to keep herself quiet as the tiny but surprisingly strong brunette started rubbing her pussy lips and making her feel ridiculously good.

Perhaps keeping quiet shouldn't have been Spencer's number one priority right now, but it was because God dammit this was so fucking hot. So it didn't matter that this seemed out of nowhere, that her friend wasn't acting like herself, or her parents and sister were only a few feet away within the thin walls separating them. It didn't even matter that she was cheating on her boyfriend, even though she did feel a little guilty about that. Then again Spencer was beginning to believe this was just a really vivid wet dream, given it seemed the logical explanation for all of this.

After all, Aria Montgomery was a straight as an arrow. The tiny teen had spend what felt like an eternity obsessed with her now ex-teacher/ex-boyfriend Ezra Fitz. Even now they were broken up she talked about him all the time and they so drawn to each other it seemed like no one else had a chance. Which was kind of a good thing because Aria was one of the closest friends she'd ever had, and Spencer didn't want to ruin it by revealing the crush she had been harbouring on her tiny friend since before Alison faked her death. So while this seemed like a dream come true, it had to be just another one of those inappropriate wet dreams that she would feel guilty about when she woke up. Right?

The finger which entered her felt very real, as did the second, third and eventually fourth, but honestly at that point Spencer was beyond trying to analyse what was going on. All she ended up caring about was her own pleasure, Spencer becoming lost in the vision of the straightest girl she'd ever known finger fucking her to lesbian heaven, those tiny digits pounding in and out of her with what felt like inhuman speed and power. Then the most powerful climax of her life rushed through her, Spencer's back arching off the bed while the only reason she didn't wake up the whole neighbourhood was because Aria kissd her again.

Somewhere inside her mind there was a voice telling Aria to stop. Spencer was her best friend, and a girl, and neither of them were gay, and the other brunette had a boyfriend, and even though Spencer was kissing her back, and moaning, and pushing her pussy up into each one of Aria's finger thrusts she was basically forcing herself on one of her closest friends like some kind of creepy date rapist. Not that they had even gone on a date, the idea of it making Aria blush.

It would be nice, Aria had to admit to herself. She and Spencer had always clicked, always finding something to talk about no matter how many hours they spent together, so there would be no awkward small talk and she now knew that Spencer was a really, really good kisser. Wait, what was she thinking? What was she doing? Why was there so much liquid on her fingers? And why was Spencer shaking, and screaming so loudly into her mouth and, OH GOD, she was making Spencer cum! She was making her best friend cum! She was making another girl cum!"

Just then Spencer broke the kiss and deliriously whimpered, "Harder! Mmmmmm, harder! Oh my God Aria it feels so good! Fuck me! Ohhhhhhhh my Gooooodddddd fuck me harder and make me cum again!"

Aria's eyes were wide. Spencer... wanted this? She wanted Aria to fuck her? Was Spencer gay now? Was she gay now? What was going on? Why was she so fucking horny? Why did Spencer have to smell so fucking good? Why did she have to feel so good around her fingers? So tight, so wet, so right. So perfect. The perfect fit. Like Spencer was made to be finger fucked by Aria. And maybe, maybe she was just meant to be fucked by her. Or maybe Aria was just made to please Spencer, Aria's mouth watering as she imagined herself shimmying down the taller brunette's body and burying her face in Spencer's cunt so she could taste pussy for the first time in her life.

That last thought finally brought Aria to her senses, the tiny brunette slowly pulling her fingers out of her friend before practically falling off the bed. Spencer might have been calling her name in a worried tone, but it was like Aria was underwater or something, the sound barely registering as she awkwardly got to her feet, stumbled out of the room and then out of the house, before running into the night.

*

Willow Rosenberg was running to her best friend, not away from her, and rather than confused and scared she was very much excited. And she had every right to be in the circumstances. After all she had done good work and she was about to be rewarded for it, specifically with something she wanted since she was the awkward nerd in high school with no idea of the power which lay dormant inside her. It had taken her years to discover and properly harness that power, and from the looks of it all that time and effort was about to payoff like never before.

Then as she got closer to her best friend's hotel room she heard something which might jeopardise that, namely a familiar husky voice screaming, "Oooooooohhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkkk yeahhhhhhhhh, bang me, bang my ass, oooooooooh fuck!"

Rolling her eyes Willow quickened her pace, somewhat relieved to find that those screens weren't coming from her best friend's room, not that she'd seriously thought they would be. After all, there had been a time she thought something like that might have happened, but as it turns out the two oldest Slayers were not each other's type.

"Fuck me, fuck my ass, fuck my slutty Slayer ass, aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkk, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, ohhhhhhhhh shit, gape my ass wide open, mmmmmmmm, gape it good, oooooooooh fuck yes, butt fuck me like the bitch I am!"

Continuing to ignore the screams of ecstasy coming from Faith's room Willow opened the door to her friend's room, stepped inside of it and then she just stood there staring in disbelief at the sight of her best friend, The Oldest Slayer In Existence, her lover Buffy Summers completely naked. She was sitting up in her hotel bed, her back against the headboard and her legs crossed in a way which protected her most private area and accentuated the sexy little pose she was giving Willow, maybe the best part of it being that Buffy looked like she wasn't even trying.

Willow wished she could be that sexually confident, or more accurately given what she knew about the blonde be able to fake it so convincingly, but despite the fact she was now one of the most powerful beings on earth Willow Rosenberg could still be reduced to the stuttering nerd she was when she first met the infamous Buffy the Vampire Slayer by something like the sight of that forementioned Slayer naked and waiting for her.

"Bang my dyke butt, screw my slutty ass hole, mmmmmmm, treat me like your personal anal whore! Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh shit, just fuck me you bitch! Please just fuck me!"

"I did it..." Willow murmured, adding in a slightly raised voice, "I found her."

Buffy smiled warmly and tilted her head to one side, "Does it look like I doubted you?"

"N, no." Willow mumbled, again wishing that Buffy didn't have this effect on her.

"Well, then I guess you're here to collect your reward." Buffy practically purred.

"Uh-huh." Willow softly agreed, standing still for another embarrassingly long moment before closing and locking the door.

"Harder! HARDER! Make me cum you bitch! Ass fuck me harder and make me cum! Ohhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkk it feels sooooooo gooooodddddd! Soooooooo gooooooooddddddddd in my ass, oooooooohhhhhhhh Goooooooddddddddd fuck me harder!"

Holding out her hand Willow mumbled a few words in Latin and in a flash the room was completely silent, her latest spell mercifully making the rooms soundproofed. She did that without even having to pause her hurried walked to Buffy's bed, slowing down when she almost reached her destination to try and seem a little cool, although she was sure she failed dismally.

To distract from her uncoolness Willow pointed out, "You could have chosen another room, you know? Or ask me to soundproof this place sooner?"

Buffy sighed, a little annoyed that her best friend insisted on talking, but not surprised, "Soundproofing is kind of risky given our track record of being randomly attacked, and believe me, bunking next to Faith is never my first choice. Kind of appropriate though, given our first time and all."

Willow couldn't help but smile as Buffy blushed and lowered her gaze, seemingly confirming this was real life and not merely a wet dream. Although Willow was still terrified she had accidentally cast some kind of spell over her best friend in her sleep or something, because she couldn't count the amount of fantasies which had started off with her walking into a room to find a naked Buffy waiting for her. Of course in her fantasies there was never a hint of awkwardness or hesitation, which was the case now and in every other time they'd had together, including their first.

It was crazy to think it was only just over a week ago now that it had happened, Willow walking into her friend's room without knocking to find Buffy finger fucking herself to the sound of Faith getting anally reamed. From there 'one thing had lead to another' as they say until Willow had found herself with her face buried in between Buffy's legs, tongue fucking her best friend into unconsciousness. She'd been dining on Buffy's delicious pussy every night, and morning, since and now not only was she going to get another helping but she was going to get an extra special treat. But only if Buffy didn't freak out first, Willow trying to prevent that by sitting on the bed and tenderly reaching for her friend's hand.

Before she could put her hand over it, or say anything, Buffy looked up and murmured, "So, tell me about this new Slayer."

Seeing that Buffy was trying to ease the tension Willow obliged by beginning to babble, "Well, she's in a place called Rosewood, which is surrounded by some seriously bad Mojo. Not like Sunnydale bad, but it's bad. At least I don't think so, I'm not entirely sure. I think that someone might have cast some kind of cloaking spell over it, because until this Slayer was called I hadn't even sensed it, and even now even I can't get a good look at what's there or even a good look at what this new Slayer looks like, and I think I might have got lucky because she was attacked and-"




Pretty Little Slayers



Buffy broke Willow's train of thought by suddenly sitting up and kissing her. It was rough, and needy, and kind of worryingly nervous, the Slayer clearly having to force herself into this at least a little which didn't bode well. If it wasn't for her numerous successes in the past Willow would ask Buffy if she was sure about this, as in the entire friends with benefits agreement they had recently entered into, but instead she concentrated on gently decreasing the roughness of the kiss to something more gentle and relaxing.

When Buffy finally broke the kiss she seemed somewhat put at ease, smiling at the redhead before she softly murmured, "So your little protection spell worked?"

"Yeah." Willow beamed proudly, "It's pretty cool actually. If the new Slayer is upset in anyway her natural instincts will take over and she'll do whatever she needs too."

Buffy, who had taken to kissing Willow's neck, made a slightly cautious groan, "Sure, because that doesn't sound like it could possibly go wrong."

"Hey!" Willow protested, "I'm not the girl I used to be, you know?"

"I know." Buffy smiled, pecking Willow briefly on the lips before adding, "And I'm sure everything will be fine, but just in case we better make a beeline for this Rosewood place. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Willow agreed before the two friends fell back into another gentle kiss.

Willow was a great kisser, which was something Buffy never thought she'd know for sure about her best friend, but here they were. And it was still kind of weird for her, making out with her best friend who was a girl, both because she was her best friend and because she was a girl, but Willow was so good at it after a while the whole world fell away until Buffy couldn't care anymore. It was the same when it came to sex, Willow was mind numbingly good at it and after having yet another stressful day of being head of the Watchers Council Buffy was more than ready for mind numbingly good no strings attached sex.

Honestly whether it was out of stress or from Willow's skills or a combination of both Buffy found her mind melting already, the Oldest Slayer having no idea when the Superpowerful Witch lowered her down on the bed sheets and got on top of her. All she knew was one moment they were just gently kissing while sitting on the bed, and the next Willow was kissing her neck while her irritatingly still clothed body was pressing into the blonde's, Buffy incredibly embarrassed she had missed such a thing. She must be more tired than she originally thought.

"WIll, Willooooooohhhhh." Buffy moaned, hating how weak her voice sounded "You're, oh, you're wearing too many clothes."

This finally got Willow's attention, the redhead sitting up and studying her for what felt like an eternity before slowly pulling back, getting off the bed and slowly beginning to strip. Being the only one naked made Buffy feel uncomfortable, but she still wasn't sure what to make of her best friend's body. She was... well, she was a girl. Soft and curvy instead of hard and muscular, which ok, was super obvious, but Buffy had been second-guessing her attraction to women pretty much since Faith had barged her way into her life and started flirting with her.

Buffy definitely felt something as Willow's body was slowly revealed to her. In fact she felt a variety of things, but the one she chose to focus on was excitement. It didn't matter whether that excitement was created by seeing Willow strip or simply because she knew what her experienced lesbian lover could do to her, the whole point of this new and exciting arrangement was so that Buffy could forget about all her worries and concentrate on what she needed most right now in life, sex.

Trying not to blush at such slutty thoughts Buffy concentrated on curling her finger at Willow in the come-hither motion once the redhead was naked, and if that wasn't enough she flat-out said, "Come here."

Smiling happily Willow obliged, trying not to trip over herself as she crawled back onto the bed and on top of Buffy in a hopefully sexy way. Buffy certainly didn't complain, the blonde sitting up slightly so she could crash her lips against Willow's in another kiss, this one resembling a fight more than a sign of affection. It kind of took Willow by surprise, but not as much as the fact that she kind of won the 'fight' by forfeit. Or maybe she shouldn't be surprised given Buffy pulled back and looked all nervous and squirrelly again.

"Do you want me to... you know..." Buffy blushed, whispering the next part particularly low, "Go down on you?"

Unable to stop herself Willow's eyes briefly went wide, "Are, are you sure you want too? I mean, I'd love you too, but... I thought you were straight?"

Buffy shrugged, "Well... I... I'm, I'm not sure anymore. And I haven't been acting very straight lately."

Willow smiled softly, and then murmured, "Ok, yeah, but... but it's a big step. Are you sure you're ready for it?"

"No." Buffy answered truthfully, "But I haven't been very fair to you lately... just lying back and letting you do all the work. It's like, way time I returned the favour. Besides, it's like I told you the first time, I've been putting off trying things for so long, if I don't try them now I'm probably never going too."

Biting her lip Willow considered this for a long moment. This wasn't what Buffy had originally been offering, but it was just as good, if not better. It also might be a way to get out of that other thing, but if it was it was probably better to do this in the name of not forcing her best friend into the other thing. However Buffy had always seemed straight as an arrow and she was extremely nervous having Buffy trying to lick her pussy would lead to her calling off this whole thing, and that was the last thing Willow wanted to happen.

So, after racking her brain for a little while, Willow came up with a plan, "Ok, but you still seem wicked nervous, so how about this... we do things as normal at first, then we switched to a 69. That way you can get... erm, a close-up look at stuff, but you don't have to do anything if you don't want too."

For a moment Buffy seem to consider this and then she murmured, "Ok. But... could you speed things up? It's been all systems go before you even got here, and now, well..."

Willow smiled at her friend as she trailed off, then she pecked her on the lips before she kissed her way down to her neck which earned her a long sigh from Buffy, "Seriously Will, lower. Ohhhhhhh Goooooddddd, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take, I... ooooooohhhhhh Goooooooddddddd yeeeeeesssssss!"

Very much wanting to give Buffy what she wanted Willow lowered herself down to her friend's chest area while only placing a couple of kisses on her skin along the way, only beginning to kiss consistently again once she reached the bottom of the blonde's left boob. Even then she was quick about it, soon reaching the other girl's nipple and taking it into her mouth for a gentle sucking, making Buffy moan loudly in the process.

That seemed to keep Buffy happy for a while, Willow relieved that she got at least a little time with her boss's perky little boobs. After all she had joked with her friends she was a breast girl, Willow happily indulging in her love for boobs by going back and forth between Buffy's boobs, kissing the soft flesh surrounding each nipple which of course she mostly focused on, licking, sucking and biting those little bundles of flesh to painful hardness. Then she felt pressure on the top of her head, smiled at the gesture and then started making her way down to the one thing she loved more than boobs. Well, there were maybe two, but they were both in the same wonderful area she was headed.

"Yes Will, lower. Lower! Lower, lower, lower, oh God." Buffy whimpered as her best friend placed her head in between her legs, "Eat me! Eat my pussy. Please? I need it so bad, oh, oh Willow, I need to cum so bad. I had such a stressful day and no one makes me cum like you do, so please... do it. Put your mouth on me. Lick me, suck me, fuck me, mmmmmmmm, fuck me with your tongue. Fuck me the way lesbians do. Fuck me, please fuck me, fuck me Will, oh God fuck meeeeeeeee aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkkk!"

Buffy hadn't always been so vocal in bed. In fact she was normally pretty much silent, letting her actions speak louder than words. Which was actually true of her normal life as she got older, but ever since this little affair had begun Willow had requested that she talked dirty, and as Buffy hadn't exactly been pulling her weight so far in this 'relationship' it felt like the least she could do. And honestly after listening to Faith way too many times she felt inspired and was kind of embarrassed how much she got into it.

To be fair she couldn't see how anyone could blame her for being excited about having an experienced lesbian in between her legs, the redhead's breath tickling her cunt and making her feel all tingly. And they certainly couldn't blame her for crying out when that lesbian finally stuck out her tongue and slid it across her pussy lips, Willow repeating the action over and over again and making Buffy's incredibly horny body feel like it was going to melt from the incredible pleasure she was feeling from this admittedly small act.

She knew this was barely a fraction of what Willow was capable of, these gentle licks barely brushing her entrance and avoiding her clit entirely. However Buffy was so tightly wound that it didn't feel like it would take much at all to make her cum. A couple caresses of her clit, a tongue thrust or two into her needy love box, hell just a couple of firmer licks would probably do the trick, but Willow insisted on gently licking her pussy lips to somewhere between heaven and hell, leaving Buffy a moaning mess.

Part of the reason that Buffy felt so comfortable talking dirty during sex was because more than half the time she had no idea what she was actually saying, Willow's tongue, mouth, fingers, and whatever toys she chose to use on her melting the Slayer's mind and leaving her a blissfully happy puddle of goo. Except when she wanted to cum, then she became more and more aware the closer to cumming she got, Buffy eventually willing to do or say anything to get what she wanted.

"More, mmmmmm, give me more!" Buffy blush silently, forcing the next few words out, "Ohhhhhhhh Goooooddddddd Willow, mmmmmmmm that feels soooooo goooooooodddddddd, but I want more. I want your tongue inside me. Mmmmmmm God, please Willow, lick my clit, aaaaaahhhhhhh, suck it, suck my clit, suck my pussy, oooooooooh Goooooooodddddddd Will, make me cum! Please make me cum! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkkk Make me cum like a lesbian slut!"

Normally Willow wasn't one to deny Buffy a request. More often than not that was because whatever the request was it was a matter of life and death, and while that wasn't the case this time her response was still crucial to their friendship. After all the last couple of times Buffy had asked Willow to make her cum the redhead Witch had rushed to do so, still unable to believe her lucky stars that her beautiful best friend was allowing her to do this. But this time things were different.

Willow was still very grateful at having the privilege of being in between Buffy's legs, but the pretty blonde had offered to return the favour and they had even agreed on a method which would help ease the nervous Slayer into it. So the question was now did Willow follow through with their earlier conversation or take Buffy's earlier nervousness as a sign that she should just tongue the other girl to climax and be happy with a belly full of Slayer cum?

As usual Willow debated this for quite a while, leaving Buffy to continue begging her for 'mercy', and then she decided to take the simple option, which included lifting her mouth away from the yummy treat in front of her and softly asking, "Are, are you still up for trying a 69?"

"Sure." Buffy blushed, then after a brief hesitation, adding somewhat more confidently, "If you make me cum while doing it."

"Oh trust me, that wouldn't be an issue." Willow grinned, quickly scooting round so her pussy was over Buffy's face, becoming somewhat nervous when she almost was fully in the 69 position and added, "But like I said, you don't have to do anything if you don't want too, it's just that I thought this would be a good way, you know, to ease you into it. If you don't want to do it that's totally cool, I don't mind, really, but... if you wanted too, I won't exactly object, not that OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Perhaps to finally make Willow stop babbling more than anything else Buffy grabbed the redhead's ass once she was hovering directly over her and shoved her down onto her face, the oldest living Slayer immediately sliding her tongue out and beginning to use it to caress Willow's pussy. And if nothing else, it definitely shut Willow up for a while, perhaps the most powerful Witch in the world overwhelmed by getting something she'd wanted for so very, very long.

For a while all Willow could seem to do was moan in pleasure, then a polite cough from Buffy reminded her she was supposed to be doing something, specifically something she loved to do and once she remembered what it was she once again fully committed to it. That meant leaning her head down and beginning to lick Buffy's cunt again, slowly working the Slayer up to where she had been before slowly sliding her tongue inside her, and then after taking a moment to just enjoy being inside Buffy Summers beginning to tongue fuck the head of the Watchers Council.

Buffy had been so nervous that ultimately she just wanted to get it over with, and to her tremendous relief she found that licking pussy really wasn't that bad. True, it took her a while to get used to the taste, but once she did she kind of liked it, and after so many nights of writhing under Willow's incredibly skilled little tongue it was an incredible thrill to make the redhead moan and squirm for her with just her tongue.

Of course then Willow had to push her tongue inside her, and while Buffy had desperately wanted that what felt like only seconds ago now it was a bit of a distraction. Not that Buffy complained, it was just kind of hard to return the favour when all she could really think about was the tongue pumping slowly in and out of her pussy, Buffy was sure Willow could have made her cum at any moment if she really wanted too. Luckily the redhead gave her a chance to catch up, which after she recovered from the initial shock Buffy did with gusto.

At first that just meant increasing the speed and the force of her licks, Buffy copying Willow's earlier actions by moving her tongue clockwise and anticlockwise as well as up and down, eventually beginning to linger on the other girl's clit. Like Willow had done a few times before Buffy swirled her tongue around that sensitive bundle of nerves and then took it into her mouth for a brief sucking. Then, going totally off book, Buffy slammed her tongue as deep as it would go into Willow's pussy, taking the powerful Witch completely off-guard given the way she cried out and arched her back.

There was a moment or two where Buffy felt extremely proud of herself, then Willow was suddenly cumming hard and fast into her mouth, Buffy rushing to swallow the juices just to make sure she didn't drown in them. There was just so much of it, the fact that it tasted different/better than Willow's regular cream and the way that the redhead's body was jerking around telling Buffy exactly what was happening. Then Willow got her 'revenge', Buffy struggling to keep up with the experienced muffin muncher as they got down to some serious lesbian fun.

Willow had dreamt of cumming in Buffy's pretty little mouth for years, and lately it had seemed that fantasy actually had a chance of coming true, but she hadn't been expecting it when she had walked into the room who knows how many minutes ago. So she thought it was totally forgivable she got really worked up being in this 69 and came hard and fast when Buffy slipped her tongue inside her. Of course Willow was still the seasoned veteran here, so she had an example to set. Besides, it would have been rude not to return the favour.

So, forcing herself to concentrate on Buffy's pleasure and not her own, Willow pushed her tongue as deep as it would go into the best female friend she'd ever had. She then took a moment to enjoy the scream of pleasure her friend let out into her cunt and the feeling of Buffy's inner walls clamping down on her tongue before beginning to thrust in and out, at first establishing a steady rhythm but soon tongue fucking the Slayer for all she was worth, curling that wet muscle with every other thrust to hit Buffy's G-spot.

This of course led to Willow getting a mouthful of Buffy's cum, a heavenly flavour she had become very familiar with. The first time she tasted that succulent treat it was hard, if not impossible, to beat but this was definitely a close second, Willow briefly removing her tongue so she ravenously gulped down that yummy cream while she creamed into Buffy's mouth almost simultaneously. This happened over and over again as the two long-time friends became completely lost in fucking each other, the entire world melting away until it was just them.

If the world was ending right now Willow wasn't sure she could have the self-restraint, or the self-preservation, needed to pull herself away from this heaven to do what needed to be done. She couldn't even do that now when her beloved 'reward' was on the line, Willow making Buffy cum over and over again while Buffy did the same, only finally stopping and rolling off when she thought for sure she was going to be knocked unconscious. Luckily for Willow Slayer stamina/recovery was legendary, and with a little spell she didn't like to overuse as it was extremely draining on her powers she too was saved from unconsciousness, the two former residents of Sunnydale laying there for several minutes while they gasped for breath.

Eventually Buffy turned back around and got on top of Willow so she could gently kiss her and then ask, "Soooooo... do you want your reward now?"

As much as she just wanted to nod her head Willow bit her lip and then asked, "Are, are you sure you're ok with this?"

"Yeah, sort of." Buffy blushed, "I mean, Faith sure makes it sound fun, and even though it's always seemed kind of gross I've always been a little curious, and, and I kind of like what we just did and I was always curious about that, and I know you like it, so... yeah. Let's try. If you still want too."

"Oh I still want too." Willow grinned, that grin staying on her face as she got on her knees and added, "Now, could you get on all fours for me. I... I want you to show me that ass."

Willow blushed a little at that last comment, but considering what was on offer she could push past a little awkwardness, and sure enough at least on her part the awkwardness was forgotten when after briefly biting her lip Buffy turned over onto her stomach and then lifted herself up onto all fours so that her cute little bubble butt was pretty much directly in her face.

Buffy even wiggled it slightly as she taunted, "Is this what you want Will? My virgin ass? You wanna pop my anal cherry as a reward? Do you want to be rewarded for finding our newest Slayer, and for fucking me so good, by being allowed to take my virgin butt?"

"God yes." Willow moaned, "Oh Buffy, your ass is so fuck-able. And lick-able. Would, would you mind if I-"

"Go ahead Will." Buffy interrupted, "My ass is yours, so OOOOOOOHHHHHHH Gooooooodddddd!"

Unable to help herself Willow grabbed both of Buffy's butt cheeks, spread them wide open and dived down to slide her tongue over the tiny hole between them that she had been fantasising about touching for so very long. Sure, the taste couldn't really compare to Buffy's pussy, but it was at least twice as kinky, especially given it was preparation for what came next. Much needed preparation at that given how wonderfully tight Buffy seemed to be, Willow now having absolutely no doubt that her friend was in fact an anal virgin.




Pretty Little Slayers



Not that she doubted it for a second, but it was nice that she had some confirmation in the form of first trying to push her tongue into that incredibly tight orifice and then succeeding with a finger, Willow's eyes rolling in the back of her head and a long moan escaping her lips as she enjoyed the exquisite tightness. And imagined just how much fun it would be fucking Buffy's butt, the difference between this time and all those previous fantasies being that now it was about to come true.

Removing that finger Willow return to giving Buffy a thorough rim job, swilling her tongue around and around the puckered hole clockwise and anticlockwise as well as doing simple laps. After a while she returned a finger to Buffy's butt, at first just to stretch it out so she could try to get her tongue as far up that pretty hole as possible but eventually, and somewhat reluctantly, she switched to just using her fingers full-time. Which was nice because she got to enjoy the exquisite feel of virgin Slayer ass, which was easily the tightest thing Willow had ever felt, but she didn't enjoy it quite as much as what she had just done or what she was about to do.

Throughout this process Buffy moaned and blushed, unable to believe how good it felt already. Faith had been running her mouth about how wonderful ass play was, but Buffy had always figured that was just because Faith was a massive slut. Sure, she knew other, less slutty girls liked it, and Willow had described in detail how many of her conquests had loved being butt fucked, however Buffy could have never imagined she would enjoy it this much.

Ok, so far she'd only received a ass licking and butt fingering, yet here she was moaning like a total anal whore just from a finger up her butt. That suggested that she might in fact be a butt slut, a thought which was really horrifying to Buffy. However she wasn't so sure it was horrifying because she would probably end up admitting to Faith that she was right and anal sex rocked, or because she was embarrassed to like being touched back there in general, or because she hadn't simply tried this sooner.

Part of Buffy was terrified it was either going to be the last one or a combination of all three, but as Willow pushed a second finger up her butt with barely any pain whatsoever Buffy found it increasingly harder to care. Instead she found herself closing her eyes, gripping onto the bed sheets and pushing herself back against those invading fingers.

She could practically feel Willow grinning against her skin, the redhead gently placing kisses on her ass cheeks while she allowed Buffy to impale her own ass hole on those fingers. Then Willow started to move them again, timing it so that she was making sure those digits pounded as deep and as hard into Buffy's butt as possible with every thrust, the Slayer practically feeling herself on the edge of orgasm again. Then all of a sudden Willow pulled her fingers out, leaving Buffy whimpering and unsatisfied.

Looking over her shoulder Buffy opened her mouth to protest but no sound came out as she was too busy watching Willow suck her fingers clean. Then Willow mumbled a few words and a long, thick strap-on dildo appeared around her waist, the Witch spitting onto her hand and rubbing the saliva into her newly acquired weapon.

Then biting her lip Willow murmured, "Buffy..."

Still kind of overwhelmed by what she was feeling Buffy's only response was, "Uh-huh."

"If, if you, erm-" Willow stammered, for a moment feeling like the shy nerd she had been when they first met, then she reminded herself that girl would have never made it this far and forced herself to boldly state, "If you spread your cheeks it widens your butt hole and makes the penetration a little easier."

Having never bottomed before, and not having the guts to ask her previous lovers about it, Willow didn't know whether that was factually true, but it sounded plausible and she thought she made it sound like she was speaking from experience. The truth was the act seemed to under line the fact that her lover was surrendering her forbidden hole to her which was an incredible turn on for the redheaded Witch. Unfortunately there was a long silence which totally freaked Willow out, the former and perhaps current geek terrified she pushed things too far. Then her best friend slowly reached back and spread her ass cheeks, Buffy literally offering Willow her virgin ass hole.

For what felt like an eternity Willow just stared at this sight, which to be fair was pretty much one of her naughtiest/forbidden sex dreams come true, then she grabbed her strap-on by its base and then pressed it to Buffy's butt hole. This unsurprisingly caused Buffy to tense up momentarily, then the blonde forced herself to ignore that natural reaction and relax so Willow could take her reward. And take it she did, the Witch steadily applying pressure against her friend's virgin back door until the tight anal ring began to slowly stretch for her, Willow completely captivated by the sight of Buffy's butt hole stretching until finally the head of the dildo slipped inside, meaning it was official. Willow had just popped Buffy's anal cherry.

She, Willow Rosenberg, had just taken Buffy Summers's anal virginity. She had slid a dildo into the virgin ass of a girl she had been crushing on for what felt like her entire life. That cute lil bubble butt she had been fantasising about all these years, staring at while Buffy was training, thinking about while she was butt fucking other women, Willow had finally penetrated it. The best friend she'd ever had was letting Willow butt fuck her. The Oldest/Most Successful Slayer In Recorded History had just allowed formally meek little mouse Willow Rosenberg to be the first ever to take her ass. The now legendary Buffy the Vampire Slayer had given up her virgin ass to a girl who was essentially her minion, her flunky, her employee. Her groupie had robbed the Head of the Watchers Council of her butt cherry, and now that groupie wanted to make THE Slayer's butt hole hers.

Finally coming out of the dumbfounded haze anally penetrating her best friend put her in Willow began to push forwards, sending about another inch into Buffy's butt before she stopped to allow the blonde time to rest and get used to the additional inch. Given that Buffy was a Slayer she probably didn't need to take such care with her, but Willow had been this gentle with strangers she had picked up in bars, why be rougher with the girl she actually liked? Besides, the sounds slipping out of Buffy's lips were making her nervous.

Technically they were escaping from Buffy's clenched teeth, but Willow didn't know that. The redhead could see her hands clutching the bed sheets, but she must have dismissed that as normal, which was a little worrying. Of course Buffy had been anticipating pain, and compared to some of the things she had experienced this really was nothing, but... it just felt so weird having something so big entering her body that way, filling up a place inside her which was never meant to be invaded by such a long thick object.

At first Buffy could have sworn this was the same strap-on Willow had used on her before, but it definitely hadn't felt this big when it was in her mouth or pussy. Although while it was possible she couldn't imagine Willow would use a bigger toy when it came to taking her ass. Given the redhead's love of anal she would no doubt want to do this again and again, and as her best friend it was unlikely Willow would play such a mean trick on her.

As if out to prove how much she cared about her Willow suddenly switch to pulling the dildo almost all the way out and then pushing the amount she had penetrated her with so far back in, the redhead repeating the process over and over again and officially starting the butt fucking. The difference was noticeable right away, Buffy's unladylike grunts, groans, whimpers and occasional soft cries of pain swiftly being phased out for moans, groans, whimpers and occasional loud cries of pain and pleasure. Then finally Buffy found herself crying out loudly in pleasure, The Oldest Slayer unable to fully comprehend the amazing feelings coming from her rectum.

She didn't even notice as Willow started adding inch after inch with every other thrust, Buffy letting out a loud cry of surprise when she felt something bumping against her butt. It happened again and again, Buffy letting go of her cheeks and looking back to see what was going on. Then she blushed, partly because of what was happening and partly because she had been so overwhelmed by her first ass fucking she hadn't realised the simple fact that Willow had completed the anal penetration and now her best friend's thighs were loudly smacking into her butt cheeks, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing throughout the room along with the now uncontrollable sounds of ecstasy escaping from her mouth.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, ooooooohhhhhhhh Gooooooodddddddd, mmmmmmmmm, fuck me Will, fuck my ass!" Buffy moaned, eventually deciding she would say whatever she had too to get more of this wonderful pleasure, "Aaaaaaahhhhhh God, it feels so good, soooooooo gooooooddddddd, oh God, why did I wait so long to try this? Mmmmmm fuck, it's so good, please fuck me harder! I want you to fuck my ass harder! Come on, pound me! I'm a Slayer, I'm not going to break. Ohhhhhhh fuckkkkkkk, aaaaaaahhhhhhh shit, butt fuck me like you used to butt fuck Faith. Aaaaaaahhhhhhh Goooooooddddd, treat me like you used to treat that anal whore and wreck my ass! Oooooooohhhhhh Willlllloooooowwwww!"

Willow couldn't resist such words and soon she began increasing the pace, tightening her grip on Buffy's hips so she could really start to hammer the Slayer's ass. Still, she didn't pick up the pace too quickly, as while Buffy might be a Slayer unlike Faith this was her first time taking it in the ass and she wanted to make sure it remained a pleasurable experience throughout. So Willow used every ounce of knowledge she had gained from years of sodomising women to continue stretching out Buffy's butt even as she began pounding it.

That included the rather risky move of slapping Buffy's ass while Willow moaned, "Oh God, that's it Buffy, mmmmmmm, take it! Take it! Take it in your tight little Slayer ass! Ohhhhhh Goooooddddd, you're so tight, mmmmmmmm, your ass is like a dream, it's so good, so tight, oh Buffy!"

Faith had the filthiest mouth Willow had ever known and she blamed the Dark Slayer for rubbing off on her and ruining some perfectly enjoyable nights with girls she had picked up. However if Willow was honest with herself she loved it too, and after a while she couldn't have kept herself quiet if she tried. This was just so good, Buffy's ass maybe the greatest and most fuck-able ass she'd ever had the pleasure of pounding. The fact that this was literally a dream come true probably added to it, Willow fulfilling her greatest fantasy as she gave her best friend's butt the screwing it had been begging for ever since they'd met.

Initially Willow had been worried that the dirty talk would ruin what seemed like a perfect moment, but to be fair Buffy had started it and her words seem to make her friend even more turned on so she continued it, "Take it Buffy, take it like a little anal whore! Take it up your tight Slayer ass! You wanna be a butt slut just like Faith? Ooooooohhhhhhhh, then take it up the butt! Take it up the butt deep and hard, mmmmmmm, right up your Slayer butt, oh God Buffy, ohhhhhhhhhh, you have no idea how long I've wanted this."

Suddenly falling silent Willow momentarily went pale. Then she realised Buffy was too far gone to even register what she was saying and she relaxed. Even so she began using every ounce of her strength to sodomise the Slayer, Willow not really having to add much to the pace as by that point she had already been brutally banging Buffy's butt. Really the only thing that changed was that they both became incapable of coherent speech, the only sounds out of her own stupid mouth being moans, groans, grunts, cries, and other animalistic-like noises as she became nothing but a wild beast relentlessly pounding into her submissive lover's rectum to prove her dominance.

On some level Willow was aware of her own orgasms crashing through her body, the constant bashing of the end of the dildo against her clit and the indescribable mental heaven that was butt fucking Buffy the Vampire Slayer making her cum harder than ever before. But more important than her own pleasure was Buffy's, Willow grinning like the mad fool she was as she made her best friend cum over and over again, the Witch calling upon every ounce of stamina she possessed to make this the greatest ever ass fucking she had ever dished out, if not the greatest ass fucking ever.

Buffy had no previous experience with anal to compare this too, but this totally blew away any type of sex she'd had before. Even Willow's pussy eating skills, as awesome as they were, couldn't compare to the ecstasy of one anally induced orgasm after the other rocking through her body, leaving nothing but an animal frantically hammering herself back against the little Witch who somehow not only held on but managed to keep her in her place and brutally hammer her ass to all those multiple orgasms.

It felt like a miracle, but Buffy concluded it had to be magic, her best friend calling upon her powers to turn her into a rectum wrecking super stud, to use a phrase Faith liked to call her. Another phrase which suddenly came to mind was Alpha female, Buffy vividly remembering Faith telling her while Willow might be meek and kind of a follower outside the bedroom, when she got freaky something took over and she became the epitome of dominance and control. Normally Buffy was probably the Alpha of her group, but right now Willow was very much the Alpha and Buffy was nothing but her bitch. She was Willow's bitch, the very thought of it making Buffy cum extra hard.

After being in charge for so long this total submission she felt was almost better than her climaxes, Buffy suddenly furious with Willow, Faith and even Dawn for not doing a better job at convincing her to try this sooner. They could have at least done a better job of describing what a pure heaven this was. Of course more than anything she was mad at herself for blushing and shying away from anything kinky for all these years. Well no more, Buffy's last coherent thought for some time being she was done holding back, that from now on she was going to indulge in every perverted desire she'd ever had whenever she got the chance to experience it.

Then all that was left was a super powerful Witch mindlessly butt banging the oldest Slayer in existence, the two supercharged women working together to slam a long hard object into what was once a tiny virginal hole which was never meant to be entered. Orgasm after orgasm, brutal thrust after brutal thrust, scream after scream, they all melted together until two sweat soaked bodies collapsed onto the bed sheets beneath them, both best friends gasping for breath as their conscious minds slowly came back to them.

As they did they heard a clapping sound, followed by a familiar voice murmuring, "So B, ya finally tried it up the butt."

Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to pull her face from out of the bed sheets Buffy just groaned something incoherent, leaving Willow to look up with big wide eyes, "How, how did you get in here?"

Faith rolled her eyes, "Please, hotel locks are a piece of piss."

"Oh yeah, I forgot, once a felon, always a felon." Willow grumbled before adding, "What I meant to say was why did you break in here? I soundproofed the room."

"Maybe from the outside in, but not from the inside out." Faith smirked, "Honestly Will, you of all people should know you need to be real specific with magic. Or maybe your powers are slipping in your old age."

"Fuck you Faith." Willow growled, immediately regretting that was all that her exhausted mind could manage.

Grinning wickedly Faith turned around and pulled down her pants to reveal her gaping open ass hole, "As you see Will, somebody already did that. But hey, I'm up for seconds if you are. Just pull out of B's butt and we can get this party started."

Glaring at her frienemy/fuck buddy Willow almost casually pulled her dildo out of Buffy's butt hole, got to her feet and as menacingly as she could on shaky legs wearing nothing but a strap-on covered in her best friend's ass cream said, "Get out!"

Faith casually turned back around and pulled up her own pants and then licked her lips as she stared at first the dildo covered in yummy anal juices, then at Buffy's gaping ass hole and finally at Willow's scowling face, "Maybe next time."

Thankfully without another word Faith turned and left, leaving Willow to enjoy the sight of her barely conscious friend, Buffy's butt never looking prettier to the anal loving Witch. For a while she stared at the red ringed crater which used to be virgin and tight, eventually unstrapping the dildo so she could taste Buffy's heavenly ass juices, the whole time trying not to contemplate too much on what she knew she would be obsessing over in the hours, days and possibly weeks to come, that being were her powers on the fritz? And what would the repercussions be if that was the case?



Pretty Little Slut



Beth was out at her book club. I had put the kids to bed hours ago, and was anxiously waiting for her to come home. She always drank too much at book club, and would come home feeling a little adventurous. I was never sure what to expect, but I laid naked under the covers.

Finally I heard her keys in the front door, and her slow drunken walk up the stairs. She came into the bedroom, closed the door, and locked it. "Well, hello. I hope you're not expecting me to be too easy tonight."

And then I was hard.

She walked over to the bed and tore off the covers. She came over to my side of the bed, grabbed hold of my cock, and pulled it toward her. "Stand up, slut."

I did as I was told. She kept her grip on my cock as she pulled me toward the closet. "You are very presumptuous to assume I want to use one of these things tonight," as she yanked my tool. "I think I'll be a lesbian tonight, so this will never do. Stand here."

She went into the closet and came out with a couple items: A pink lace thong, and a black silky camisole. She set them on the bed. "Put these on."

I had never done anything like that, and wasn't sure how I felt about it. "Hang on, Beth. I don't think..."

And suddenly she had my balls in a tight grip. "I don't need my first lesbian lover to think, or speak. I need her to wear something pretty. Are you able to do that?"

As she spoke, she squeezed my balls tighter. I just nodded. "I thought so. Now be pretty."

First, I put on the thong. It could barely contain my cock in the front, but I managed to tuck it in. The thin strip of lace up my ass was uncomfortable, but not totally unpleasant. Next was the camisole. I had to admit that the silk felt nice up against my body. I admired myself in the full-length mirror. I wouldn't say I was pretty, but I could already see a little pre-cum soaking through the front of the thong.

"Okay, slut, you need to undress me."

First, I took off her jeans, and then her underwear. Then I undid the buttons on her shirt. She hadn't worn a bra tonight. Christ! She had great tits! I leaned forward to lick one of her nipples.

And I felt the hard grip on my balls again. "I said to undress me, bitch! I didn't give you permission to do anything else."

When she let go, I finished removing her shirt. She laid down on the edge of the bed. "And now, my pretty little slut, I need you to eat my pussy."

I kneeled on the floor. I started kissing her left inner thigh, and worked my way upward. I ran my tongue up her left lip. She gasped as I lightly grazed her clit with my tongue. Then I ran my tongue down her right lip, and kissed her right thigh.

As I worked my way back up, I sucked her right lip into my mouth as much as I could. While it was in my mouth, I flicked it with my tongue, and then let go. I started below her pussy, lightly licking right up the middle, stopping just short of her clit.

From her breathing, I could tell that the balance of power was shifting. "Please, oh please, slut. Please lick my clit."

So I did. I started flicking her little bean up and down, while I put two fingers inside her. She was moaning louder. "Another finger ... please!"

I put in a third finger, and increased my tongue speed. She grabbed the back of my head and smashed my face into her pussy as she came. My fingers and face were soaked.

I put my hands flat over top of her pussy and clit, and gazed admiringly over the body I'd been wanting to ride all night. She wiped her juices off my mouth. "You did well, slut. Now you can lie down on the bed."

I did as I was told.

"You may think you've earned reciprocation, but that's not how it works tonight. I'm not going to touch you. You're allowed to touch yourself, but only while keeping your pretty panties in place."

I started to protest. "You've forgotten your place. You're my pretty little slut, and that's all. You're here for my pleasure, and any pleasure you are allowed is a gift from me."

I decided to take her gift. I rested my right hand on the front of my wet thong, slowly rubbing my balls and cock. All the deprivation to this point, and the restriction made it hyper sensitive.

With only a little rubbing, I could feel the pressure mounting. It was feeling good. I was getting closer.

As I started moaning, I felt my wife's hand under my camisole, pinching my nipples.

That pushed me over the edge. As I came, my hard-on broke free of its restraint and shot a load of jizz up the front of my silky black camisole.

I finally relaxed.

"Slut, next time I may let my husband fuck you, and he won't be gentle."

I wasn't even sure what that meant, but it sounds good to me!