It was nothing like she had imagined it. Simran was positively animalistic in bed, wanting to taste every inch of her body from head to toe and back again. Her voice seemed an octave lower, hoarse with lust as she writhed against Seema. Seema enjoyed it, none the less. Finally, they were making love and Simran was certainly pushing all the right buttons in the darkness of the bedroom, keeping Seema on the brink of orgasm for hours on end.
Seema couldn't wait to bring Simran to her own a boiling climax. She wondered how Simran would taste.
"Mmm," moaned Simran. "I love your pussy."
She pushed her tongue into Seema again and again until Seema could stand it no longer.
"Oh Sim, please, I want to come."
There was no answer from Simran, save a mischievous giggle as she removed her tongue just before Seema could come.
"Please, Sim. Make me come."
Simran cooed from between Seema's legs. She circled her tongue around, lightly flicking Seema's sensitive nub. Seema closed her eyes.
"Mmm, gosh I love you, Sim."
Simran's answer was muffled as she pressed her face into the sweet wetness. She circled and flicked her tongue with such skill that Seema soon felt the tell-tale ache of her approaching climax.
"Oh my gosh," she gasped as she pulled her knees up to her chest. Simran's tongue sent waves of extreme pleasure pulsing through Seema's body until she had to release. "I'm. Going. To. Cuummmmm!"
Seema moaned, gulping air down as her body spasmed through her climax, Simran's unrelenting tongue sending wave after wave of hot and wonderful release to Seema's overloaded pleasure centres.
Simran knew exactly when to cease her flicking, moving her tongue down to Seema's wet and yielding opening before her clitoris became over sensitive.
"Ahh, my gosh," Seema laughed breathlessly. "You are so amazing at that."
Simran slithered up until she was looking Seema in the eye. When their lips met in a loving kiss, Simran's lips and tongue bore the taste and scent of her own sex. Seema found it so very erotic.
As their fervent kissing continued, Seema felt Simran pushing her crotch against her leg. Seema ran her fingers through Simran's soft, wavy hair, gently pulling her in.
"I want to make you come, my love," whispered Seema as she broke away from what was the most loving, erotic kiss she had ever had.
"Ok," Simran said in a silky voice.
They swapped places. Simran lay on her back and gazed intently at Seema. Seema smiled devilishly and kissed Simran's nipples, taking one then the other in her mouth to gently suckle. Simran closed her eyes, writhing in slow motion on the soft cotton sheets.
Seema climbed in between her lover's legs and kissed a slow, deliberate line from Simran's sweet breasts, down and down, until the soft bristles of Simran's mound brushed her chin. Seema caught the faint scent of Simran's sex as she moved further down, using her tongue to trace a line from the top of Simran's triangle down to the warm fleshy mound just above her...
...Slowly, the moving images became diffuse, sepia tones creeping in from the outside. The depth of field distorted, nauseatingly pinching back from the centre. Then, there was a window, curtains drawn across it. The sun outside tried its best to break through the cream coloured material.
The soft sounds of Simran's pleasured moans, and mattress springs flexing as she writhed under Seema's loving touch seemed to gradually fade away. Little droplets of frustration and disappointment splashed cold across Seema's mind.
The dream dimmed, replaced by the muted morning sun seeping through the curtains of her spare bedroom.
Seema groggily opened her eyes. Her frustration at the interruption of her wonderful dream was tangible, but there was also a modicum of confusion. Just for a second. Why was she in her spare room?
Then, like a boot up sequence, memory flooded back, and she almost felt miserable. She hadn't had much sleep at all. She pushed herself up on an elbow, rubbed her eyes and yawned. Next to her, the bed was empty, a small indentation on the pillow where Simran had laid her head throughout the night, serene and beautiful in her sleep, her lustrous hair like an obsidian flow on the white pillow case. Seema sighed wistfully.
"Sim?" she called, her mind still foggy.
She looked towards the door. It was ajar, but no sounds came from beyond. She spotted her baggy t-shirt on the floor, thrown off the night before. She recalled the bath she had taken before slipping in to bed next to Simran, both of them naked. That memory would remain sharp in her mind. She managed a smile.
She blinked hard against the sleep in her eyes and ran her fingers through her tousled hair. For a moment she sat still, breathing steadily to clear her senses. Her dream had been a particularly graphic affair, which she didn't at all mind. She ran a finger over the softness between her legs and was not surprised at how wet she was. She cleared her throat.
She threw the duvet back and got up to retrieve her t-shirt. She slipped it on and opened the door. Her flat was silent.
"Sim?" she called again. Her voice echoed back from the far wall. She looked across to the bathroom door. It was wide open but silent within.
Padding first to the kitchen, and then to her bedroom, she realised that Simran had obviously left earlier. She was filled with a sense of emptiness, and a mild depression fell over her. She hugged her arms around her.
'Why had Simran left without saying goodbye?' she wondered. Seema worried; maybe she should have left her t-shirt on before getting in to bed with Simran the night before. Had Simran woken up, seen Seema sleeping naked next to her, and bolted in disgust?
"But she wanted me to sleep next to her," Seema whispered to herself.
She padded back in to the spare room and stepped on to the futon. She knelt down, crossed her legs and pulled the duvet up and around her shoulders. It was still warm and cosy and she could still smell Simran's faint scent on the duvet cover.
Seema flicked a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 10.30 am. She had overslept.
"What the heck, it's Saturday," she whispered glumly to herself.
She was about to snuggle back up in the duvet, when she caught sight of a folded piece of paper next to the alarm clock.
She picked it up. Written on the front was her name. The writing was beautiful. It was Simran's writing. She opened the folded sheet, not knowing what to expect. In her downbeat mood she thought Simran would say that last night was 'wrong', and maybe they had better not spend so much time together. Seema sighed morosely and unfolded the note.
The message inside read;
Hey Seem!
Just gone back to my place to get a few things.
Couldn't bring myself to wake you-you seemed
to be having a nice dream! Will be back in a bit
with some things for breakfast. Took your keys
for flat. Will let myself back in! Will try not be
