Chapter 13 Broken
They made love again the next morning, or at least Carmen did. Shane, the night owl and the late sleeper, slept through most of the foreplay, but woke up just in time for her climax.
Shane's bedroom window had been open all night, and about quarter to five Carmen woke to the sound of rain falling on the plants outside the window. A card-carrying Romantic, Carmen loved rain. She stretched, listened to the rain a minute, and smiled at the memory of last night. Carefully she sat up and put her legs down on the floor, not wanting to wake Shane. She had not yet learned how unlikely that was; she did not yet know Shane slept so deeply and soundly.
Carmen sat on the edge of the bed and realized she was still wearing her bra, but no panties. She laughed to herself: Shane had gotten to second base, third base, and home, but had missed first base entirely. Well, this one had all the earmarks of a double-header.
She thought about whether she should put on her panties, or just remove her bra. Taking off her bra won out, in part because she could scratch that spot under the bra strap that always itched. Naked, she padded down the hall to the bathroom, peed without turning on the light, and returned to bed. She tucked in behind Shane, pulling Shane's bony hips and ass cheeks into her nicely padded thighs, listened to the rain for about seven seconds, and went back to sleep.
She woke again a little after eight, noticing the rain had stopped but listening to the sound of water dripping off the roof and the wet sounds of the street when a car went by. She stretched luxuriously again. She was still lying on her side facing Shane, who was now lying on her back and breathing deeply, her mouth slack and slightly open. Carmen's left hand rested on Shane's belly, the edge of her little finger just lightly touching the top of Shane's sparse pubic hair, a well-trimmed landing strip an inch wide.
Carmen had napped for a few hours with Shane the afternoon and evening that Shane had been Elmer Fudded and later became the pathetic loser of the No-Touching Game. That was also the night Shane said she didn't like sleep-overs. Carmen herself hadn't had all that many sleep-overs, though she had no objection to them. But in the seven years she had been sexually active, she'd always lived at home, even when she went to college, and the opportunities to spend an entire night with a lover her mother didn't suspect had been few and far between. In the seven years Carmen had only had a dozen or so lovers and affairs. She had never been a U-Haul lesbian dying to move in with someone at the first opportunity. She was still only twenty-five years old and still comfortable living at home; it wasn't failure to launch, just failure to munch much. Besides, Carmen had an incredible work ethic, holding down a full-time day job doing production assistant work, and doing DJ gigs two nights and many weekends. The fact was, she simply didn't have a lot of free time for romance. She frequented singles bars quite often -- but almost always on the clock, as a working DJ. She rarely had the time or energy to spend her free evenings cruising the very lesbian hangouts she often worked in. Anyway, she tended to have better luck at bar mitzvahs, weddings and senior citizen facilities.
All that being said, Carmen wondered if she still hadn't spent more nights sleeping -- in the sense of actually falling asleep -- with a lover than Shane had despite her many more conquests. On occasions when Carmen had spent the night in Jenny's bed, Shane had dragged her butt home at 3 o'clock, 4 o'clock, even once at 6 o'clock in the morning. Whatever else might have happened those nights, Carmen seriously doubted they had been romantic, candle-lit evenings with Shane and a lover staring deeply into one another's eyes. Shane might have fucked nearly a thousand women, according to what Jenny had once said Alice had told her, but it was easy to doubt Shane had spent any quality sack time with any of them. In a way, she probably didn't even know how. This was what Carmen's brother-in-law the school administrator called "a teachable moment": that good things --
really
good things -- happen to wildly promiscuous playa-lezzies who let their warm, sensuous, loving, spectacularly good-at-cunnilingus Latina girlfriends spend the night.
Again, Carmen got up quietly, again padded naked down the hall to the bathroom, and this time took a shower to cleanse and prep her golden surfaces to receive new rounds of fresh pelvic moisturizer. When she got back to Shane's room, damp and glowing in the morning light, Shane was in an ideal position, still on her back, one leg straight and the other bent at the knee, leaving Carmen a wide-open field, so to speak, for her intended endearments. She knelt on the floor by the side of the bed and began delivering whisper-like kisses to Shane's calves, knees, thighs. Shane snored gently through it all, a slight smile on her face as her dreams took a warmish turn. Soon Carmen was lying on her stomach on the lower part of the bed, nuzzling and kissing the hollows of Shane's adductor longus muscles.
Of all the muscle groups in the human body, Carmen loved the adductor group best, and of the four adductors in the thigh, the longus was teacher's pet. Place your face upon your lover's naked thigh and you are face-to-face with the adductor group. Push your lover's legs apart and bend the knees up into the frog-kick position, splayed and inner sides turned up. One muscle will pop out at you. It begins at the edge of the labia majora and runs east-west, a tendon-like silken rope that extends a few inches before widening into a major thigh muscle. On each side of it, one north and one south, lie two warm, hollow swales, two happy depressions. If the pussy was the apex of the
mon veneris
, the Mount of Venus, then Carmen decided the adductor longus was the hipbone-to-hipbone Ridgeline of
Ixchel,
who was its goddess.
Reverently Carmen bent low and brushed her lips across Shane's right adductor, working from the center outward. She bent lower, kissed the northern valley above it then the southern dale below. She inhaled deeply, drinking in the beloved Shane smell, a little musky and sweat-crusted from last night, but still a good smell, not unpleasant. As she worshipped, her right hand slipped down beneath Shane's left knee, gently applying pressure to move that leg up into the full frog. Shane did not wake but only turned her head, sighed, and perhaps seemed to smile in her dreams. Shane was so slim and boyish that her adductor ridgeline was as prominent as any Carmen had ever seen. This was not all that many, and of them Shane was her first boi, her only boi, the boi who had stolen her heart.
Carmen finished tongue-washing Shane's outer labia and slowly worked her way up the inner lips. Shane's pussy was the classic minimalist type, neither an oyster nor a clam, with thin lips well tucked away, riding under a handsome clit hood, a pink pup-tent-like cannoli that was perhaps a little longer than many, but not disproportionate. Like her nipples, her twat was about as pretty as they come, no pun intended. When the inner lips were gently pulled out, as Carmen was doing now, they revealed a lovely pink vestibule that was insanely lickable, and a nice, plump sponge housing the urethra nestling right above the smooth, dark entrance to her womb. Up above, a nicely pronounced clitoral glans peeked out from under its hood, glistening and hungry to be alphabet-tongued and slowly sucked to an oblivion of endorphin-washed insensibility. How such a lovely, moist, bubble-gum-tinted cleft so deliciously imbued with color, texture, flavor, plasticity, moisture and its own distinctive personality could be termed something so ugly and dismissive as a "gash" Carmen had no clue. "Gash" had no resemblance to the delicate pink-red genitalia Carmen loved so much, and when she spread wide those inner lips she stared down into an open abyss that she did not fear in the least. Neither monsters nor trolls lived in that cave, just a trio of spots known to a select handful of experts and aficionados of the inner pussy, of which Carmen had taught herself to become one.
The first that Carmen knew that Shane had woken up was when Shane moaned, "Oh, Jesus, that's so good."
Carmen was laving Shane's vestibule and the inside of her right inner lip, softly sucking it into her mouth and then probing the pee hole with her tongue, and delivering an occasional Australian kiss to the deep, wet hole below. When she heard Shane's moan she kept licking, sucking and tonguing, enjoying the flow of moisture coming out of Shane's cunt. Carmen's lips, chin, cheeks and the tip of her nose were anointed with Shanemilk, and after Carmen inserted two fingers into the hot pocket a thin line of warm pussy foam began to build up atop the inner lips, gently swallowed by Carmen as she mouth-vacuumed Shane's love seepage. She heard Shane's breath start to grow ragged, and then Shane groaned and grunted, telling Carmen she was getting close. She never altered her tempo, but she brought her hands up and gently inserted them under Shane's bottom, loving the feel of those firm, lean, muscular cheeks in her palms. Gently she began to lift, and Shane instantly brought her feet down so she could arch her back. With her ass now levitated six inches off the bed and her head twisting from side to side, Shane felt one of Carmen's hands leave her bottom and then felt three fingers slip deeply into her pussy, palm up. Carmen's mouth was locked around Shane's clit hood and her tongue was whipping it from side to side, pushing the hood backward and upward, exposing the super-sensitive pink pearl underneath. As Carmen's middle finger found Shane's G-spot and began to stroke it firmly, Shane felt the urge to pee, but held it. Her hands became fists clenching the sheet as her back bridged up, Carmen's face following and never letting go. Shane growled, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk," and came, gushing all over Carmen's fingers, her sauce dripping out around Carmen's slow-twisting hand. Shane sucked in a huge draft of air, then gritted her teeth, grunting, feeling the series of spasms as her come lasted, surges that went on for more than half a minute, Shane thrusting upward, her hips jerking and the adductors of her inner thighs trembling and quivering like Linda Blair in
The Exorcist
.
Shane just couldn't help it; she dropped her ass to the bed and rolled halfway onto her right side, Carmen's face drifting away. Shane's left hand came down and quickly grasped Carmen's wrist, holding the hand in place and keeping the three fingers in her pussy: The message, as Carmen understood, was "Don't move." Shane rocked herself slowly on those fingers as Carmen, also on her side now, leaned in and gently kissed the engorged outer lips, licking up the juice and letting Shane dictate the course of her descent back into the world.
Finally, after nearly two minutes, Shane whispered, "Oh, God."
Carmen giggled, proud of herself. "Hey, sunshine," she whispered.
"Come here," Shane huffed, breathless. Carmen understood this to mean she should scoot up the bed so she was face to face with Shane, and she complied. When she got up there she kissed Shane on the lips.
"Please," Shane said, still having difficulty talking between deep gasps for air, "please hold me."
Carmen pulled Shane into her arms, her own heart suddenly swelling with emotion. This was Shane asking to be held, something Carmen had never expected to hear.
"Car," Shane gasped, "Car, I ... I never ... that was--"
"Sshhhhhhhhh, baby," Carmen cooed. "It's all right."
"I love you so much," Shane said, again shocking Carmen's heart and bringing a rush of tears to her eyes.
"Oh, baby, I love you so much, too," she said, rocking Shane in her arms. Shane buried her head in Carmen's neck and couldn't help succumb to the chemicals soaking her brain. In a few seconds she slipped back into unconsciousness, snoring softly as Carmen rocked her, smiling.
Carmen let her sleep for ten minutes, then whispered in her ear, "Hey, baby, time to get up."
