"There aren't rattlesnakes in the snow."
"Just come here, silly. Kneel down facing me. No, sitting up but kneeling down. That's better. Can you get closer? Okay. Now spread your knees farther. Can you put the lantern down there? That's perfect. Okay, now you need to lift that cute butt up off your ankles." She slid the mug between her lover's legs and held it there, staring straight at Trick's cunt. "Can you spread your lips a little?" Trick spread them a lot, but that worked for Tamar. "Okay, just a second. Now lower just a bit? Okay. Let's try this." Tamar knew there was a chance some spray might escape, but she didn't want to jam her mug up against Trick. For one, she didn't want to hurt her, and for another, that lantern light would have been wasted if she was just going to press the mug to Trick's mound. She stared, waiting. Without meaning to her tongue crept out and pulled back, then she gently bit the centre of her lower lip.
Trick had no idea what to feel. She'd wanted this for so long, well, not just this, but this was that first step onto the new ground she'd been so desperate to visit. Yet here she was, and nothing moved. She pressed from inside, but nothing. She stared at the top of the tent and strained. Still nothing. She looked down at her pubic hair, at the mug. She willed it to come.
Nothing.
Then she looked at Tamar, teeth on her lip just as they were the first moment she'd ever seen her. Rebecca's house. In the kitchen. Looking for something, probably alcohol since it was Purim. So serious. Still looking for something. Patient. Determined. Her eyes focussed between Trick's legs instead of in the cupboards. Just like that day, Tamar felt her looking, turned her head and their eyes locked. Just like that day. Just as full of promise. Just as full of something.
That's when something broke open. Something rushed out of her. Something pulled Tamar's attention away. Now Tamar was staring at the mug she held just below Trick's cunt, but Trick kept staring at Tamar's face. It was so beautiful. So loving. She'd been so afraid of seeing something disturbed. Something disgusted. Something angry. But there was none of that. Instead she saw something curious. Something avid. Something excited. Something breathless.
Somehow the mug was half full before Trick heard anything at all. Tamar's expression had been her whole world, but once the echoing pour penetrated her consciousness it seemed overwhelmingly loud. Obscenely loud. But Tamar's face didn't change. She didn't pull back or look away. And Trick began to relax. And the flow slowed. And Trick relaxed. And the flow slowed.
Tamar watched to the end. When Trick's pee was reduced to dribbles her teeth released her lower lip, her jaw opened just a fraction. Her tongue crept out just a bit, licking her lips on the way back in.
Trick's heart melted. Her whole insides liquefied, from her chest to her vagina.
"Done?" Tamar asked, looking up.
"Done, I think."
Tamar began to pull the cup back out from under Trick's vulva, but the bottom bumped the tent floor. She did exactly what she hadn't meant to do earlier and pushed the cup up tight to Trick's body to keep the sloshing urine from spilling out. The hot piss splashed Trick's labia, and she gasped. She nearly lost her balance, leaning forward too far, but caught herself with a hand on Tamar's shoulder, which only caused more sloshing in the mug, then righted herself.
"Sorry," Tamar said in her Jewish-Canadian way. Which of course is to say that she wasn't actually sorry at all, but wanted to be polite.
"It's okay," Trick said.
They shared a moment, then Tamar asked, "Do you want to lift up?" Trick did. Tamar pulled the mug out successfully this time, dropped the lid on. As she screwed it quickly closed she heard a drop hit the floor of the tent. Looking between Trick's knees again, she saw another drop ready to fall from her labia. Trick hadn't moved, god knows why, so Tamar, not having anything else, reached out with her one free hand and wicked the moisture from Trick's vulva. Most of the wet was far too thick and buttery smooth for pee, and when she pulled her hand back close she could smell both urine and cunt on her fingers.
"Oh, let me get something," Trick said, thinking of the toilet paper in her backpack.
"It's okay," Tamar said. And when she said it she realized exactly why she had used her hand to wipe Trick clean.
Trick stopped moving for the backpack. She stopped moving at all. She was surrounded by the scent of pussy and pee, and her heart was bashing a sledgehammer against the inside of her ribs, and distantly she felt the cold of the winter air on her skin, but everything else disappeared so that she could focus on Tamar as she lifted her fingers under her nose and sniffed. Then her tongue snuck out a third time, farther than before, and licked a finger, then another. Then her fingers went into her mouth, one at a time, sucking at them the way she sucked dressing off carrots.
Trick's head spun. It was so much more than she hoped, even almost as much as she dreamed in her kinky, never-to-come-true dreams. Her nose crinkled up in worry, "Did it taste bad?"
Tamar stared directly into Trick's eyes, confident as fuck, and put her first finger back in her mouth again, sucking it hard. Sucking with the calm enthusiasm of a woman determined to get the most savour out of her favourite snack. She pulled the finger out with a deliberate smack. "It tastes like you."
"Oh, fuck. I want your mouth so bad right now."
Tamar pulled herself down toward the front of the tent, patting the top of the air mattress she'd left empty. "Lay your ass down."
Seconds later Tamar's face was between Trick's thighs, licking up small drops of spray on her tongues way closer and closer to Trick's cunt. She paid special attention to the crease between mound and thigh, her own face now wet from rubbing against Trick's hair. The smell was cunty, and the taste of drops of pee not much different from bitter sweat. A bit more metallic. A bit of added sour. It's not that it tasted good, and it might even have tasted bad if her mouth was full of it, but it tasted so human and so intimate, and the scent of their liquid cunts added a sexual background that couldn't be ignored. She sucked one labium into her mouth, then the other. The first again. The second again, savouring, but there was nothing left. Her tongue sought out more and was drawn to the centre of Trick's flavour.
If ever there had been an unpleasant edge to the urine on Tamar's tongue, the odor had always been beautiful, raw, but beautiful, and with her tongue in Trick's vagina the mix was intoxicating, the best of both. The scent of her pee, the taste of her pussy. Tamar couldn't get enough but she forced herself to pull her tongue up and make room for her fingers. She tickled the urethral hole that had kicked off tonight's delight, but she wasn't sure what that was doing for Trick.
For her part, Trick didn't know what it was doing to her. Her imagination was on fire: her fantasies were already coming true and they pushed her body to feel not merely the excitement of the moment, but the excitement of all the moments she had ever spent dreaming, hoping, begging in her coded way.
"Do you know what I hate about camping?" Was the question, and the only answer that mattered was, "That there were so many nights that never became this." Tamar's fingers moved side to side, brushing against the top of her vagina. She might have preferred a more direct attack on her g-spot, but tonight it was all too much already, and she was too sensitive for that. Tamar seemed to know. Tamar seemed to know everything.
She owed Tamar everything back, and she gave it to her, yelling, "Tam!" loud enough to fill the forest, squirting fluid enough to fill her girlfriend.
There were other orgasms, too. Trick couldn't be sure how many, but time had passed, her strength had passed, and Tamar had tucked them both back into the sleeping bag. She felt she really ought to go down on Tamar. It seemed like the fair thing to do, but she didn't have it in her, so she hugged her girlfriend as tight as she could with what strength she had left and bent her neck to kiss Tamar's hair. It mostly smelled of Trick's own cunt, but there was a scent of pee as well.
And that, thought Trick, was as good as things could be.
Trick slept that way, breath in her girlfriend's hair, with Tamar still vibrating with excitement, monstrously awake. She wanted to be back between Trick's legs, but she resisted, knowing Trick needed sleep. Her mouth was so hungry, though, that she could not stop it from sucking kisses onto the skin of Trick's collar bone. A long time passed before her heart finally matched the rhythms of her sleeping lover, until their breath synchronized, and Tamar herself let go of the excitement of the night to fall far down into sleep.
