She Moves Me Ch 03

Author Notes

This part stands fairly well on its own, but to enjoy it better, you may want to read the first two parts. *Wet Kisses* I love you B, J, N, and my mentor M.

*******

Sochie and Amber have left the club. The two are making love in a deserted alleyway. Sochie just ate Ambers pussy, and the action reconvenes.

She took my hand and pulled me up from the seat. I stood and faced her, hungry for her touch.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” she said.

Sochie pushed me back into the car door and pressed her body against mine. As the prickly hair of her pussy tickled the skin of my belly, my senses reacted to her forceful attack by lifting me to rarified air. She raised one of my legs, spreading it wide and repeatedly thrusting her hips. Moving her lips to mine, she kissed me with great need and energy.

My vulva felt every plunge, and her strength ratcheted up my sensitivity to intolerable levels. Each beat of her heart touched my pulse; each rough kiss of her lips fed my hunger; each warm slap of her hand raised my arousal. She pushed with the zeal of a woman possessed.

I needed to liberate the raw energy that waited in ready like a pouncing cat, but she pulled back after a few seconds, making my pussy seek satisfaction with greater need. "Please?" I begged, as my demand for pleasure enslaved me as a prisoner in chains to this woman.

"Wait," she whispered, "I want to enjoy every part of you first, turn around."

I turned around to comply, helpless in my need of her—this insatiable desire for her sex, this worshiping of Sochie at the altar of need.

She bent me over the hood of the car, pressing her hips into me and simulating fucking me. Powerless in her strong clutch, I let her pound like a hammer. She slapped my bottom a few times, leaving a tingle of joy with each slap.

"Your ass is red and lovely. I like my asses red." She said in my ear while bending down and nipping my neck with small bites. Spooning against my back, she kissed my neck, and then reached around and pinched my nipples. Sochie tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled with slight pressure while continuing to pound into my bottom, pushing my hips against the car. After a few minutes of thrusting, she rose from my back, and said, "Hold on a sec, don't move."

"Yes," I moaned softly. Lifting my head as the rain beat down on my body. I watched her go around to the far door of the car, open it and reach in her handbag. She pulled out a haltered dildo, inserted a small cock in her vagina, and strapped halter around her waist. My eyes followed her every move as she walked back to me, the dildo swinging back and forth and dripping with rainwater. It didn't look exactly like a cock, more feminine, thick and short, with a curve at the end designed to hit a G-Spot.

As she approached, she said, "I want you to enjoy."

"Yes," I mumbled, unable to offer anything more. I felt the dildo tease my vagina as she stood; pressing the tip against my entrance. The thought of her fucking me increased my pulse to a sharp thud in my ear.

Slowly, she eased the tip in a fraction of an inch and stopped. I couldn't wait and pushed my bottom back into her, forcing the shaft to enter me completely. The tip of the dildo pressed on my G-Spot as I backed my ass into her, causing me to scream in a language only we understood—the language of ribald pleasure, the speaking in tongues of ecstasy, and the sought after shouts of the orgasm.

She pulled out as I started to come and teased, "Not so fast sweetness. Let me enjoy this at least a few minutes. Are you ready now? Do you think you can hold off?"

I nodded, knowing I would orgasm as soon as she entered me.

"Let me do the work. Just relax, enjoy."

A small moan came from my mouth.

She inserted the dildo in my vagina again, easily entering the entire shaft. With her first quick thrust and retraction, I came due to so much need resting in wait. The orgasm peaked and faded within seconds, and she kept pounding into my bottom and slapping. "More," she insisted, "come again."

'More,' I gave her, as I pushed back into her hips with matching thrusts. The phallus rubbed against my G-Spot with each deep push of her hips, and after a few minutes of fucking, I felt another orgasm building. This orgasm took hold of me, and I shuddered as feelings of splendor filled my essence. The rush produced a strange mix of sensations—a mix filled with the need to urinate, combined with the exhilaration of vaginal teasing. Deep and satisfying, the orgasm lingered, rumbling through my pussy walls with sensitive contractions. The power stunned me; I didn't know sex felt so good. My legs tightened, and I sensed each muscle in my body contract in unison. All air vacated my lungs, forcing me to fight for oxygen. Finally, I simply shook while holding my breath and straining with my mouth wide open saying nothing. Then I collapsed to the hood of the car, but she kept fucking.

Unable to take any more torturous pleasure, I pushed against her hips. Thankfully, she relented, but only briefly. As she pulled out, the dildo rubbed one last time against my G-Spot, and I released another wet climax.

Not allowing any time for me to recover, Sochie went to her knees and inserted three fingers in my pussy, causing a ripping tide of fury to flood my mind. I felt her wet tongue tickling near my anus. Soon she used the juice from my apple, rain, and her saliva to soak my bud. My anus, cleaned by rainwater, felt her tongue lick deeply, and the prickly sensation created a sense of decadence greater than anything I'd ever felt. My husband had plucked my ass a time or two with his rigid cock, but this felt unique, different, and heady. The reason for the difference seemed obvious; I loved the woman eating my ass.

She removed her tongue, and a single finger teased my hole. I felt her gingerly enter. The feeling was joyful, completely unlike the anal sex when Jeff shoved his penis in my ass. He had no clue how to lubricate or stretch, while Sochie had no such problem. Patiently, she entered while slowly whispering for me to relax and not fight. Soon, her entire finger filled my ass; she pounded both my pussy and ass with her fingers, driving me insane.

She slowed and then sped up, tickling her fingers in spots that left me embroiled in that place between pleasure and pain. Nipping on my bottom repeatedly with her teeth, she laughed, and continued to render me helpless with her fingers.

I felt a small rip as she entered a second finger in my bud. Brooking no resistance on my part, she purposefully guided me with her smooth words. She did it slowly, encouraging me to relax while telling me the feeling was joyful. The way she talked made me believe her. She had this way of taking control―insistent, yet pleasant and kind.

I shuddered as Sochie added a third finger in my ass. I felt some ripping pain, but an enjoyable pain, a mixture of depravity and pleasure.

"Can you take more?" she asked.

"Don't know," I managed to whisper.

"Do you like it?" Her voice sounded concerned for my comfort.

I nodded. She pounded, pounded, and pounded.

"Better wait for my gloves and lube before I try any more. Maybe tonight. I love anal sex. Might need to try my dildo up your ass tonight."

"Mmmm, now," I responded, unable to think clearly as she continued to pound, pound, and pound.

"Sure? This one isn't made for an ass."

I nodded, and she rose to her feet, removing her fingers.

"It's going to hurt some at first, so relax your muscles and don't fight. Once your anus is relaxed, you'll feel a unique pressure like no other. Relax, my love. I'm entering now."

I felt the tip of the dildo on my rose, and surprisingly, I sensed little pain, rather immediate sensations of wealth. As she pushed the entire length of the shaft in my ass with only small resistance, I felt some stretching sensations, but nothing too painful.

"It's in. You okay?" she asked.

I whispered, "Fuck my ass hard." She did.

Sochie went at me with fervor, no doubt driven by the dual sensation of the small dildo pushing in her pussy and the thrill of ass fucking. Reaching my hand under my belly, I fingered my pussy as she fucked my ass. I loved the feeling of total submission combined with her complete control. She fucked like a crazed woman, and started screaming, "Come my fuck slut. Come for Mummy, come like a good little girl."

"Fuck me!" I yelled. "Fuck me?" I pleaded. "Fuck me," I whispered.

"Fuck!" she screamed between each thrust. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

"Fuck," I whispered only to myself, feeling so warm in my submission to her. I relaxed, and allowed all sensations to well through my body like a spring feeding a desert. Lightening struck a few hundred yards from us, and the crinkly atmosphere along with cooling rain made me feel wealthy. She fucked, fucked, and fucked. I loved, loved, and loved.

I looked up, and our parrot was on the hood of the car checking on our progress. The bird looked at me curiously and turned its head, seemingly asking, "Is this the way human's fuck?" I almost giggled as an answer teased my brain,

Not all humans bird. Only lezzies with a penchant for pain who take it up the ass.

The bird seemed satisfied, nodding its feathery head and flying away. Lightning flashed; thunder roared; Sochie fucked. In the name of all Greek Gods, Sochie fucked my ass with abandon, ripping a window to my soul!

Under the strain of a cataclysmic orgasm, I quaked, screaming and unable to breathe. "Sochie!" I yelled, and then tried to relax briefly between periods of complete rapture. Hyperventilating, I screamed again, and again, and again as I reached orgasm again, and again, and again. At that moment, I felt we were wed; our vows shouted in orgasms, our bouquets tossed with dripping sweat, and our wine the juice of our pussies, circling our cups in an endless vortex of love.

Sochie started coming, I could tell as her pushing became strained and erratic, her pacing pausing frequently as her body tightened in successive orgasms.

One riptide after another rushed through me as she climaxed, with barely enough time for me to catch my breath between each successive rush. A rich tapestry of orgasmic glee found me, and I shuddered repeatedly, straining as all my blood went to my pussy and head. I marveled at this moment of ecstasy, never such as this, never with a young woman like this. Repeatedly, I pushed my bottom against her cock as she pounded, and repeatedly the pounding produced orgasmic sensations that peaked then slowed and peaked again. Orgasm followed by orgasm until they were only one timeless peak that atomized my core with unending excess in an explosion of love and satisfaction.

Then all went dark.

*******

As stinging lightning flashed in my eyes, I felt a hand caressing my head and heard a soft concerned voice whispering, "Amber, wake up. I'm sorry. I didn't know that would happen."

I felt the hard ground against my back, as a mallet struck my head. "Wha...?" I tried to speak but felt queasy.

"You passed out; fell to the ground...hit your head. You have a nasty little bump. I need to get you to my house—so sorry Amber—didn't know you were so orgasmic."

Was it a bump on the head? Was it shock? Was it the sudden realization of what I had done and was doing? Or was it my insipid insecurity, sneaking up like a thief and stealing my chance for happiness? I couldn't do this. What would the world think? What about my job? I didn't know why, but I forgot everything and retreated back into the closeted lesbian—the love I felt for Sochie, the orgasmic freedom she so relished on me. I forgot it all―I fucked up.

Standing up with Sochie's aid, I measured my surroundings with fear―fear that found home in the recesses of my mind. I cringed at my behavior, embarrassed of my nudity and lascivious actions. This was stupid, risky, with twenty-one-year-old student no less. I deserved arrest and punishment.

Sochie noticed my reticence, and asked, "Are you all right?"

Pulling from her clasp, I searched for my ripped dress and quickly put it on to hide my nudity.

"Amber," she shouted, "what is it? I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Sochie," I whispered, "this is a mistake. It's wrong...must take you to your car."

"NO," she yelled. "No," she said calmly, ratcheting down her emotions. "What? You liked it."

The rain pelted our faces as we looked at each other. To my surprise, Sochie cried like a baby, her tears mixing with the rain. "No," she yelled as her spittle spewed from her lips.

"I can't," I said with urgency, turning my head to the side. We paused, but I felt her breathing increase and anger surge.

"Cunt!" she shouted. Then she slapped me so hard I almost fell down. The slap caused the pain in my head to increase in intensity. The pain helped hide my real hurt, the hurt of sacrificing myself due to the view of society. Good girls were not queer.

I turned my head and held my cheek. Tasting blood in my mouth, I spit. The saliva mixed with blood and dribbled down my chin, covering my breasts and staining my shredded dress. We both paused and breathed as I tasted the iron from my bloody wound.

I whispered, unable to look in her eyes, "It's not meant to be baby." She slapped me again. Needing one pain to replace another, I said, "Hit me. Just hit me." I jutted my chin out in her direction, tempting her to sate her anger with slaps to my face.

Looking at her face, I saw her veins beat in her forehead as she screamed, "Lies! You're all lies, you bitch!"

"Sochie," I tried to calm her, "you don't understand." But Sochie understood. I understood. I lived my life as a lie.

"Fuck you! I love you, you bitch, can't you see? Don't you know? You're mine," she said, and stomped her feet.

I saw the true Sochie, the child-orchid trying to bloom. Sochie owned vulnerability, insecurity and a deep seeded fear of rejection within her. I hated myself for perpetuating her insecurity. I wanted her to beat the shit out of me. The young woman shared my tumultuous way of being.

"I need you," she begged, clutching my arm tightly.

Forcefully, I removed her hand and said in a resigned voice, "You don't understand."

Her face reddened and anger surged. "So now you got it, huh? You got your little coed girly ass fuck and you're happy―another notch on your lipstick case. Go brag bitch, go brag, you're about the hundredth ass I've fucked so far this year. I can get anyone, why do I want a fat bitch like you? No one does this to me! No one! You're not even a good piece of ass....fucked better dogs than you. Go fuck your faggot husband."

"Stop it, Sochie!" I yelled. It ceased raining. I looked at her, and slowly said, "You don't mean it."

"Fuck you!" she shouted, turning and walking off down the alley. She stopped before reaching the street as if waiting for me to come to get her. I didn't. Instead, I went back in my car, sat down, put my head on the steering wheel and slapped my cheeks until my face felt numb, then, and only then, I cried. What the fuck did I do?

I loved her and let her go.

*******

The following Monday at work, she showed up in my office. Sochie looked horrid, wearing no makeup; her eyes were bloodshot, clothing disheveled, and general demeanor a mess. Coming around my desk to face me with her hands on her hips, she slurred, "Let's go to my house. Fuck everything. C'mon."

I looked at her and held back tears. Part of me wanted to go with her and find happiness, but the closeted lesbian took charge, and I said, "No Sochie, I have too much to lose."

"Fuck, lose?" she said with anger. "What exactly? This? This life of lies? You choose this over happiness? Over me? Who are you Amber? Who are you going to be? Bitch!" She pushed her face within inches of mine showing a mix of passion and hurt.

I said nothing, but smelled the stench of alcohol and vomit on her breath.

"Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave. Tell me you have no feelings for me...what happened on that dance floor...in that alley wasn't love? Tell me!"

The room grew silent for a few seconds except for the humming air conditioner.

"I can read your epitaph now. The epitaph about the fool you are.

"Today, Mrs. Amber Tyson died. She died unfulfilled, never embracing who she really was. Her passing affected no one, because she loved no one. She could not love. Celebrating her death was her husband, who, after fifty years of a sexless marriage could finally leave the toilet seat up. One former student cried, saying something about what should have been, and finishing her prayers by calling her a bitch. Perhaps Amber can rest in peace in heaven, because as God knows, she had none on earth."

She waited for me to respond. I did nothing but look away from her.

"You stupid bitch...you fool! You're saying that what happened between us was only a lie? Can you say that Amber? Look deep in you. Is THAT what you want? To forever be wondering and wanting what you may have been? What we could be? No one does this to me! Tell me right now that you don't have strong feelings for me...feelings that are more than this so called counselor-student relationship."

I still said nothing.

"I want you," she cried.

Silence.

"Badly, no one does this to me," she said and reached for my hand.

"No," I said, pulling my hand away.

"Follow me Amber," she said in a pleading voice. "One last chance. One. Last. Chance. Let me love and own you, please?"

Again, agonizing silence swept through the room.

"Amber!" she shouted, slurring the syllables of my name.

"No," I said calmly and firmly.

She stood upright and looked at me. A few tears rushed down her cheeks. Her chin twitched, and drool trickled from one corner of her mouth. Someone knocked at my door, and I heard Tammy's voice, "Is everything all right?"

"Give me a sec," I yelled back.

"Sure?"

"Yeah, just give us a minute." We were left in silence.

Quiet for what seemed a lifetime, she finally spoke in a quivering falsetto, "I can't make you happy. You have to do that for you. I'll hate you if you do this Amber…I'll hate you."

She turned around and started for the door. She stopped, and facing away from me, she whispered, "Bitch! No...no,

I will always love you."

She left, leaving the door to my office wide open.

*******

Three years after the Sochie affair, my life reached an unhappy balance—at least my type of balance. Sochie withdrew from school, and no one knew where she went. Everybody knew why. The gossip about the slutty coed and the lesbian dean ran rampant all over the campus, but nonetheless, the rumors couldn't be proven. My career took a hit, and I was moved to the seedier part of town to a satellite campus as a 'promotion'. I knew the administration wanted me out of sight, sound, and mind. Tammy, ever loyal, came with me.

I came out as a queer. Jeff and I divorced—a perfectly amiable divorce with neither of us caring any longer. He told me he already had a new fiancé, damn, it was one of my best friends. With utter indifference, I gave the man a hug, told him I didn't blame him, and off I went to my little one bedroom condominium.

I started an affair with a teacher at a local high school, a cute African-American femme named Teerza. The comfort of a woman's touch provided satisfaction, and Teerza sweetened my lonely life, making me quasi-happy. She wanted more, but I couldn't give her more. I loved Sochie, often beating myself up silly for letting her walk down that alley alone. Miserable most of the time, I floundered like a fish in a sea of loneliness.