For those who pay attention to such things: When Sarah is alone the story is in the past tense. When Claire and Sarah are together (or speaking to one another on the phone) the story is in present tense.
Thanks to HaltWhoGoesThere for copy editing - repeatedly.
Impact of Severences
We are intertwined; arms and legs wrapping each other. I squeeze Claire tight, clinging to her like a castaway.
There's a breeze coming from the open window, distant sounds of trucks and cars, more immediately birds sing and chirp, a dog barks. The city is quiet. It's still very early. I open my eyes, Claire's hazel eyes are bright and shining. Our noses are touching.
"Good morning Sarah," she coos, stretching her spine, cheeks flush, arms flexing, her fingers tighten in my hair. Her skin feels smooth and cool as it moves against mine, soft and giving, but beneath her flesh feels firm and wonderfully kinetic. Muscles in her torso flex powerfully, fingertips push at me, nails scratch, arms and legs push and bend, her long hair tickles as she slithers down the bed. Wet lips find my nipple, a hand cups my breast, squeezing.
"Good morning Claire," I hush, rubbing my face against the pillow; the smell of her hair. My hands join hers, offering my breasts to her, encouraging her to squeeze harder. I want her to bruise me.
I feel a burst of heat at my core as her left arm circles my waist. Claire embracing me this way, nursing me, it's something out of a dream I'd forced myself to forget, a fantasy too long denied. I move my hands, holding her head and shoulder, clutching her to me. My breasts ache, seem to swell. Her roaming hand is grabbing my ass, my legs spread wide, wrapping around her waist. I squirm as her grip slides under my ass, between my legs and fingers push into me.
"You're so wet," she husks, a smile in her voice. "You
can
again," she insists.
And she's right. I feel insatiable. Last night I'd ridden Claire's face, cumming so hard I splashed her and thought I might faint. I'd been gasping as I'd climbed off her, babbling and laughing, I'd whispered as we kissed; telling her how beautiful she was, how happy she made me.
"The show is over," she had said, reaching to turn off the lights, making us invisible to her neighbor Helen, who had watched us through the open window. Her hands had moved over me in the dark, gently exploring, her mouth very near my ear, whispering in French. At first I'd tried to understand what she was telling me. She seemed to be telling a story punctuated over and over by "ma coeur" and "ma amour". The sound of her voice would have been enough, but her touch, her care, her perfect sympathy, had me stretching and arching; moaning loudly into the darkness. The whole time she had stared into my eyes, watched my expressions. Her eyes had glittered in the dark with fascination and delight at my rising frenzy. She had fingered me to another explosive orgasm, soothing me as I jerked and twisted, putting me to sleep in a puddle of my own making with gentle caresses and airy sounds of half understood affections.
Desire is something I've struggled with, fought off and fought for - but with Claire, something in me seems to have been cracked open. This all comes so effortlessly with her and is so welcome. My body doesn't just follow her lead, it leads me to her.
"This is what I've always wanted," I confess. My voice is high and quiet, hardly a sound at all. "
You
are what I've always wanted Claire," I whine.
Gasping, my hips thrust and buck as the trail of wet kisses down my belly leads her mouth to my sex. Her open mouth covers me, tongue sliding over smooth skin, parting me easily, honing in on my clit, which pulses - feels bigger than me. The cheeks of my ass flex and tighten until they threaten to cramp. My ass is pushing away from the mattress, forcing my cunt upwards.
"Mmmnnn..."
Pursed lips smiling, one hand still holding my breast, fingers pinching my swollen nipple, her tongue swirls and she sucks.
I should stop her, take her place, but my ass lifts off the bed entirely as her hand joins her mouth between my legs. My hands push her down, pull her to me. She makes a loud satisfied sound deep in her throat as her tongue makes way for fingers pushing into me. Lips and tongue focus on my clitoris, which feels enormous, stony, and slick. Fingers are stretching me, she's pushing so deep.
"Claire, yessss, oh God Claire pleassse," I hiss and moan. She is sucking hard. Pushing her tongue with all its force.
I think of the way she looks at my mouth, talks about how much she loves it. But for me, it's Claire's eyes - smiling up at me as she licks my pussy now - but also when she looks down on me with such intense desire when I eat her out.
'Mutually, reciprocally...'
How have I waited so long for this? For her. Why couldn't I have found Claire years ago? Why couldn't
I
have been
this
woman all along?
I am trying to hold her gaze, to lock the image of her expression in my memory forever, but I am writhing beneath her. Finally I can't any longer. My body lifts off the mattress arching off the bed like a bridge. My neck rolls my skull until the top of my head, my elbows and hands, my feet, are all that support me; ass clenching, back arching.
"Christ!" I swear blindly. "Oh Jesus FUCKING Christ Claire!"
Her fingers grip the cheeks of my ass, holding me up, holding me to her mouth, she's eating me like fruit. Her mouth is greedy, exploring. Her tongue and lips are pushing wet. And yes, her mouth. God her mouth, her mouth. She is moving through me. The feel of her tongue, the movements of her jaw, can touch be beautiful? I can't...
"OH CLAIRE!"
I spasm and flail. She lets my ass drop, but her mouth follows me down. Lips soft and tongue playful, she gently sucks while I shiver. Again I've soaked her sheets and mattress. I'm in a warm puddle of her making. It feels heavenly under my still squirming ass. Claire slows and finally stops as I calm down.
"I like it when you get loud!" she announces happily as she gives me one last wet kiss and starts to pull away.
"Nooo..." I whine, clutching her to me. "Not yet."
Claire laughs and gives my hips a little squeeze.
"I have to piss like a draft horse."
"You mean race horse," I mumble, letting her go, watching her naked backside as she climbs out of bed and stretches. She leaves the door open and I listen to her pee. It's like she's opened a spigot. I remember how embarrassed I'd been peeing in front of Claire that first time. It had been so horribly loud and there was nothing I could do to silence it. She had acted as if nothing was happening.
This is louder. I try to stifle a gasp.