"What did I say>"
"You said, 'You like mystery, you like different, you like fear.'"
Clemency took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Using her hands on my hips, she pulled me to her. The kiss was full on my lips, her tongue tip barely touching but it felt alive. My face between both of her hands, she leaned away and looked into my eyes. "Do you trust me?"
"Why should I?"
"The question was do you trust me not should you."
Well, the truthful answer was, inexplicably, yes, I did. I have no idea why. So I told her, a little reluctantly, that I did.
Her voice was quiet, mellow when she spoke, "Instinct is a powerful thing, more in some than others. You have it." Before I could say anything, she kissed me again and this time her tongue entered me, and, Jesus, it was that tongue again, delving, deep. I wanted it, I needed it inside me. I felt her hand run down my back and, as it did, it took the zip of my dress with it. Then I could feel her hand on my skin. It was cool, dry and I was neither of those things. Then, she turned, holding my hand and led me up the stairs, her body visible through the gauzy dress and into a dark room, a slight glimmer of light through the gap of curtains. Kissing me again, she eased my dress off me and let it fall to the floor before I stepped out of it. She sat on a bed I could only see as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. She spread her knees and the dress did that opening again and the vision of my dream was made flesh.
Her voice now was, impossibly, quieter than before, almost as if I were hearing it inside my head. "Is this what you saw?" I could only nod, dumbly. And then, oh God, then her eyes turned blue. That blue. You might reasonably expect me to have screamed, or fled, but I did neither. I was rooted to the spot. "Mystery entices you." I nodded. "Different fascinates you." I nodded again. "Fear, what does fear do? It makes you wet, doesn't it? Show me."
I had no self-control. I knew what I was doing but I couldn't have stopped myself. I touched the crotch of my silk knickers and they were wet, very wet and my finger became wet too. I held it out to her. She took my hand in both of hers and touched the wet finger, gently guided it to her lips and she tasted me. Her hands moved to my shoulders and, gently, she pushed me down to my knees and, lightly gripping my hair, pulled me towards her. Slowly, I bent forward between her knees, between her thighs, until I was no more than an inch away from her cunt. I could feel her warmth, smell her. Her fingers tightened a little in my hair, not painful, but authoritative and the voice came again from somewhere deep inside me.
"Was it my tongue?" I nodded, knowing that she knew exactly what had happened in my dream. "It was, wasn't it? It went into you, your mouth, your cunt. Do it to me."
Of course, I couldn't. My tongue wasn't big enough, long enough but she pulled me to her, fast against her and, oh sweet heaven, my tongue did. It did just as hers had done and entered her. Her cunt opened for me, sucked me, pulled me in and it felt like my tongue was being uprooted and travelling, as hers had, deep inside her. It grew as hers had. It curled and moved. I could feel it, swallowed by her, squeezed, drawn deeper and deeper until, just as I had, she screamed and flooded and her fluids ran, copious over me.
"You're safe now."
I woke to find myself in her bed, in her arms. My face felt just as my thighs had felt after that, the dream, the drying juices. She stroked my hair as she held me to her naked breast. I felt safe. I felt an amazing calm, peace, as if I'd come home from a dangerous journey. Her fingertips traced my lips, my eyes and she kissed my forehead.
I looked up into her black eyes and started but she held me. "You're safe now. Stay still."
Clemency held me for an age. Then, slowly, she turned me onto my back and kissed my mouth, my chin, down over my breasts, my belly until she was at my cunt and her tongue lapped at me, caressed me. She lifted my knees and her tongue touched my arse, circled and, for a moment, I wondered if her tongue would do there what it had done to my cunt. But this tongue was real, and it slithered back up to my cunt, onward to my clit and it circled and teased it. What did enter my arse was a wet, slippery finger and I had never wanted anything so much before. She was, to my mind, claiming my body, showing me I could deny her nothing. I arched my back and she slipped a finger into my cunt. Those two fingers, long, slender, deft, worked me to a frenzy as her tongue drove me wild. Although I was screaming, I could, ridiculously, hear her voice inside me. 'Mystery, different, fear.' My orgasm was frantic, explosive. It was unbearable.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting up in her bed. She had brought me that nightcap she had offered me earlier, the large brandy she had poured what seemed like weeks ago, downstairs. I needed it. I was trembling as if I had hypothermia, but I've never felt warmer. The trembling wasn't fear, or was it? If it was, then I was loving it, revelling in it.
She'd changed into a black nightdress. It was flimsy and fell off one shoulder so her breast was exposed and looked as if it were cradled by the fabric. I was naked, my knickers and stockings gone although I had no recollection of her undressing me.
"Are you going to tell me what the fuck is happening to me?"
"I'd say you've just had the best sex of your life."
There was no denying that. The strange thing was that I felt I could do it all night, I was possessed with energy, a stark, sexual, erotic energy that made every cell of my body alive, desperate for more of her. At the same time, I was exhausted, shattered.
"Your eyes." I'd suddenly remembered how they had changed colour. "It wasn't contacts, was it?"
"It's perception, Maggie. Your mind changes and you see things differently and, well, you like different, don't you? Look at me." I looked at her, her eyes black again, her hair seemed to shimmer. Suddenly, she took one of my fingers between hers. She held my gaze and her thumb began to caress the palm of my hand. "Do you want me, inside you, deep inside you?" Her lips weren't moving. "How deep can I get inside you, Maggie? How deep will you let me in?"
My mind should have been screaming, "Stop, stop, stop!" but all it could say was that, yes, I wanted her deep inside me, as deep as she could be.
She was smiling a gentle, comforting smile. And then, oh fuck, I swear her tongue tip showed again at her lips and I felt it enter my mouth again, just as it had in that dream. It stayed just at my lips, her eyes, now almost imperceptibly changing to blue again. Her tongue, it was HER tongue, moved, circled, opening my mouth as it swelled and it went agonisingly slowly deeper and deeper, just as it had before. Then the madness got worse because as her tongue filled my mouth, so I felt it curling between my thighs. Her eyes, bright blue, brighter than ever before and it was in me, not deep, nowhere as deep as the tongue in my mouth but it was there, working its way in as it swelled and hardened.
Just as I thought I could take no more, I felt another at my arse. Wet, warm, hard, it massaged my hole and a voice deep in my head said, "Relax, let me in, this is what you want, what you need. Let me in. It's up to you, you're safe, let me in." The pressure increased and penetrated me, pushing, filling me. All three tongues worked, finding a rhythm, fucking me, slowly at first in a unison of penetration, then the pace increased. I know I was moaning, begging, and I could hear the words but how? How could I speak?
If the previous orgasms had been breathtaking, this, these maybe, were too much. I felt as if I were levitating and, by then, it wouldn't have totally surprised me if I had. I heard someone scream using my voice, heard it explode from my mouth but all I could see was her eyes; brighter than ever, incandescent.
Oblivion.