Peeling apart the fleshy lips with her fingers, she moved her tongue in a languorous way up and down the inner labia – the tension in Vesna communicating itself to her as her whole body tensed up around her. With confidence came calm, and Marcia was able to ignore the Croat’s repeated calls for her to finish her off, refusing to go deeper until she herself decided the time was right. Leaving her centre, she moved up to her face and engaged her in a long, lazy kiss. She sensed that Vesna had accepted that she must go at her pace if she wished to receive the satisfaction she was craving. The sense of empowerment pleased Marcia very much and energised her more than she could ever have believed.
She descended to her fried egg breasts and paid homage to them as if they were the most gorgeous pair of breasts in the world. At this moment, for Marcia, that is exactly what they were. Once again, she sensed the girl’s impatience for her to suck on her nipples and once again she declined to do so. That would be enabling her, she thought: “feeding the monster”, as a visiting preacher had memorably put it in one of his sermons.
When she was ready – and only then – did Marcia accommodate the girl’s desires, and when she did do so, she licked them vigorously, causing her to moan in pleasure. She let one hand snake down her abdomen, bringing it to a halt in her bush. Vesna raised herself up off the bed, begging Marcia to invade her with her fingers, but the older woman stood firm. Since body language was ineffective, Vesna gave voice to her frustrations, asking Marcia to finger fuck her.
“If you ask me nicely, then I’ll set what I can do,” said Marcia, relishing the control she had over the migrant soccer coach.
“Please,” she said. “Please use your finger to bring me off.”
Marcia was amused by the fact that Vesna thought it was the words “finger fuck” that she had taken exception to. But “fair’s fair”, she thought, the girls’ asked me nicely and now I must keep my promise. She placed a finger inside her pussy and couldn’t believe how wet it was. It was as if someone had actually watered it! She suddenly realized that she would probably be able to fit her whole hand in there. She decided to put it to the vote; after all, they were living in the world’s greatest democracy.
“I’m giving you a choice, Vesna. Do you want me to finger fuck you or do you want me to fuck you with my fist?”
To Vesna it was as if all her Christmases had come at once.
“Oh, please, do it. Fuck me with your fist!”
Marcia’s technique was very simple. She simply added one more finger to the mix every minute or so until she had run out of fingers, when the thumb provided the missing piece of the puzzle. Then she started to twist the hand inside the girl’s cunt. Vesna was crying out, but Marcia knew only too well that this wasn’t because she was suffering any pain.
“Do you want me to pull out?” she asked mischievously.
“No, no!” Vesna shot back, not picking up the irony and desperate for Marcia to stay inside her and finish her off.
Marcia obliged by pulling back part way before plunging deep inside her cavern, enjoying the squelchy sound that she was making. Soon that sound was drowned out, though, by the noise Vesna made as she climaxed – the sound of a wolf (no, make that a pack of wolves) howling.
“My God!” thought Marcia. “I hope that one day I too might be able to achieve that kind of release!”
A glance at the alarm clock showed it was already six o’clock and Marcia knew she must be leaving soon. She also knew that she wanted to see this girl again. Her skills as a masseuse may have been very good, but as a lover she was even better. Alyssa had opened the door to a new world, but it was this elfin Eastern European with whom she had been on a tour of its most delightful spots. Marcia wondered if she hadn’t fallen a little bit in love with her.
Before she left, Vesna said that there was more she wanted to share with her, new places she wanted to take her to. Marcia was curious and excited in equal measure, but chose not to ask her what she might mean. She knew that Connor would be travelling to the West Coast in early December for a series of meetings with clients, and they would have time then to explore further and consider which direction their relationship should take.
At the moment, Marcia couldn’t imagine life without Vesna, but, equally, on the other hand, she couldn’t imagine life without Connor either. The next few weeks would be critical, she felt. She would have the time to reflect on the momentous events of the past few days, and to set them – or at least attempt to set them – in the context of the totality of her life. She needed perspective, the perspective only time can bring.
As she got into her car and drove away, Vesna, naked as the day she was born, waved to her from the window. What Marcia couldn’t see was that in her other hand Vesna was holding an item she had just taken out of her closet: a black leather strap-on harness, out of which jutted an angry looking dildo.
Leave a Reply