Passions Prologue
By Dana Keylits
Chapter Three: Coming.
She let go of my finger, her lips smacking, her eyes dancing. I couldn't stop looking at her and I found my hand snaking around her neck, my fingers tangled in her hair, and I pulled her towards me.
She came willingly, her eyes searching mine, her lips parting, her breath hot and panting. A barely audible whimper slipping past her lips before her eyes dropped to search my lips.
And, then we kissed.
Her mouth was full and sweet, salty, like vanilla and caviar and something else I couldn't quite figure out, and my eyes rolled back, my lids fluttering shut, as I felt the soft press of her lips against mine, the marriage of which rolled down my body, crashing between my legs like the ocean against a rocky cliff.
Every cell, every fiber, every synapse of my body was screaming at me, a fractured mass of coursing blood and panting breath, quivering, aching, terrifying need. And, while on the inside I was screaming and smashing and writhing, on the outside I took my time, my lips moving softly, slowly over hers, my tongue barely peeking out to lave her bottom lip before dancing and weaving with hers in a languid lazy unrehearsed ballet.
She rolled on top of me, pushing the sheet down so our naked bodies pressed against each other, the warmth of her silky flesh igniting a fire in my belly as my hands coursed a trail over her shoulders and upper back, the inward curve of her waist, her smooth, round behind.
Her mouth was like a blessing, a calling, a gift, and she used it to sing to me, her tongue and lips and teeth coordinating a slow seduction, a dizzying kidnapping of my body, my mind, every single part of me.
She whispered into my ear, sweet nothings, dirty something's, my name, over and over, what she wanted to do to me, what she wanted me to do to her, what we might do together.
And, I almost felt out of my body, like I was a silent voyeur, floating above us, watching, observing, feeling every kiss and lick and bite, every touch of her body against mine, her breasts smashing against me, the tickle of her pubic hair on my thigh as she traveled down the column of my neck, her tongue dispatching a hot wet trail in its wake.
A soft buzzing filled my ears and it took me a minute before I realized that it was me I was hearing, my own moans and sighs, and ohhh fucks, that tumbled past my lips in alternating trend. My fingers weaving through her curly hair as she assaulted me with her lips, my skin feeling like it was ablaze, every skim of her tongue against my hot flesh sending shards of pleasure through me, and it almost hurt it felt so good.
She teased my nipples with her fingers, commanding them to stand at attention, creating concentric circles of goose bumped flesh to appear on my breasts like the wind against an acre of grain, and I arched my back towards her. She'd taken one nipple into her mouth and was sucking it, hard, and it was anguish and ecstasy, punishment and reward all rolled into one, long, hard, slow suck.
She was playing me like an expensive instrument, with the precision and skill of a grand master and I thought for a moment that I might just lose all sense of reality, all sense of sanity. How was it even legal for one person to feel that much pleasure? Surely, I would break from it.
She was whispering to me again, that velvety voice of hers filling my head with erotic images of her against me, of her inside of me, and I rocked my hips against her, urging her, begging her to relieve the unbearable pressure that had amassed between my legs. She laughed, looking up at me after dipping her tongue into my naval, "Be patient, Kate," she mocked, "All good things…"
Fuck all good things. All good things can go straight to hell. I wanted her now. I needed her now. And, I cried out, a string of colorful, garbled, interchangeable words that all meant the same thing rising from my throat and roaring past my lips, filling the morning silence around us, and eliciting a half-growl, half-purr from her.
"Fuck, Bette. Just, please!" I begged, my pelvis rising from the bed, finding her, molding to her like we were a pair of nestling magnets, her breast filling the space between my legs like it was the final missing piece of a puzzle.
She mapped my upper body with silky, soft hands, her fingers digging into my flesh, kneading the soft rise of muscle over bone, the ridges and slopes and curves of my torso. And then she dipped her head between my legs, one hand covering the soft down of hair at my pubic bone as her tongue slowly, excruciatingly, parted my inner lips then circled my pounding, wanting clit.
An otherworldly moan arose from low in my chest, ascending my throat and spilling from my lips as her tongue worked my clit, slow, lazy, agonizing circles, only occasionally touching the hardened bundle of nerves.
My entire body rocked with her, and she manipulated me with the expertise of an aging Geisha. I grabbed my breasts, squeezing, pulling on my nipples as I threw my head back, my eyes squeezed shut, the powerful force of her causing my body to tremble and shudder.
And, then explode.
The orgasm came fast and hard, and I hadn't expected it yet, none of the normal telltale signs having alerted me that it was approaching. I screamed, not even caring that people passing on the sidewalk below the open window of her tiny apartment would hear me. I screamed and writhed and called her name as ripples of pleasure washed over me, wave after wave after wave, a seemingly never ending sea of pleasure lapping at my shore, over and over, higher and higher.
She held on, her mouth on me, her tongue flat against my clit, coaxing, teasing, aiding every contraction of my orgasm. And then it was over, the spasms receding, becoming tiny aftershocks that then transcended into a calm, soothing sense of serenity, and my body went limp beneath her, and I had no breath.
She crawled up the bed beside me, her face turned towards me on the pillow, her fingertips a feather touch on my cheek. I turned to face her, still trying to gather my breath, slow my heart rate, my body a mass of tingled nerve endings, even the slightest touch to my flesh would be unbearable.
"Kate," she whispered.
"Hmmm," I replied, my lips curling.
"You came."
I laughed. "Yes," I placed my hand over hers. "I came."
A/N: We are a small group, enjoying this fic, and I hope all of you are taking as much pleasure in reading this story as I am in writing it. Never fear, I will not abandon it, even though fanfic dot net might not be the best forum for hosting this story, I have every intention of completing it. It's an odd one, slash AND a crossover, so I understand there will be fewer readers. And, that's okay with me. :-) I'm proud of this story, and I hope that all of you will stay with me for all fifteen days! It should be a fun ride!
But, strap on your seat belts, because things only get steamier from here! LOL
Thank you to all of you who have read, favorite-ed, followed, and reviewed. I really appreciate your kind words and support. :-)
-dk