Special Deliveries Ch 02 1

Welcome, dear gals and pals, to your next helping of Smokey goodness, sunshine, warmth and love. (

Technical note:

This story, Saga #94, follows #92 ("Numbers"). I wrote #93 in between (my next odd-numbered and thus BDSM-flavored story—which is not "Seductress," it's a different one), but have elected not to publish it. So on we go, and now that

that

is out of the way...)

Sequel time!!

March 2016 gave birth

to Saga #61,

"Special Deliveries."

You, faithful friends, are about to read

part 1

of "Special Deliveries

II

." It has turned out especially lengthy, and so I'm splitting it in two parts. Like each two-parter I write, I'll be submitting both at the same time, so part two should hopefully come shortly after. Cheers, happy reading.

*****

Kärlek och äktenskap (Love And Marriage)

Thursday, March 24th, 2016, 6:19 a.m.

Spring had officially arrived. Here in Minnesota, it had quite the time tidying up winter's disarray, but always persevered. Vernal clouds were easier for the sun to nudge out of the way. Budding leaflets materialized on branches. Birds sang cheerier and livelier. Pleasant gales caressed houses, cars and citizens. Plough-pushed mounds of snow remained the harsh winter's only evidence. And a fresh dose of daylight spilled up from the horizon, gently awakening the city of Juniper like so many dawns before.

1615 Branderville Street was a two-story Cape Cod-style home which had just recently doubled its number of inhabitants. It belonged to 28-year-old Riley Marla Hutchins, and now as well to 25-year-old Elsa Helena Jansson, both of whom had given and received the title of Mrs. Being the mail-order bride, Elsa didn't know whether to change, hyphenate or keep her name. Riley, who just wanted both to be happy, minded neither way. But these concerns and no others occupied their thoughts for the moment, as they lay in bed, divinely, contently nude, riding out their peaceful sleep. Elsa lay on her back, disheveled but beautiful blonde hair drizzling all about the pillows, soft pink nipples peeking out from the edge of the comforter. Riley lay on her side snuggling Elsa.

It was exactly one week ago, on Thursday the 17th, that Riley'd adopted Elsa and brought her home—"adopt" being the word they preferred. Something about the practice of obtaining a mail-order bride struck Riley a bit prehistoric, and went against the principles she was brought up with. And yet...this had been the

happiest

week of her life, bar none. The fact that Elsa was the foxiest, sexiest, most enchanting creature she'd ever seen just

may

have had something to do with it.

Elsa felt similarly towards Riley since having seen her picture. From minute one, somehow, she

knew

they were pure soulmates. As she kept to herself until Tuesday and then confessed to Riley, Elsa believed in soulmates, and also believed each person had one they were destined to meet. Not necessarily only one on the planet, but one they'd encounter. And their union was a charmed example of how two soulmates could come together even after living across the planet. (Riley thought, but did not voice the double entendre phrase "come together," little as Elsa would've minded. The girl, Riley'd find, was

highly

sexually active, and adventurous to boot.)

Riley had taken the entire week off work to spend and get to know her new betrothed. Elsa was from a city in southwestern Sweden called Gothenburg. (She pronounced it for her in her native tongue. "Göteborg." It was spelled similarly but sounded

nothing

the same to Riley's Anglophone ear.) She loved to be entertained. She'd hardly ever run across a book, movie, TV show or song she didn't like. She was an only child, and had been orphaned at 19. It wasn't the worst age, as she could now work. So she fumbled through a series of jobs before deciding to enlist in the marriage agencies. Maybe it wasn't very ambitious of her, she told Riley, but the truth was, something about her had always wanted to be..."oh, vhat's 'de vord..." domestic, she said. A bit of a homebody at heart. Not that she didn't like going out to do things and have fun. But especially since losing her parents, she'd wanted someone to take care of her.

She also shared a great deal with Riley about her beloved country's culture and traditions. Riley heard it all and appreciated each thing Elsa wanted to tell her, but at times had trouble concentrating. She frequently gazed into Elsa's incredible eyes and face and let her mind wander away with the thought,

...I am the luckiest damn chick on the...well, top of the world.

To think it had taken her this excruciatingly

long

to find love, slogging through so many dates and encounters that aspired to nowhere, all the anguish she put herself through to get her... Elsa was just such a breath of fresh air,

and

a huge relief.

Each day that first week, they shared autobiography snippets, then tried out different ways of making love. Sometimes they talked to each other about random topics

while

making love, which surprisingly did not deter from the passion. Things were still just too new and exciting. Riley wanted to bop, boff, boink, make love to, have sex with and fuck the living daylights out of Elsa as much as she could before the excitement started wearing off. And did Elsa certainly give her her mileage. She gave as good as she got. As Riley upped the ante day by day, Elsa rejoined in kind. The girl was amazing. She was like a machine. She could take everything Riley threw at her and then some. And came up with some imaginative sexual innovations on her own. Riley couldn't say if it was a cultural or geographical thing, but had to ask herself at least once why she'd never tried to meet a Nordic chick before.

Getting to know one another was almost just as pleasurable in its way. The new wives were of one mind, in that—maybe the bewitching beauty of each helped, but also—each new trait was more exciting than the last. Inevitably, differences cropped up among their similarities. Elsa was a social butterfly and had lots of friends growing up, where Riley was a bit of a loner and wallflower. By a somewhat parallel token, Riley tended to get on better with her parents and folks of their generation, and Elsa gelled more with her age peers. Distinctions of several sizes were unearthed. On the lighter side, Riley's favorite dessert was ice cream and Elsa preferred cookies. So they compromised the indulgent night of Wednesday the 23rd, with bowls of strawberry swirl and Oreos crushed on top.

Another difference surfaced as the cookies and cream were enjoyed. Riley was a bit more a dog person, Elsa a great deal more a cat person. As neither minded a little more cuddly company and as a pet meant more to Elsa, they agreed to make adoption two a young affectionate feline. A few back-to-back cat shelter visits later, they brought home a particularly friendly Abyssinian shorthair boy kitten. Though Riley could see herself grow attached to him, she'd really got him for Elsa. And so as Elsa's cat, Riley saddled her with the seemingly simple task of naming him. No problems, said Elsa.

And so Elsa thought. And she thought. And thought. Then she thought. After that, she thought. Following this, she thought. And

then

... she thought some more. At last, she decided. It came to her one evening over the supper table.

Gasp.

"Tiger heter han!"

Riley arched an amused eyebrow with a mouthful of grub.

"I'm...khawwy?"

"

'Dat

's his name!" exclaimed the beaming Elsa. "'De cat! Tiger!"

Riley swallowed. "'

Tee

-ger'?" she repeated.

"Of course!" Elsa spelled it for her.

"

Oh

," Riley nodded. "So... taiy-ger. Like Shere Khan."

"Right, yes, but på svenska! In Svedish it's 'Tee-gehr.'"

"Oh, I see. Okay, great. Tee-ger it is."

"You call him Taiy-ger if it's easier."

Kept by the Hutchins and Jansson only a few days, simple-minded and months-old Tiger remained in explorer mode. He wandered, poking his head about, sniffing things and finding means to high places. He leapt to the dining table, briefly regarded his Mommies, turned to hop onto the armchair, slunk to the end, looked up, waggled his rump, and

sprang

to the curtain rod. He narrowly missed, grappling and scrabbling like a small monkey to get up. Resting atop his perch, he turned to them and gave a proud, squeaky mew. Riley smiled, feeling her heart warmed by their new feline son's presence. Maybe she was more of a cat person than she thought.

The ice cream was polished off, the bowls rinsed and in the dishwasher. Now after plenty of time spent playing with Tiger, it was time to leave him to his own devices. Literally. So the brides activated a toy that spun a mouse in a circle under a blanket. With a short-term memory and such simplistic cat-fancies, it could keep Tiger entertained for hours. And as much fun as it could be watching him frolic and romp, the girls were due to enjoy their

own

play time.

*****

Ogrundad två-timmars sex-flashback (Two-Hour Gratuitous... Well, You Know)

Wednesday, March 23rd, 2016, 9:05 p.m.

Riley adored Elsa and her styles of lovemaking from the start. She was tender and coquettish, yet passionate and roguishly playful. They took turns tugging one another to the bedroom between preliminary pecks. Elsa was tonight latter to get inside, and quietly shut the door. She sauntered towards a stationary Riley and began gingerly disrobing her. Riley replied in kind. With each additional patch of flesh unveiled, the eager hearts beat and juices raced just a bit faster. Riley couldn't get over it. As unlucky as she'd been in the past, as terribly as love treated her, she'd managed to turn it completely around and become

just

as fortunate. She made herself see that had things worked out with her ex Kellie or anyone else, just

look

at what she would've missed out on.

What Riley failed to anticipate was that Elsa felt the exact same way. Just a hair short of a week ago, in that agency office, she'd learned that Elsa's reaction to seeing her photo was akin to Riley's own. And yet, Riley had so much trouble equaling them in her mind. Cliché though it may've been, words literally couldn't describe her astonishment at Elsa's pulchritude. She just couldn't see Elsa's awe at

her

beauty measuring up. But supposed this could be seen as a good thing. Because... if... well, that was to say...

Elsa's tongue was in her mouth. Riley realized she couldn't think straight. Being that she was gay, this made sense... But also, she noticed in the week they'd been together thus far, Elsa had a way of doing this to her. It was one of the things Riley so genuinely cherished about her. She was 25—younger than Riley—and so remarkably unjaundiced by life. There seemed not to be a single snide or caustic bone in her body. The girl wasn't particularly naïve (well... maybe a touch), but just so pure, innocent, untainted...

wholesome

. It made her even more beautiful than she was on the surface. She seemed acquainted with life's harsh realities—some of them, anyhow—and seemed also able to take them with the proverbial grain of salt. In turn, she made Riley inclined to question how she looked at things. But here this evening, once more in their bedroom, sex was not one of them.

The kisses flowed like wine, postponing their arrival at the bed as if they moved in slo-mo.

God, she's so soft and precious

, thought both. After what was basically a week-long stay-cation "homey-moon," they'd gotten adept at tumbling into bed in tandem. A more or less prerequisite giggle squeaked out as they plopped in and began loving each other up. As they ceased moving for the moment, Elsa ended up atop Riley. She nestled into her for a first bedded liplock, spilling flaxen hair all about Riley's auburn mane, blending a brilliant, delicious capillary mixture. Riley hugged firm, pressing and smushing Elsa down tight on herself, claiming one of Elsa's fabulously leggy legs with both her own. A kiss-muffled groan was coaxed from each as they slowly, sumptuously humped. Elsa broke the kiss first out of need for breath and gasped. They shared a smile, blinking butterfly kisses and nuzzling nose tips.

"

God, I love you so fuckin' much, Mrs. Jansson, or Mrs. Hutchins, or Mrs. Jansson-hyphen-Hutchins, or whatever you decide you wanna call yourself

," Riley told her, snickering at the impromptu run-on sentence.

Elsa chortled back. "

Och jag älskar dig så väldigt mycket, min vackra söta framgångsrika fru, även om jag inte ännu vet om jag vill ta ditt namn eller behålla mitt eget eller båda.

"

Smooch.

Even though she only picked up the first four words—which confirmed that Elsa loved her back—Riley became passionately hot.

"

Y'know... when you speak Swedish to me in that smokin' hot voice, I just wanna go crazy on you and make

you

go crazy enough to tear the sheets to shreds. Eh, not that I want you to do that, but not that I'd be that upset if you did either.

"

Elsa let her head drop beside Riley's and laughed.

"

Fortsätter du behandla mig som drottning, så kommer jag aldrig sluta. Och din röst är himla sexig med.

"

Riley didn't need to know just now what those things meant. A few obligatory minutes of focus in and around the making out, and each had a hot naked wife in her bed. Elsa resigned herself to dropping in the mattress beside Riley, with a

plff!

The kissing returned with a vengeance, limbs and extremities roving to intertwine as before. Both refused to let go for even a second, and proceeded furthermore to dig her nails in the other's back and leave searing streaks. Eyes shut, each imagined the tableau of themselves with an artful added effect. Riley pictured a warm, glowing crimson aura surrounding them, growing more fiery and intense as did they. Elsa pictured them generating endless cartoon hearts which floated into the air and popped like bubbles.

Riley growled more erotically-fueled obscenities, Elsa responding with gasping whimpers. Their feet tangled in the blanket, fighting and kicking it away. Just as each of six days they'd been together, their arousal flared at similar rates till they grabbed one another's paws and hooked them onto their girl-goodies. Riley rerouted Elsa's left hand to her chest and right to her pussy, squeezing the latter with her thighs. Elsa, who enjoyed just a bit more foreplay for herself, brought both Riley's hands to her tits, urging her to tease them. Reactions accelerated congruently. Having worked each other far enough, this juncture brought a joint decision to make.

Kiss.

"

So...

"

Kiss.

"

Um...

"

Kiss.

"

Who, uh...

"

Kiss.

"

...First...

"

Kiss.

"

...This time?

" proposed Riley. "

...Flip a coin?

"

Elsa tittered.

"

Can, erm...

"

Kiss.

"

Can-can ve do me first?

"

Kiss.

"

I do just as vell to you.

"

"

I know you will

," Riley purred, flashing a sultry smile. "

A'right, girl...on your back.

"

So Elsa shimmied down and rotated to face the ceiling. Elsa had a tummy fetish, in that she went aroused when someone licked, kissed, nibbled, tickled or showed it any other affections. E

special

ly the licking. She had no idea why; this was simply her thing. A thing Riley was more than happy to do for her. So once Elsa settled in and got comfy, Riley put herself in her prescribed position. She laid on her own belly, straddling Elsa's right leg. She could orally tend to her tummy, let Elsa grope herself about the breasts, and pleasure her below with the right hand.

And so it began, soft and slow, as per the usual. Elsa lay back, purring like Tiger. She inhaled deep and moaned low, as budding pleasure covered her like a fresh coat of paint. She felt Riley's tongue slick her abs, and tingles abound. Her wife's paw on her cunt proved a lovely complement. She felt Riley hump her leg and her own thigh wet from Riley's pussy. Here was the confirmation and reminder that giving

and

getting made Riley so happy, and that just elated Elsa. She sent a signal to Little Elsa to return the favor.

Knowing she was making Elsa happy made Riley ecstatic in turn, and then Elsa, ad infinitum, until climaxes began to occur. Following a semi-awkward little visit to the clinic, they pushed this chain reaction through limit after limit. Riley found herself so thrilled to have stumbled upon Sappho's Haven, that lesbian dating site with the mail-order adverts. And too thrilled her one and only date through the site had not worked out. It was with a beautiful and foxy but frankly bland, personality-challenged brunette named Janet. Riley didn't want to so much as think back on that disaster of a date, but was ultimately grateful it happened. It was this final chapter of courtship shambles that sent Riley over the edge and made her resort to the mail-order agency. At the time, it seemed that's all it was: a resort—and to wit, the last one. And yet...she found now, it had been absolutely the right move—and thank goodness the exact right time. Elsa might not have been available otherwise.

All these thoughts and more Rolodex'd through her mind as she loved up Elsa's quivering belly and fondled her womanhood. Riley'd never been one to go in for tiresome clichés. That's all she found them: tiresome. But she was now compelled to agree with the one that went "everything happens for a reason (and ultimately for the best)." She'd also never exactly believed in fate or soulmates, but again... it seemed surreal she now had this breathtaking, heavenly girl in her bed, having met her barely a week ago. And were Elsa to claim she

was

from heaven, Riley thought, the girl could've fooled her. All she was missing were the wings, halo and harp. But Scandinavia was... close enough, she joked, way up near the North Pole.

Seriously, though, no kidding

, she told herself. Had

things worked out with Janet or Kellie or really anyone else for that matter... we would've been cheated. Look at her. She's perfect.

Literally... flawlessly...

perfect

.

Riley was a bit philosophical, and this thought made her realize that now she was getting into the realms of what could and could not be considered "perfect." But

this

thought in turn made her decide to stop analyzing things and get back to fucking Elsa. And

enjoying

it. Downstairs in Riley's modest library of books, amongst others, was one comprised of lesbian sex positions, and how to assume and get the most from them. And photos of nude models demonstrating each. It had up till now served as a source of fun reading and an occasional nice frig. Now Riley could hardly wait to break it out and try some of these with her

very

significant other. And thus far, Elsa'd been all too willing to roll with her punches. She

loved

sex. She was from Sweden, the buckle on the Nordic belt, she had a whole new language and culture for Riley to learn about... and she made love like a siren.

Both pussies dampened their owners' thighs and companions' as well. Wanting to have a little more fun, Riley dribbled some saliva onto Elsa's belly and zealously waggled her tongue all over. This gave Elsa the desired nice little jolt. She jumped in place, flailing her limbs just a bit. "

WOOOO

-HOO!" she squealed. "Kittlarmenjagälskardet!!"